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At the same time, Asher said, “That’s horrible to say.”
Even Fallon looked as if he was about to blow a nut.
But it was Elena that surprised me the most.
“Don’t be a bitch,” she snapped, turning towards her friend. Thirdy opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “Ignore her,” Elena said to me.
We all gaped at her.
Tommy, my sweet friend, absently placed Mof in Elena’s lap.
“You’ve earned the right to hold the cat.”
The next few minutes were awkward. I didn’t know what to say or how to act. Elena - Elena who hated me with a passion - defended me? Had hell frozen over? Had she turned into a Rager?
Or was she someone that I could potentially become friends with?
I never had a girlfriend before. It had always been an elusive fantasy, so close but just out of reach. For the longest time, I hadn’t even considered it a possibility. Maybe I could become friends with Elena. Maybe with Lilly and Sam. Maybe with...
My brother’s face flashed through my mind, almost as intense as the thunder rumbling outside. The sheer strength of it made me topple over my own two feet.
How could I possibly be thinking of friends when my brother was in danger? He could be dead.
Hysteria bubbled inside of me. The change was so sudden, so dramatic, that I keeled over.
The pain. There was so much pain.
My brother had been at the forefront of my mind for so long. Was it wrong for me to crave a bit of normality? Did he have to be the main character of every one of my thoughts?
Did it make me horrible if, for only a second, I forgot about him?
I was dimly aware of someone’s hands rubbing my back. Voices, sounding as if they were coming through a funnel, reached my ears.
Oh god. I couldn’t breathe; I couldn’t think.
“Princess, breathe for me. You’re okay. You’re fine. You’re having a panic attack.” The soothing voice was familiar. Where had I heard him before?
“Keep breathing. Just like that. Good.”
Ronan.
And it was Asher patting my back. I recognized his spicy scent.
Slowly and surely, I began to get my bearings.
One of my therapists told me to focus on my surroundings if I were to have a panic attack. I decided to do that now.
I was in a house, Elena’s house. I was sitting on a couch. The air was pungent with the smell of chocolate. My hands were warm.
And I was alive.
I repeated that last sentence numerous times. It seemed important to remember that. While these attacks weren’t frequent, they were damning. I had to remember that I was stronger than them.
I had to remember that I was alive.
Taking a staggered breath, I gave Ronan’s hands a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m okay,” I said gently. And, louder, “I’m okay.”
