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I shake my head.
“Do you think it’s a panic attack?”
“I don’t know,” I say, unable to mask my worry and pain. “It came on so suddenly.”
Mike unzips his bag and pulls out a water bottle. “Here, take this. It’ll help.”
“How do you know?” I ask, feeling like a child as I take his water and guzzle down several long drinks.
“Because I get panic attacks, too.”
I raise an eyebrow. Mike? Panic attacks? I can’t see him panicking about anything. He’s always drunk, or going on and on about his running time, which irritates Seth, because Mike usually has nothing to brag about. He runs better than most, but he’s definitely not the star of Aurora’s track team. It’s strange to think someone as boneheaded as him could ever worry about anything more than the next party of the week.
“Thank you,” I say while handing him his bottle back. I feel bad. There’s only a quarter left. I don’t ask him what he gets panic attacks over, although I’m definitely tempted. Mike is definitely an interesting person.
“Don’t mention it.” He holds out his hand and I take it, allowing him to pull me off the floor. “You going to be okay?”
I’m not sure, but I give him a nod. Mike is great and all, but speaking about feelings with another guy isn’t really my thing. I return back to the desk. Amy gives me a worried look, but doesn’t say anything, which I’m thankful for. When I face front, I see Millie standing in the corner, watching me, with a smirk. Fuck. I really hope this doesn’t become a daily occurrence.
I take out my phone and type a quick message to Rachel:Meet at library in two hours? I really need to talk to you. Millie is here.
Two and a half hours later and I am sitting across from Rachel in the campus library. It’s quite empty for it being the late afternoon on a Monday, which makes me wonder what crazy party is going on tonight. I push that thought away, knowing nothing good lies in that answer.
“You have to be kidding me,” Rachel says as she leans over the table, a coffee in hand, her fringe falling over her eyes. She moves it out of the way with a quick shake of her head. The slight movement makes my heart swell. She looks so beautiful. She doesn’t even have to try hard. Her face is flushed from the winter chill and she’s still bundled up in a huge fluffy scarf wrapped around her oversized sweater. I want to wrap my arms around her and cuddle with her until the next morning. If only I could follow her home tonight.
“She was actually at the gym?” Rachel asks with a deep frown.
I bob my head. “Yep.”
“What did she say?”
I grimace, feeling that itch winding around me. “She told me about a party tonight.”
“What?” Rachel scowls. “What did you say?”
“I told her no, obviously.” My tone is bitter and the look on Rachel’s face lets me know I was a tad harsh. It’s frustrating. People are constantly bringing up my sobriety, or referencing it, worried I will cave in. And it’s my fault. I fell of the wagon, now I have to deal with the repercussions. I have to gain everyone’s trust again, which makes it all the more difficult to remain sober, because I feel like no one believes on me.
Rachel nods and places a hand on mine. “I know, Hunter. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.” I groan and run my hands through my hair. “I don’t know what to do. Every time I see her I think of…” I grimace at the table, once again seeing the powder in front of me, the booze running through my system. I hear the laughing, feel the swing of the bat hitting me. “I think of that time. And even though, it was absolutely terrible, there’s a part of me that wants to fall into that hole and never leave it.”
“Hunter—”
“I hate admitting it,” I rush out, “but it’s the truth. And I hate it.”
Rachel sighs and leans towards me until I can feel her forehead pressing against mine. “Why don’t you speak with Dr. Forrester about it. She’ll know what to do. I don’t want you to think I don’t want to listen. I definitely do, but I’m not a professional. I have no idea what you’re going through, and I don’t want you to feel guilty for speaking the truth.”
I nod. “Yeah. You’re right.”
It sucks I ran into Millie like this, just when I’m getting my life back on track. Dr. Forrester can help, but only so much and I worry that dark, terrible side of me will take hold of me once again. There’s only so many chances everyone can give me.
And if we’re playing by baseball rules, I’m on my last one.
Chapter 7
RACHEL
Thephotography302classroomstares back at me as I hover outside its door. I can’t believe I’ve made it this far. I feel like it was just yesterday I was taking my first college photography class, and now, I’m in 302, where I can make my own photography project, based on one art theory I’m passionate about. At the end of the semester, we get to show our work to other art students and explain our inspiration behind our work. This is the make it or break it class. It’s the class that’s going to show the world what I can do.
