Page 9 of Fastball

He wraps his arm around me as I inhale his scent, allowing it to calm my nerves.

“I know, sweetheart,” he mutters against my temple, kissing my head gently. We sit in silence for a while before Josh speaks. “I need to get going.”

“Mel is coming over in an hour to help me get there… that okay?”

His eyes soften as his lips touch mine ever so lightly. “More than okay, I’m happy she’s coming here to help you when I can’t.” I want to roll my eyes because it seems like he thinks I can’t do this without help, but I don’t. Because what he’s actually doing is loving me enough to know what I need, even when I don’t.

“What time should I be there?”

Instead of answering right away, his fingers find a loose strand of my hair and plays with it for a second. My eyes close of their own volition, and I savor the feel of him next to me.

“The game starts at seven, so I’ll have a security guard at the door by two, just in case you need extra time, okay?”

“Thank you,” I whisper, not having the voice to completely explain to him what all of this means to me.

“You are and always will be my priority. You mean more to me than any game I could ever play. You know that, right?”

I nod my head because I have no idea how to respond to something like that.

“No matter what happens, I’ll see you tonight after the game, yeah?” He kisses me lightly, getting up to leave. Just as he reaches the door, I call his name. “Yeah, gorgeous?”

“I love you.”

He winks as he comes back and kneels in front of me. “Love you too, Sunshine.”

His lips find mine quickly before he picks up his bag from beside the door and looks back before opening the door. I try and give him a reassuring nod, but the second the door shuts behind him, everything inside of me changes. The pit in my stomach returns, my hands start shaking and I know this feeling will stay there until I step foot on that field.

“I brought reinforcements,” Mel says, handing me one of the many bags she’s carrying. We take them into the kitchen, and I notice they’re full of all of my favorite snacks. There are piles of candy, some lollipops—something I have always used as a nervous habit snack—and a bottle of whiskey. I hold the bottle in my hand and raise an eyebrow.

“You’re going to need some liquid courage at some point, so I came prepared.” She shrugs, unpacking, and I just stand there with the bottle still in my hand. “Don’t worry,” she whispers through a laugh. “I also brought gum.” She holds up a pack. “You know, so the team doesn’t think you’re a drunk.”

Jesus, could you imagine? Just what I need, naked pictures leaked and the rumor that I’m an alcoholic to surface.

After a few bags of candy and a few shots of whiskey, we start our drive toward the stadium. I can’t tell if the whiskey helped calm my nerves but right now, I feel pretty confident. Yet that feeling quickly disappears when our car gets onto that one highway I know leads to the one place I’ve dreaded for years. My palms start to get slick, my breathing becomes irregular and my vision becomes blurry and I know if I don’t get control of myself soon, everything will fall apart.

“Harp?” Mel asks, but I don’t respond. “Babe, stay with me, okay? Take deep breaths with me, okay?”

I nod in agreement, following her breathing, knowing what to do. “

In: one, two, three… out: one, two, three…” she repeats this over and over again, giving me something to focus on besides the location we’re driving toward.

I keep breathing, in and out, in and out, yet the closer we get, the harder it becomes. My chest starts to get heavy, the hyperventilation seconds away and before I can’t control it, I’m gasping for air as if I’m drowning in the memories that are beginning to surround me.

Thankfully Mel came prepared, handing me a paper bag—something I used to use in college to calm myself down—and I try and breathe through it. We continue to drive and the closer we get to the stadium, the faster I start to breathe into the bag. We turn into the parking lot and that’s when the tears start to form. We park exactly where Josh told us to, and the second the car turns off, Mel turns to face me, seeing the tears begin to streak down my face.

“Look at me,” she demands, and I do as she says. “I need you to focus on me, okay?”

I keep my eyes on hers, continuing to breathe into the bag.

“You can do this. It’s just a building, just a door.”

I roll my eyes, but she takes my hand and squeezes.

“There is nothing special about those things. They are ordinary.”

I don’t say anything.

“Trust me. We need to take this one step at a time. So the first step is getting out of the car.”

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