• Chapter forty-nine: This is pathetic

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𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘

Trigger warning: panic attack

Kenzie's eyes widen when she realises that I'm struggling to breathe properly. I'm about to have a panic attack, and there's nothing I can do to prevent it from happening.

I run out the classroom and into the disabled toilets which are right next to it, locking the door. Hunched over the sink, I try to even out my breathing, but it's no use. Blood is pounding in my ears, and the ringing noise that was there before increases in sound. I look up at myself in the mirror above the sink and find that my vision is blurry. Tears fill my eyes again.

Oh please no.

I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.

Why the fuck do people fake this, thinking that it's quirky? It's torture. So much torture.

Stop stop stop stop

I'm hyperventilating now. My chest hurts, my heart is thrumming heavily against my ribs, my palms are drenched in sweat which causes my hold on the sink to slip paired with how shaky my hands are. My stomach churns, bile rises in my throat, and all I want right now is Alex.

Alex. Where's Alex? I need Alex.

Alex, Alex, Alex. Always Alex.

I feel so cold.

I hadn't realised that I am sobbing until my face begins to hurt from it. It only causes me to feel like I am choking, which makes the trying to breathe properly thing even harder.

I rush to the toilet and empty my guts.

Why did this happen? I just want my best friend back, but now she's gone and thinks I'm a whore and a snowflake and hates my boyfriend and hates me too and will only come back if I break up with Alex and I'm never going to have her as a friend again. I always had the feeling of dread in the back of my mind, a voice telling me that everything will go to shit, but I never thought it would be true.

This is nothing to have a panic attack about yet I am having a panic attack in school in a disabled toilet which is totally selfish of my because I'm not disabled and shouldn't be in here. I also shouldn't be overreacting like this, Cami's correct on the snowflake part, and I'm going to have to deal with this for the rest of my life. I don't want to deal with this for the rest of my life, though. My pills can only do so much and it sucks. I just want it to stop.

I flush the toilet and try to get up, but the pins and needles in my feet, and the fact that my legs feel numb, prevents me from doing so. I shuffle over the the wall so that my back is against it, pull my knees up to my chest, fold my arms over them, and cry, and cry, and cry.

All the sudden, I hear someone knocking on the door. The sound is louder than it should be.

"Matthew, it's me. Kenzie came and got me. Please let me in," Alex says. His voice is muffled but it's undoubtedly him. "Please."

He's here. My Alex.

I let out a sob of relief. The sound of his voice alone gives me the motivation to pull myself up and shakily make my way over to the door to unlock it. Alex wastes no time opening the door as soon it's unlocked.

"Oh, baby," he breathes out when he sees me, closing the door behind him.

I wrap my arms around him and I cry into his shoulder. The smell of his signature scent, and the way he is rubbing circles on my back, and his voice telling me that he's here, he's got me and that I'm safe, relaxes me a bit almost instantly, but not entirely. He knows not to wrap his arms around me, so he doesn't. My movement can't be limited right now.

"Take your meds, angel. I got them out your bag. They'll make you feel better." Alex tells me. My bag? My bag is still in the art room. That means he knows I was having a panic attack. How?

I pull myself away from him as he pours the correct amount of pills into his hand then assists me in take them. That's when I realise he also has a bottle of water, which he helps me take sips from as my hands are too shaky to do it myself.

"Breathe for me. Stay in the present," He instructs. I do as he says, breathing with him, all while avoiding his gaze, shameful of the fact that he's seeing my like this: so weak, so pathetic, so small. I can hear myself make gasping sounds as I try to breathe. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. "What you are feeling is scary, but it is not dangerous."

I feel dizzy. My head is spinning, my chest is heaving and my legs are numb, so I cling onto him in case I fall.

"Do you want to go into the classroom where there is more space?" He asks.

I nod, so Alex takes ahold of my hand and gently pulls me out of the toilets and into the classroom I was in before. His bag is already in here next to my things. My big folder of all artwork is still laid out on the table and this only reminds me why I was in here, who I was with, what happened, although I'm sure I won't ever properly forget. It will be a memory that will protrude my life at the worst times and will be memorised like my favourite scene in a movie.

Sitting me down, he asks me to name things that I can see, hear, feel, taste and smell, all in effort to help me calm down, to help me stop thinking about my worst nightmare that has so quickly, in one throbbing moment, become my reality.

This isn't the first time he's seen me like this, and I know it won't be the last. But knowing that he knows what to do, knowing that he bothers to help me feel calmer and safer, means more to me than anyone could ever imagine. I have never had someone who cares as much as he does before.

It takes a while, but I eventually calm down. When I feel like I am ready, I explain what happened, even if he didn't ask. He stays quiet and listens as I go on about how much I had gotten my hopes up, how scared I was, how scared I am now that I don't have her, how disappointed I am, how embarrassed I am for having such an intense reaction.

"You've apologised about ten times since you started talking, and said 'I know I'm overreacting' five times." Alex says, holding my hand in his. "Baby, you cannot help how you react to things. That is completely out of your control, so whether or not this is an overreaction, that is not your fault and is nothing to apologise for. Your stress is valid. You have an anxiety disorder and Cami knows that. She should know that you would have a bad reaction to this. She's your best friend, for God's sake, it's not that hard to be careful. I don't care what she thinks of me, but as I said, she's your best friend. This is her fault because she was the one who assumed things and blatantly ignored what you said, on purpose. It's like she wanted an argument. She had no right acting the way she did and saying those things. None of this is your fault. I don't want to hear you say that again."

I don't say anything. Instead, I burrow into him, craving his warmth and comfort. Now that I am not having a panic attack anymore, Alex wraps his arms around me and hold me to him, his hand still caressing my back.

"I just want to go home," I say, my voice muffled.

It's at this moment that the bell goes off, signally the end of lunch. The sound hurts my oversensitive ears. We don't have to go to lesson as it's the last day of the school year. In place of our last two lessons is a twenty minute assembly and then we get to go home early.

"I know, gorgeous. I'll take you to the nurse and you can sit in her office while I go to assembly and then we'll go home, OK?"

"Do you have any gum? I threw up in the toilets," I tell him. A look of concern flashes across his face, and he pulls out a packet of peppermint gum from his pocket, handing it to me.

There's a knocking at the door, so we both look up and see Kenzie standing there. She's wearing a hesitant smile, eyes staring at us warily, her movements unsure.

"Thank you for coming to get me, by the way," Alex says to her. "And for sticking up for Matthew. You're a great friend."

She shrugs, "It's really no problem. I couldn't have Cami saying those things."

I get up and make my way over to Kenzie. When I reach her, I pull her into a hug, uttering, "Thank you. You don't know how much it means to me."

All three of us then leave the classroom, Alex carrying my art folder for me, despite my protest. We avoid the curious gazes of students, all intrigued to know why I am walking down the hallways calmly with Alex at my side, him carrying my stuff. I could not care less.

We soon reach the nurse's desk. Here, Alex explains that I had a panic attack and asks if I can sit in the office while assembly is on and that he'll come and get me when it's finished. Without asking a single question, the nurse, Mrs Knotts, accepts, knowing that I have an anxiety disorder. I grab my art folder, walk into the office, and take a seat. I'm the only one in here.

"Do you have any candy he can suck on? The sugar will help him. Preferably ginger because he threw up and it would help his stomach," Alex asks Mrs Knotts from outside the room.

"Not ginger, but I do have lemon," She responds. I can hear her opening a drawer.

"Lemon's great. Make sure he drinks some water. Thank you," Alex mutters and then I hear the sound of him and Kenzie walking away to assembly. I can also hear the murmuring sound of them talking but I can't make out what they're saying.

Mrs Knotts enters the room and hands me the candy with a sympathetic smile, "Your, uh, boyfriend said this would help. Do you have any water?"

"I do," I reply hoarsely. "Thanks."

Mrs Knotts lets me listen to music as long as I'm wearing headphones. I don't think of much; I don't even think of Cami or anything that's just happened. I simply sit and wait, reading the leaflets stuck on the walls now and then for something to do. It's boring but it's better than being sat in assembly, surrounded by hundreds of people. In here is quiet and peaceful, the fragments of Cami's words aren't hanging thickly in the air anymore.

Quicker than I thought twenty minutes would go by, my boyfriend returns and we go home.

I'm grateful that we walked to school this morning—not together, though, as Alex had to go in early for a morning detention and I had hardly even gotten out of bed. Now I don't care if we're seen walking home together. I don't care what people know or what people say. All that matters is what I think of my relationship. I'm going to wear it proudly like a badge.

Fuck you, Camilla Gomez.

Fuck anyone who doesn't accept this because this is mine. Alex is mine.

When we arrive home, we find that Camilla has already posted her keys to my house through the letterbox. I quickly close the door, shutting out all the negativity of a friend who doesn't care enough to try to accept my relationship. I don't need that. It's not good for me.

Alex makes me eat something since I didn't have one bite of my lunch and I threw up my breakfast. We get changed into comfortable clothes, I brush my teeth, and afterwards, we sit and watch a movie while we're cuddled up together on the couch.

Since Sofia graduated high school a month ago and has spent the past month at home, preparing for the baby, she joins us, cuddled into the other side of me as best as she can with her pregnant belly. Alex explains to her a watered down version of what happened at school and she's quick to comfort me.

By the time the doorbell rings at 4 o'clock, I'm back to my usual self; any glimpse of anxiety has been shedded off. Already knowing that it's Erica and Chloe at the door, I get up and open the door while Alex is in the bathroom.

I'm greeted by the sight of a happy looking girl. The first thing I notice is that she is wearing bright golden eyeshadow which pops against her dark skin. I think it looks gorgeous, and I assume that she's going out somewhere tonight as she's pretty dressed up.

In her arms is a little girl. Chloe. Chloe's face is burrowed in her mother's neck, so I take it she's shy. I can see her eyes, which are the same shade as Alex's. Well, to be honest, the more I look at her, the more I see Alex. The only difference in features is that she has caramel skin and curly hair.

"Hi!" Erica says joyfully. I can't help but smile widely back at her. I haven't even spoken to her and she already seems very friendly. "I assume that you're Matthew. I've heard quite a bit about you. Unless I've got the wrong house?"

"No, this is the right house," I assure her, "You must be Erica. Come in. I'll tell Alex that you're here. He's in the bathroom at the moment."

I open the door wider and Erica steps inside. In the hand which isn't busy holding Chloe to her is a car seat, and slung over her shoulder is a big bag which I guess has all of Chloe's things in. She places the bag and car seat on the floor, out of the way of where people are walking.

"I love your house; it's so aesthetic. So is the outside with all the flowers. And I love your accent too. From what Alex has told me, you're British, right?" Erica comments, looking around the entrance.

"Yeah, I am."

"If you think this is aesthetic, you should see Matty's room," Sofia announces as she walks out the living room and into the entrance hall. "Hi, I'm Sofia, Matthew's sister."

As they shake hands and get acquainted, I go to get Alex, who is already walking out of the downstairs toilet. His face breaks into a wide smile when he sees his daughter, who instantly outstretches her arms towards him, exclaiming, "Dada!"

Alex takes Chloe from Erica and kisses Erica on the cheek, which I didn't expect him to do. It's nice that they're still friends. I assume that it makes co-parenting a lot easier.

Soon after, Erica leaves. Alex grabs Chloe's bag and take it into the living room, where he puts her down and takes a couple of toys out the bag.

Chloe doesn't seem inherently interested in the toys or her new surroundings, and instead stares at Sofia. She toddles towards the couch where Sofia is sat and tries to lift herself onto it. With the help of Alex, she's on the couch next to my sister, placing her tiny little hands on Sofia's bump. She then looks up at Sofia with her big brown eyes and giggles.

"Do you think she can tell that there's a baby inside me?" Sofia asks, looking at Alex. Alex shrugs in response. Chloe then proceeds to lay her head on top of the bump.

My laugh snaps Chloes attention to me, where I'm sat on the floor next to Alex. She pulls away from Sofia and goes to get off the couch, but when she looks at how far away the floor is, she begins to look scared, so she outstretches her arms towards Alex, who helps her off. Next, she's rushing towards me.

"Hello, I'm Matthew," I say to her. I'm not sure why I tell her this, as she most likely has no idea what I am saying, but she beams up at me regardless. I suppose she's not so shy after all.

"Mafee," She babbles out as she crawls onto my lap. That is the most adorable thing a baby has ever said. My name. I feel special.

"She kind of already knows your name as I talk about you a lot and have shown her pictures of you," Alex says to me sheepishly. "I guess she recognises your face. That's why she's not so shy with you. She's probably not so shy with you either, Sofia, as I think she may be able to tell that you're pregnant. She's usually shy with people she doesn't know."

"You talk about me to her?"

"Of course, I do." He smiles, then turns to his daughter. "Can you tell Matthew your name?"

Chloe looks up at me, "Cwoee."

Alex then claps as a way of congratulating her, to which she copies as best as she can with her small, chubby hands.

Chloe grabs a toy from besides us and begins to play with it, all the while still on my lap. She babbles to herself while doing so. I can't help but notice the fact that Sofia's eyes are trained right onto Chloe, and I think that's because she's expecting a baby herself. I know she's been nervous about it, but it's good that we have experience with a baby because of Isaak.

"If you don't mind me asking, does Erica go to our school? I haven't seen her around," I ask Alex while Chloe continues to entertain herself with the toy.

"She's not. She graduated high school last year anyway," He says. I don't mean to be inquisitive but I can't help feeling curious. "I can tell you're interested. Do you want to know how it happened?"

"Only if you're comfortable with saying."

"Of course I am, gorgeous," He smiles. "She was the girl I lost my virginity to. It was March of freshmen year, so I was fifteen at the time. She was a junior—seventeen at the time. I was in the public library studying when she approached me. She could see that I was struggling on a particular subject so she asked if she could help me. I agreed so she did. We ultimately made an agreement that she would continue to help me with the subject, so the next time I saw her, she came to my house. We did a bit of tutoring and then she, like, suddenly kissed me, then she told me that she had taken a liking towards me. I thought it was awesome. She was this older girl and she was kissing me and when she wanted to take it further, I let it happen. At the time, I thought the whole thing was great. She didn't want me to use a condom and me being young and dumb, I was like 'whatever, I won't' and I forgot to pull out. So then I got her pregnant and she got incredibly pissed at me. She had no idea I was so young and said that I should have told her how old I was. She told me I ruined her life. I admit that it was my fault for not using protection and letting it happen, especially not letting her know that I was a freshman. We're juniors now. Thinking about sleeping with a freshman makes you cringe, right? I could never."

I pull a face at the thought. It does make me cringe.

"Anyway, 'cause she was two months premature, exactly a month after my sixteenth birthday, Chloe came along, and I love her to pieces. Erica and I are friends now. We thought it would be best as we have a child, and it's all worked out great. She apologised for how she acted and I apologised for not letting her know how old I was, and since then, we've been on great terms."

"Do you regret it at all?" Sofia questions.

"Not really. I wish I was older when Chloe was born but there's no point in regretting things that have already happened, you know? The deed has been done, and Erica and I have a daughter. There's nothing anyone can do to change that."

"Yeah." She sighs. There's something in the way she's looking down at her bump that I can't explain. But then she smiles and nods to herself, her hand coming to rub it. "Excuse me," Sofia says, and then she leaves the room.

Alex turns to me. "It was this, along with dealing with my feelings for you and my dad treating me like shit, that caused my fuck-boy phase. I thought sex would help how I felt so I fucked anyone that would let me, regardless of whether or not they were a man or a woman. It blocked the pain temporarily, sure. So did the drugs and alcohol that I was abusing. The more I took away pain and confusion temporarily, the less I would have to deal

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