Fakecation, page 11
John rolled his eyes at her obvious aversion, but he didn’t outwardly question it. “Maybe. Probably. Are you bowing out?”
“No, I’m fine. My—I mean, the medicine will do its work.”
“You don’t have to go if you don’t feel up to it,” Daniel added. “I could go and bring you something back.”
“It’s fine. We have a few hours and I’ll be good by then.”
It wasn’t a lie. It was possible that she would be fine by then.
Just unlikely.
“I’ll just go sit on the deck,” she said. “Come find me if you need me.”
She went outside, thinking the salty air would calm her nerves. It didn’t. All she could think about was how Daniel had looked at her like she could explode at any moment.
And how she couldn’t get her shit together long enough to make him believe she was fine.
She bit her tongue, hating that she hadn’t kept it together as well as she’d wanted. This was why she was better off alone.
But slowly, she began to feel her medicine do its work. Sounds became less intense. She grew to enjoy the noise of the ocean again. But she felt like a bruise after the rough start to the day, and the guilt for not being normal lingered.
The door slid open and a glass of water appeared in her line of sight.
“Here,” Daniel offered. “If you have a headache. This might help. I’m sure you don’t want me to bother you, but I wanted to do something.”
She slowly took the glass. Damn it. He was being so nice.
“Thank you,” she replied. He turned to leave, and she realized she wasn’t ready for that. “You could stay, if you wanted to.”
He paused. “Are you sure?”
“I am.” She moved over to give him more space. He scanned her face, as if looking for a lie. When he sat, she took it as a small win. “I’m sorry for acting weird. Target was . . . a lot.”
“It was for me too.”
“And I really did rush up here to take medicine,” she added. “It’s already helping.”
“I know.”
Her eyes traced over the tense line of his shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not going to bother you with my problems when you’re not feeling well.”
“I’m getting better,” she reassured. “And besides, it would be nice to be out of my own head for a bit.”
“It doesn’t feel right.”
“I’m asking. Please.”
That seemed to do it. He let out a long sigh before speaking. “I guess when you weren’t feeling well, I was nervous. Not because of anything you did, but because I was waiting for you to turn it on me.”
“Wait, why would I turn my feelings on you?”
“Because I suggested going to Target? Because I didn’t leave sooner? I don’t know. But it feels like my fault somehow.”
“It’s not.”
“Even if it’s not, would it matter? It never did before.”
“Oh,” Amelia said. “Like with Lucinda.”
“Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “That’s what life with her was like.”
“That’s not okay. My feelings are mine. Just like hers should have been her own.”
“I know. Or I should know that. It got lost somewhere over the years of pretending like everything was fine.”
She felt a pang of anxiety. “Daniel, I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Does pretending with me bring up bad feelings? Am I somehow triggering anything?” She would feel like the worst kind of person if it did.
“Not all of it,” he answered. “Some of it is completely different. You’re not forcing me to be here or anything. But I don’t know how you handle your bad emotions, and I’m used to how Lucinda handled hers, but that isn’t your fault either.”
It took the wind out of the beginning of a panic spiral. “I don’t even want to have bad emotions, I just—”
“You’re human. Why wouldn’t you have them?” The words felt like a punch to the gut. “Besides, you’re not yelling at me in private, so we’re good.”
“Yell at you? I would never. She sounds like a—” Amelia managed to stop herself for all of one second before the word came tumbling out. “—like a bitch.”
He let out a chuckle. “You’re right. But I am sorry about Target. And that I don’t know how to be perfect for you.”
“I don’t need perfect. I’m definitely not that, so why would I expect you to be?”
“That’s a very good point. You’re pretty good at unraveling my thoughts.”
That was funny because she could say the same thing about him. “I have a few talents.” She gave him a smile.
He looked up, brown eyes meeting hers. “That’s more like you.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his words. It would be so easy to throw their pretense out the window and make this real, especially when he’d handled today so perfectly.
“We should go get ready,” she said. “You’re wearing white, and I doubt that’s going to go well at a taco shop. This place is delicious but messy. You know what?” She eyed the unbuttoned shirt layered over his T-shirt. “Lose the top layer entirely. Go in just the T-shirt.”
“Isn’t that a little informal?”
“It’s vacation, Daniel. And a taco shop. It’s all informal. Come on. I’m doing you a favor here.” She stepped closer. “If you take off this layer, you might be more comfortable.”
Her hands came to rest on his shoulders. She was supposed to be anxious still, but her mind was moving far too fast for that. Now, it was solely focused on removing fabric from his firm shoulders.
Daniel looked down at her, one corner of his mouth raised. “The only way this shirt is coming off is if you take it off.”
“I can work with those terms.” She slid the fabric away from him. The button-down came off easily.
But it almost didn’t feel like enough.
Daniel smiled, as if she’d done exactly what he’d wanted her to. Her heart pounded in her chest. If she leaned in just a few inches . . .
“Ready for tacos?” John’s voice was loud, breaking her out of her trance.
“Y-yeah,” she said. “Always ready for tacos.”
Maybe it was a good thing that her brother had interrupted. Because if he hadn’t, then she might have made things far more complicated.
***
The thing about going to a live music night at a taco bar was that it was loud.
Amelia winced as they approached. Daniel put a hand on her arm, raising his eyebrow.
“Should we bail?” he asked, but she could barely hear him over the music.
Maybe she should have said yes, but she’d been feeling better after her medication kicked in. Maybe she would be fine.
She wished she was. She wished she was the kind of person who could do anything at any time and never get overwhelmed. It would make her life so much easier.
People were packed in, pushing Daniel and her close together. But his body against hers didn’t feel as good as it should. It felt like she was trapped.
Her hands shook, but she kept them out of her sight. She didn’t want to do this here. She didn’t want to panic or overreact.
She was fine.
Her mind flashed to a scene from long ago. A party Andrew had taken her to. She’d been having a day like this, where she couldn’t handle loud noises. He’d told her that she needed to buck up and deal with it.
And she told herself she could handle it. The night had ended in disaster. She’d found a room to hide out in, only for one of his friends to come in and hit on her. Andrew had been so mad. Not only that she had snuck away, but that she’d let someone else make a pass at her. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t wanted to be hit on.
It mattered that she hadn’t been stuck to his side. It mattered that she got overwhelmed. According to him, every mistake could be traced back to that.
But this wasn’t that night. She knew that. Yet every hand that brushed a part of her body felt foreign. It felt like that guy who couldn’t take a hint.
Amelia’s heart rate was through the roof. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think.
She could see her family, and they were all fine. None of them were bothered. Not even Daniel was. He was heading for them, seemingly unaffected by it all.
Amelia tugged out of his grip. She couldn’t go over there. It didn’t matter that they were her safe people. She didn’t want the questions. She didn’t want anyone to look at her.
Daniel noticed it instantly. He turned, an eyebrow raised again. At his gaze, her mind flashed to Andrew’s much crueler one.
And she ran.
As she did, a single word played over and over in her head.
Crazy.
“You’re just crazy, Amelia!” Andrew had said many years ago. “You’re making things up, just like you always do! You’re trying to throw me under the bus for your own problems.”
It didn’t matter that she was running because she was back in her old apartment, dishes piled high as she tried and failed to keep up on chores. Andrew didn’t help—his job was too demanding, and he wanted her to do it since she was only a full-time student. But she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried, no matter what vile words he called her, she just fell behind.
She couldn’t handle it. She couldn’t handle anything.
Why else would she freak out while driving, unlike literally everyone else she knew? Why else would she not be able to handle a perfectly normal evening at a taco shop? Why else would she fake an entire relationship?
Amelia felt like she was being attacked, but it was in her own mind. Her breaths came out ragged, as if she had run for miles and miles without a break.
She headed for the beach, which had plenty of seagrass to hide in. She was secure and alone. It was the perfect place for her panic.
Here, she didn’t have to see her mother’s eyes widen and look at her with pity or see the way her dad jumped in to try and fix it whenever she freaked out. She didn’t want John’s attempted kindness or Daniel’s confusion on why she was upset.
She fell to her knees in the sand, her entire body shaking. Her face felt numb, like she couldn’t gulp enough oxygen. Her old therapist would say she needed to deconstruct what she was freaking out about one piece at a time, but she couldn’t. Not when every little thing was an opportunity to find panic.
“Amelia!” Daniel called. He was looking for her, but she mentally curled in on herself further, hoping he wouldn’t find her hiding spot. She heard footsteps nearby, so close that he had to have seen her. But she couldn’t look.
She couldn’t even look.
A warm, solid hand lay gently on her back. She jumped as if it were the precursor to something much more painful.
It should have made it worse. She could easily find so many things to worry about if she thought hard enough.
But Daniel’s hand felt different now that they were alone. The touch was enough to remind her that her thoughts weren’t real. She wanted to berate herself for needing this, for doing this in the first place.
Those thoughts then passed her by, and for once, she wasn’t dragged with them. They were like the current, always moving, yet she was planted in place.
Daniel’s hand rubbed up and down her back. Eyes still fixed on the sand, she could see he had knelt beside her. She focused on every centimeter his hand moved and the warmth that radiated off his body. It felt like a life preserver.
She was finally able to focus on the world around her. She smelled the salty air, felt the cool, nighttime wind enveloping her, the grit of the sand beneath her, and Daniel’s warm, calming presence. She heard families talking, kids screaming in the distance, the sound of the ocean washing over the sand and shells, taking it away into the dark night.
The anxiety that had a death grip on her went with the current too. She felt her body loosen. She blinked her eyes open and looked at the grains of sand underneath her. She noticed the grass half buried beside her and let out a long, slow breath.
She knew she needed to look at Daniel, but she still couldn’t. The idea was terrifying, and she’d had enough panic for one day.
“I’m sorry.” The words were low, and they weren’t enough.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “It’s okay not to be fine.”
“But I worried you.”
“You’re not responsible for my feelings.”
Those were a version of her words, turned around on her like it was nothing. Amelia was used to Andrew twisting things, but never like this. She was used to being the one to bend. She would have the extra patience, extra kindness. Never them.
And she was not used to getting it in return.
“I overreacted. I know I did.”
“Not really, considering you haven’t been feeling well all day.” His words were soft. Patient.
It made her throat close up. “It was loud.”
“It was.”
“I should have stayed home.”
“Maybe. But that’s in the past now. This is where we’re at.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, and it wouldn’t matter if I was. I don’t take my emotions out on people. And you don’t need to take yours out on yourself, either.”
“Wh-what?”
“If it were me, and I was with Lucinda, I’d know exactly how mad she was. And I’d do some of the work for her by being mad at myself for it. Does that sound fair?”
“No.” Her eyes left the ground and she was finally able to look up at him. “I see your point.”
“Good, because I wasn’t sure I worded that right.”
“It sounded dangerously close to what one of my therapists said, which is probably what I needed to hear.”
“What else do they say?”
“To think about my surroundings, which I finally did. And to . . . stay home if I feel off.”
“The closest thing to that is the condo. Should we go back?”
“I don’t want to ruin your night.”
“It’s not ruined. Not if I’m with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am very sure.”
She huffed out a laugh. “I’m not entirely convinced you’re real. Usually, people aren’t this nice about my . . . panic.”
“That’s funny because I could say the same thing about you.”
“We’re two peas in a pod, I guess.” This strange kinship prompted her to say even more. Things she never would say. “I have anxiety, by the way. I think a level-two boyfriend should know that.”
It was a gamble. One that could end horribly.
But God, she didn’t want it to. She stared at his features, waiting for the familiar judgment or an eye roll that she had received from so many others.
It didn’t come.
“Level two? Have I been promoted?”
“On accident, but yes. You have.”
“Then thank you for telling me.”
“You have to have thoughts. Maybe questions.”
“Only one.”
“What is it?” Maybe it would be about her medication or how she even got her job.
“How do I help you with it?”
“What?” She had never been asked that before.
“I know at work you handle it remarkably well, but I want to be able to help you feel more comfortable. What can I do?”
“This,” she said. “Just being here.”
“Okay. Anything else?”
“I mean, that is more than enough.”
“Not really. I consider being with you one of the easiest things I’ve ever done. And if that’s all you need, then I’ll happily do it. But if you ever need more, just ask.”
Amelia blinked. She was so flabbergasted that she couldn’t form words. Maybe he wasn’t judgmental. Maybe he was like her parents.
But she felt a tug, a fear begging to be listened to.
Anxiety is easy. ADHD is not.
There were debates about medication. Debates about how it manifested in women. It required nuance.
“People would pay top dollar for this shit, Amelia,” Andrew had said. “And you’re using it just to do what the rest of us can do easily.”
If Daniel questioned any of it, she might break. And she’d already done that tonight. Maybe it was best if she focused on answering his question and kept her other diagnosis to herself.
“The hand thing helped,” she said. “And maybe tell me to stay home. Or that it’s okay to.”
Daniel nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Then, in the vein of that, I think we should go back to the condo.”
“Yeah. I definitely agree.”
“You need some rest.”
“I don’t want to ruin your night,” she repeated.
Daniel stood, brushing off his shorts. “I told you, it’s not ruined if I’m with you.”
Amelia could only look at him, wondering how she could ever go back to seeing him at work, all stiff and polished. Here, he had been himself, wearing casual clothes and letting his hair curl freely. He was an entirely different man than the one she thought she knew.
He held out his hand to her, offering her help to get up. She took it without hesitation, allowing him to pull her to her feet. His hand was warm and comforting, just as it had been on her back. She blinked at him for a moment, intensely grateful for his presence, before she pulled her hand out of his to brush the sand off of her own outfit and to pull her unruly hair back.
After she texted her family that she would have to skip the taco shop for the night, they made the short walk back to the condo. When they got into their room, Amelia lay on the bed. All she wanted to do was sleep.
“I can go out on the balcony if you need alone time,” Daniel said, pulling out a book from his bag. “I’ll just be reading.”
She usually would kill for alone time. When she was with Andrew, she always wanted to be away from him when she was upset. But the idea of being in this room and Daniel being somewhere else made an unknown emotion swell in her—one she didn’t like.
She immediately knew she didn’t want him to leave.
“Stay, please,” she urged.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“You’re not just saying that for my sake?”
“I don’t . . . I don’t really want to be alone right now.” She felt a blush rise to her face. “I understand if you do, but I kind of liked it when you were there with me.”
“No, I’m fine. My—I mean, the medicine will do its work.”
“You don’t have to go if you don’t feel up to it,” Daniel added. “I could go and bring you something back.”
“It’s fine. We have a few hours and I’ll be good by then.”
It wasn’t a lie. It was possible that she would be fine by then.
Just unlikely.
“I’ll just go sit on the deck,” she said. “Come find me if you need me.”
She went outside, thinking the salty air would calm her nerves. It didn’t. All she could think about was how Daniel had looked at her like she could explode at any moment.
And how she couldn’t get her shit together long enough to make him believe she was fine.
She bit her tongue, hating that she hadn’t kept it together as well as she’d wanted. This was why she was better off alone.
But slowly, she began to feel her medicine do its work. Sounds became less intense. She grew to enjoy the noise of the ocean again. But she felt like a bruise after the rough start to the day, and the guilt for not being normal lingered.
The door slid open and a glass of water appeared in her line of sight.
“Here,” Daniel offered. “If you have a headache. This might help. I’m sure you don’t want me to bother you, but I wanted to do something.”
She slowly took the glass. Damn it. He was being so nice.
“Thank you,” she replied. He turned to leave, and she realized she wasn’t ready for that. “You could stay, if you wanted to.”
He paused. “Are you sure?”
“I am.” She moved over to give him more space. He scanned her face, as if looking for a lie. When he sat, she took it as a small win. “I’m sorry for acting weird. Target was . . . a lot.”
“It was for me too.”
“And I really did rush up here to take medicine,” she added. “It’s already helping.”
“I know.”
Her eyes traced over the tense line of his shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not going to bother you with my problems when you’re not feeling well.”
“I’m getting better,” she reassured. “And besides, it would be nice to be out of my own head for a bit.”
“It doesn’t feel right.”
“I’m asking. Please.”
That seemed to do it. He let out a long sigh before speaking. “I guess when you weren’t feeling well, I was nervous. Not because of anything you did, but because I was waiting for you to turn it on me.”
“Wait, why would I turn my feelings on you?”
“Because I suggested going to Target? Because I didn’t leave sooner? I don’t know. But it feels like my fault somehow.”
“It’s not.”
“Even if it’s not, would it matter? It never did before.”
“Oh,” Amelia said. “Like with Lucinda.”
“Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “That’s what life with her was like.”
“That’s not okay. My feelings are mine. Just like hers should have been her own.”
“I know. Or I should know that. It got lost somewhere over the years of pretending like everything was fine.”
She felt a pang of anxiety. “Daniel, I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Does pretending with me bring up bad feelings? Am I somehow triggering anything?” She would feel like the worst kind of person if it did.
“Not all of it,” he answered. “Some of it is completely different. You’re not forcing me to be here or anything. But I don’t know how you handle your bad emotions, and I’m used to how Lucinda handled hers, but that isn’t your fault either.”
It took the wind out of the beginning of a panic spiral. “I don’t even want to have bad emotions, I just—”
“You’re human. Why wouldn’t you have them?” The words felt like a punch to the gut. “Besides, you’re not yelling at me in private, so we’re good.”
“Yell at you? I would never. She sounds like a—” Amelia managed to stop herself for all of one second before the word came tumbling out. “—like a bitch.”
He let out a chuckle. “You’re right. But I am sorry about Target. And that I don’t know how to be perfect for you.”
“I don’t need perfect. I’m definitely not that, so why would I expect you to be?”
“That’s a very good point. You’re pretty good at unraveling my thoughts.”
That was funny because she could say the same thing about him. “I have a few talents.” She gave him a smile.
He looked up, brown eyes meeting hers. “That’s more like you.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his words. It would be so easy to throw their pretense out the window and make this real, especially when he’d handled today so perfectly.
“We should go get ready,” she said. “You’re wearing white, and I doubt that’s going to go well at a taco shop. This place is delicious but messy. You know what?” She eyed the unbuttoned shirt layered over his T-shirt. “Lose the top layer entirely. Go in just the T-shirt.”
“Isn’t that a little informal?”
“It’s vacation, Daniel. And a taco shop. It’s all informal. Come on. I’m doing you a favor here.” She stepped closer. “If you take off this layer, you might be more comfortable.”
Her hands came to rest on his shoulders. She was supposed to be anxious still, but her mind was moving far too fast for that. Now, it was solely focused on removing fabric from his firm shoulders.
Daniel looked down at her, one corner of his mouth raised. “The only way this shirt is coming off is if you take it off.”
“I can work with those terms.” She slid the fabric away from him. The button-down came off easily.
But it almost didn’t feel like enough.
Daniel smiled, as if she’d done exactly what he’d wanted her to. Her heart pounded in her chest. If she leaned in just a few inches . . .
“Ready for tacos?” John’s voice was loud, breaking her out of her trance.
“Y-yeah,” she said. “Always ready for tacos.”
Maybe it was a good thing that her brother had interrupted. Because if he hadn’t, then she might have made things far more complicated.
***
The thing about going to a live music night at a taco bar was that it was loud.
Amelia winced as they approached. Daniel put a hand on her arm, raising his eyebrow.
“Should we bail?” he asked, but she could barely hear him over the music.
Maybe she should have said yes, but she’d been feeling better after her medication kicked in. Maybe she would be fine.
She wished she was. She wished she was the kind of person who could do anything at any time and never get overwhelmed. It would make her life so much easier.
People were packed in, pushing Daniel and her close together. But his body against hers didn’t feel as good as it should. It felt like she was trapped.
Her hands shook, but she kept them out of her sight. She didn’t want to do this here. She didn’t want to panic or overreact.
She was fine.
Her mind flashed to a scene from long ago. A party Andrew had taken her to. She’d been having a day like this, where she couldn’t handle loud noises. He’d told her that she needed to buck up and deal with it.
And she told herself she could handle it. The night had ended in disaster. She’d found a room to hide out in, only for one of his friends to come in and hit on her. Andrew had been so mad. Not only that she had snuck away, but that she’d let someone else make a pass at her. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t wanted to be hit on.
It mattered that she hadn’t been stuck to his side. It mattered that she got overwhelmed. According to him, every mistake could be traced back to that.
But this wasn’t that night. She knew that. Yet every hand that brushed a part of her body felt foreign. It felt like that guy who couldn’t take a hint.
Amelia’s heart rate was through the roof. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think.
She could see her family, and they were all fine. None of them were bothered. Not even Daniel was. He was heading for them, seemingly unaffected by it all.
Amelia tugged out of his grip. She couldn’t go over there. It didn’t matter that they were her safe people. She didn’t want the questions. She didn’t want anyone to look at her.
Daniel noticed it instantly. He turned, an eyebrow raised again. At his gaze, her mind flashed to Andrew’s much crueler one.
And she ran.
As she did, a single word played over and over in her head.
Crazy.
“You’re just crazy, Amelia!” Andrew had said many years ago. “You’re making things up, just like you always do! You’re trying to throw me under the bus for your own problems.”
It didn’t matter that she was running because she was back in her old apartment, dishes piled high as she tried and failed to keep up on chores. Andrew didn’t help—his job was too demanding, and he wanted her to do it since she was only a full-time student. But she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried, no matter what vile words he called her, she just fell behind.
She couldn’t handle it. She couldn’t handle anything.
Why else would she freak out while driving, unlike literally everyone else she knew? Why else would she not be able to handle a perfectly normal evening at a taco shop? Why else would she fake an entire relationship?
Amelia felt like she was being attacked, but it was in her own mind. Her breaths came out ragged, as if she had run for miles and miles without a break.
She headed for the beach, which had plenty of seagrass to hide in. She was secure and alone. It was the perfect place for her panic.
Here, she didn’t have to see her mother’s eyes widen and look at her with pity or see the way her dad jumped in to try and fix it whenever she freaked out. She didn’t want John’s attempted kindness or Daniel’s confusion on why she was upset.
She fell to her knees in the sand, her entire body shaking. Her face felt numb, like she couldn’t gulp enough oxygen. Her old therapist would say she needed to deconstruct what she was freaking out about one piece at a time, but she couldn’t. Not when every little thing was an opportunity to find panic.
“Amelia!” Daniel called. He was looking for her, but she mentally curled in on herself further, hoping he wouldn’t find her hiding spot. She heard footsteps nearby, so close that he had to have seen her. But she couldn’t look.
She couldn’t even look.
A warm, solid hand lay gently on her back. She jumped as if it were the precursor to something much more painful.
It should have made it worse. She could easily find so many things to worry about if she thought hard enough.
But Daniel’s hand felt different now that they were alone. The touch was enough to remind her that her thoughts weren’t real. She wanted to berate herself for needing this, for doing this in the first place.
Those thoughts then passed her by, and for once, she wasn’t dragged with them. They were like the current, always moving, yet she was planted in place.
Daniel’s hand rubbed up and down her back. Eyes still fixed on the sand, she could see he had knelt beside her. She focused on every centimeter his hand moved and the warmth that radiated off his body. It felt like a life preserver.
She was finally able to focus on the world around her. She smelled the salty air, felt the cool, nighttime wind enveloping her, the grit of the sand beneath her, and Daniel’s warm, calming presence. She heard families talking, kids screaming in the distance, the sound of the ocean washing over the sand and shells, taking it away into the dark night.
The anxiety that had a death grip on her went with the current too. She felt her body loosen. She blinked her eyes open and looked at the grains of sand underneath her. She noticed the grass half buried beside her and let out a long, slow breath.
She knew she needed to look at Daniel, but she still couldn’t. The idea was terrifying, and she’d had enough panic for one day.
“I’m sorry.” The words were low, and they weren’t enough.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “It’s okay not to be fine.”
“But I worried you.”
“You’re not responsible for my feelings.”
Those were a version of her words, turned around on her like it was nothing. Amelia was used to Andrew twisting things, but never like this. She was used to being the one to bend. She would have the extra patience, extra kindness. Never them.
And she was not used to getting it in return.
“I overreacted. I know I did.”
“Not really, considering you haven’t been feeling well all day.” His words were soft. Patient.
It made her throat close up. “It was loud.”
“It was.”
“I should have stayed home.”
“Maybe. But that’s in the past now. This is where we’re at.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, and it wouldn’t matter if I was. I don’t take my emotions out on people. And you don’t need to take yours out on yourself, either.”
“Wh-what?”
“If it were me, and I was with Lucinda, I’d know exactly how mad she was. And I’d do some of the work for her by being mad at myself for it. Does that sound fair?”
“No.” Her eyes left the ground and she was finally able to look up at him. “I see your point.”
“Good, because I wasn’t sure I worded that right.”
“It sounded dangerously close to what one of my therapists said, which is probably what I needed to hear.”
“What else do they say?”
“To think about my surroundings, which I finally did. And to . . . stay home if I feel off.”
“The closest thing to that is the condo. Should we go back?”
“I don’t want to ruin your night.”
“It’s not ruined. Not if I’m with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am very sure.”
She huffed out a laugh. “I’m not entirely convinced you’re real. Usually, people aren’t this nice about my . . . panic.”
“That’s funny because I could say the same thing about you.”
“We’re two peas in a pod, I guess.” This strange kinship prompted her to say even more. Things she never would say. “I have anxiety, by the way. I think a level-two boyfriend should know that.”
It was a gamble. One that could end horribly.
But God, she didn’t want it to. She stared at his features, waiting for the familiar judgment or an eye roll that she had received from so many others.
It didn’t come.
“Level two? Have I been promoted?”
“On accident, but yes. You have.”
“Then thank you for telling me.”
“You have to have thoughts. Maybe questions.”
“Only one.”
“What is it?” Maybe it would be about her medication or how she even got her job.
“How do I help you with it?”
“What?” She had never been asked that before.
“I know at work you handle it remarkably well, but I want to be able to help you feel more comfortable. What can I do?”
“This,” she said. “Just being here.”
“Okay. Anything else?”
“I mean, that is more than enough.”
“Not really. I consider being with you one of the easiest things I’ve ever done. And if that’s all you need, then I’ll happily do it. But if you ever need more, just ask.”
Amelia blinked. She was so flabbergasted that she couldn’t form words. Maybe he wasn’t judgmental. Maybe he was like her parents.
But she felt a tug, a fear begging to be listened to.
Anxiety is easy. ADHD is not.
There were debates about medication. Debates about how it manifested in women. It required nuance.
“People would pay top dollar for this shit, Amelia,” Andrew had said. “And you’re using it just to do what the rest of us can do easily.”
If Daniel questioned any of it, she might break. And she’d already done that tonight. Maybe it was best if she focused on answering his question and kept her other diagnosis to herself.
“The hand thing helped,” she said. “And maybe tell me to stay home. Or that it’s okay to.”
Daniel nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Then, in the vein of that, I think we should go back to the condo.”
“Yeah. I definitely agree.”
“You need some rest.”
“I don’t want to ruin your night,” she repeated.
Daniel stood, brushing off his shorts. “I told you, it’s not ruined if I’m with you.”
Amelia could only look at him, wondering how she could ever go back to seeing him at work, all stiff and polished. Here, he had been himself, wearing casual clothes and letting his hair curl freely. He was an entirely different man than the one she thought she knew.
He held out his hand to her, offering her help to get up. She took it without hesitation, allowing him to pull her to her feet. His hand was warm and comforting, just as it had been on her back. She blinked at him for a moment, intensely grateful for his presence, before she pulled her hand out of his to brush the sand off of her own outfit and to pull her unruly hair back.
After she texted her family that she would have to skip the taco shop for the night, they made the short walk back to the condo. When they got into their room, Amelia lay on the bed. All she wanted to do was sleep.
“I can go out on the balcony if you need alone time,” Daniel said, pulling out a book from his bag. “I’ll just be reading.”
She usually would kill for alone time. When she was with Andrew, she always wanted to be away from him when she was upset. But the idea of being in this room and Daniel being somewhere else made an unknown emotion swell in her—one she didn’t like.
She immediately knew she didn’t want him to leave.
“Stay, please,” she urged.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“You’re not just saying that for my sake?”
“I don’t . . . I don’t really want to be alone right now.” She felt a blush rise to her face. “I understand if you do, but I kind of liked it when you were there with me.”
