Page 36 of Check You Out

It’s someone else. Someone I don’t know.

Not-Dan nods and says a brief, “Good evening,” and brushes past me.

I somehow squeak out a “Good evening,” but once Not-Dan is gone, the air leaves my body in a rattling sigh. Finding the nearest bench, I collapse and bury my forehead in my hands.

I don’t know how long I sit there, but what seems like only seconds later, a soft voice makes me jump. “Aidan, you ok?”

Charlotte.

“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Were the ladies too much? I mean, I know they have their opinions, and they make them known, loudly, but…” Her voice trails off.

I shake my head. My voice cracks as I talk. “No. No. It’s—I wasn’t—They were fine. I like them.” Letting out a sigh, I add, “I thought I saw someone I really don’t want to see right now.” My heart starts to slow as I breathe in the heady scent of lavender and vanilla. I lift my head from my hands. “Shouldn’t you be back in there? Leading the meeting?”

“Sarah is leading this one,” she remarks. “I’m just the opener. Nobody will miss me.” Her fingers grip the edge of the bench. “I just got worried when you walked out. At first, I thought, maybe you’re sick or needed to run to the bathroom, but then I saw you sitting out here and well—” She chews on her lip. “I got worried.”

“Thanks. I’m fine.”

“Who’d you see? Or who do you think you saw?” She asks, shifting closer. She’s wearing a red polka dot dress with a flaring skirt and a soft cream sweater. Her hair is unbound today, cascading around her shoulders and down her back like a golden-brown waterfall.

My mouth opens and goes dry. “My father.”

She nods slowly and shifts on the bench. Our thighs are only a few inches apart. “Ah. Based on how you’re saying that I assume that things are not good.” She tucks her hands under her thighs.

I swallow hard. “He and I don’t have a good relationship. He finds fault in everything I do.” I thread my fingers together. “I panicked about seeing him unexpectedly. The last time we spoke, he asked me if we could have a relationship, and I still haven’t made up my mind.” I’m realizing that I might be yapping, and the acid sloshes in my stomach. “I kind of thought he was here and was demanding an answer.”

She bobs her head and her golden-brown waves shift with the movement. “Panic attack? You’re not actively having one right now?”

I shake my head. “I’m ok now.”

I brace myself for the possibility that I’m right. That Charlotte is going to judge me for having anxiety and panic attacks. My knuckles groan from the grip I have on my own hands.

“Can I do anything for you?” she asks, her voice is still soft, and her face is more concerned than annoyed. She jabs a thumb in the direction of the room. “I don’t have to go back in there. I can sit out here and be with you. Or I can go grab you some water? Or coffee?” Her gaze darts around the hallway we’re in. “I’m pretty sure there’s a vending machine with coffee around here. I’m not sure where exactly. I can always ask one of the librarians.”

A soft chuckle escapes through my nose. “I’m ok. Go back inside. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I lean back against the wall behind me, resting my hands on my thighs. “I just need to breathe.”

She studies me for several long seconds, her blue eyes crisscrossing my face. Her mouth parts, and she takes a breath like she’s going to say something more. But no words come out. She runs her hand through her hair. “Are you sure? I don’t mind.” She pulls her lower lip under her teeth.

“Yes. I’m fine. Please go back in. I’ll just be a minute.” I reach over and rest my hand on her knee. The gesture feels a little bit forward, but she grasps my hand and squeezes lightly.

She rises to her feet, and my hand grows cold. “Ok.” She backs away to the meeting room. Her eyes never stray from me. “Promise me you’ll text if you need anything.”

A smile creeps up my face. “I will.” My hand drops to my side and I flex my fingers, trying to remember the touch of her fingers against mine.

With a thumbs up, she leaves me.

I watch her go. My limbs relax, and my spine starts to ache from sitting against an uncomfortable wall. After a few more minutes, I walk back into the room and take my seat next to Charlotte.

She notices my return and smiles. She mouths, “You good?” to which I reply with a nod.

She didn’t run. She didn’t laugh. She didn’t turn up her nose and scowl. She didn’t call me weak, pathetic, or a sissy. She looked me in the eye and asked me what I needed. What I wanted. My mind replays how she has accommodated me when my social anxiety has overwhelmed me. She sees me, and she accepts me.

Maybe she does like me.

15

Charlotte

“Can I walk you home?” Aidan asks me once Book Club ends.