Page 39 of Glass Half Full
What do I do? What do I do? WhatdoIdo?
I duck my head between my knees and try to pull a few deep breaths in. They’re shaky and shallow instead. I’ll be panting soon, my chest heaving as tight bands constrict around my lungs. I know what this is going to look like. I’m just grateful no one’s here to see it.
“Renee? What’s wrong?”
My name sounds like it’s coming from far away. I feel dizzy when I lift my head, and the world only spins even faster when I recognize the man standing in the door to the kitchen. My vision starts going black around the edges, and I can’t even answer him before I have to drop my head back between my knees.
“Hey. Hey. I’m gonna help you, Renee. It’s going to be okay.”
Gravel crunches under his shoes as he squats in front of me. I can’t actually see him, but I feel him there. He’s close but not too close, and if I could, I’d thank him for giving me space. People always try to hug me when I get like this, and it just makes things worse.
“Can you tell me what you need? Are you able to answer that?”
I raise my eyes enough to stare at the tips of his shoes before shaking my head. I can barely get air down my throat; there’s no room for words.
“Okay, here’s what I need you to do. I need you to sit here and count to fifteen seconds for me. I’ll be back before you’re done.”
You’re leaving?
My head shoots all the way up in alarm, and I’m sure my eyes must flare wide as I gawk at him.
You can’t leave.
I’m still hyperventilating so hard I don’t have a hope of speaking, but he reads the worry in my face all the same.
“Fifteen seconds, Renee, and I’ll be right back. I promise. Just count. Breathe and count for me.”
For me.
Somehow, despite everything about this situation that should make it impossible, hearing those words still sends a tremor up my spine. I want him to say them again. I want him to ask me to do all kinds of things for him.
Only the rest of my brain is still hijacking my body and turning it into a prime time freak show.
You’re crazy. You’re insane. You can’t even be around normal people, never mind act like them.
“Renee, I mean it. Breathe and count. I need you to do that for me.”
He gives me a hard look, one that’s impossible to ignore or glance away from, and some of the panic in me stills. I can do this. I can do this for him.
He nods like he’s heard me and rises to his feet before heading back into the kitchen.
One. Breathe. Two. Breathe.
The numbers are coming out too fast. I rein them in, slow them as much as I can. I’m only at twelve when the door opens again. Dylan crouches down and holds out an upturned palm.
“Okay, here we go. I’m going to need you to take two of these.”
There are four little white objects in his hand, and for a moment, I have no idea what I’m looking at.
“Take two marshmallows, Renee.”
Marshmallows. He’s holding four mini marshmallows, the kind you put in hot chocolate.
“What you’re gonna do,” he continues explaining when I don’t show any signs of moving, “is this.”
Then he takes two of the marshmallows and shoves them up each side of his nose.
A bark of surprised laughter interrupts my wheezing, and Dylan’s face splits into a grin before turning serious again. He points at the remaining marshmallows in his hand.
