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I stumble back a couple of steps, trip over my own feet, and land on my butt on the cold, damp grass. My mouth opens in a scream that doesn’t reach my throat. I’m sucked back into the fun house with the hanging clowns, and the big teenage boys who were pushing, and the hollow-eyed, gray-toothed man. I curl into a ball and cover my head with my arms.
I should do one of my calming exercises, but it’s loud, and River is yelling for our dad, and there’s a ghostly soundtrack playing in the background. It’s all too much. I can’t focus on anything but the panic as it sinks its teeth in and takes hold.
Someone tries to touch me, and I kick out, scrambling away from the hands.
“I can help. Let me help.”
I feel the thud of knees hitting the ground beside me. “Lavender, it’s Kodiak.” Warm breath that smells fruity like candy hits my cheek, and I shiver violently.
“It’s okay. I got you. I’ll make it better.” His voice is deeper than it used to be, like he’s hovering between kid and teen. His palm settles on the nape of my neck and curves around it.
The wave of relief is almost instantaneous. It takes so much less effort to calm down when Kodiak is here. I know it’s not good for me. Queenie and I talk about how relying on another person to calm the anxiety, even my mom or River, can be dangerous, but it’s hard not to let him help when it’s so much easier.
“It’s just stupid boys wearing masks. You’re safe right here with me. Just breathe, and when you’re ready, I’ll walk you home,” he murmurs in my ear, his cheek almost touching mine as he speaks, reassuring me that it’s fine, to focus on his voice. He takes my hand and presses it against the side of his neck so I can feel his pulse slowing. His other hand stays anchored against the back of my neck, and his index finger draws figure eights on my skin. The pattern is lulling, like his heartbeat, and it slows as our breathing does. As the anxiety settles, a new emotion creeps in: embarrassment.
I had a panic attack in the middle of someone’s front walk because boys dressed as clowns scared me. Usually when I have one, there isn’t an audience, or at least not one like this. My parents and brothers and maybe my cousins might be witnesses, but not the neighborhood kids who will whisper about me. And this will be another reason for River to be overprotective, and for me to want to hide from the world.
As if he knows what I’m thinking, Kodiak whispers, “We made a wall around you. You’re protected, Lavender. The boys are gone, and no one knows you’re here. We can cut across the front lawn and go back to my house, if that would make it better. I can show you what I made the other day when I was at Queenie’s.”
Kodiak has anxiety too, so he also goes to see Queenie. But he’s better at managing his most of the time. He has other things that make life difficult, though, like always wanting everything to be perfect, including himself. Mom says it’s impossible to be perfect, so he’s always setting himself up to fail, and it makes me sad.
Kodiak gets straight A’s all the time, but if he gets one question wrong on a test, he has a meltdown. They’re not the same as mine. He folds in on himself, a broken lawn chair. Beats himself up. Pushes himself too hard until he cracks, like a chip in a windshield that spiders out until the whole thing threatens to shatter. He usually manages to pull himself back together before it gets to that point. But not always.
Kodiak slips his hands in mine and pulls me to my feet. River nudges him out of the way and puts his arm around me, hiding me in his cape. All I want is the calm Kodiak brings, but now I have River’s possessive anger and his guilt because he didn’t see the boys with the masks before it was too late.
Sometimes it’s hard to balance the things I want with the things that make me feel bad, like River’s guilt and his overprotectiveness. And how much I like the attention from Kodiak.Chapter TwelveExposed
Lavender
Present day
“HAVE YOU TRIED talking to Kody?”
I have video therapy with Queenie today. Usually my sessions are more spread out, but with all the changes that have come with a new college and living away from home for the first time, we decided to add a few. “I don’t know that talking would be particularly helpful,” I tell her. I produce a heart marshmallow from my box of Lucky Charms and eat it.
