“Fuck,” I whispered.
Travis laughed quietly.
“There ya go,” he said again. “It’s all good.”
“Do you want this?” I heard Mayra ask.
I glanced up to see her handing Travis a glass of water. He handed it to me, and I took a sip and gave it back to him. It was kind of hard to swallow, and I wondered why my throat was so sore.
Shit, shit, shit.
There was really only one reason—I must have been screaming.
Shit, shit, shit.
I must have had a full-fledged panic attack with Mayra here.
Closing my eyes again, I put my hands over my face, which was already feeling warm to my touch. I was pretty sure I had never been more embarrassed in my life. Mayra had obviously called Travis, who then had to drive over here and pull me out of it. I wondered how much time had passed.
Glancing through my fingers at the digital numbers on the cable box, I saw that it was already after seven o’clock. The last Big Bang episode had just started before the phone rang, which meant it had been at least twenty minutes.
Shit, shit, shit.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled through my hands.
“Dude, shut up,” Travis muttered back. “You don’t have to apologize.”
I glanced at Mayra and then quickly looked back down again.
“You should probably go,” Travis said as he looked over his shoulder. “Thanks a lot for calling. I’ll make sure we get his car to him.”
“No!” I cried out, then immediately buried my head in my hands again.
“No what?” Travis asked.
“I don’t want my car!” I told him.
“That’s what he meant,” Mayra said. Her eyes grew wide. “He kept saying he didn’t want it back.”
Travis looked at Mayra and then back at me.
“Why don’t you want your car?”
I didn’t answer. It would just sound ridiculous if I did. He asked again, and I just shook my head.
“You gotta go back into therapy, dude,” Travis said with a big sigh. “You gotta go back on the meds.”
“Too expensive,” I said.
“Beth and I will pay for them.”
“You can’t afford it.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
I shook my head again. We went back and forth for a while, and I eventually won though I had to promise to at least talk to my doctor if I had another bad episode. Once I seemed to be together again, Mayra gathered up her stuff and started to leave.
“I’m sorry,” I said for the tenth time.
“It’s okay, Matthew,” Mayra said softly. “I’m just glad you are all right. You scared me.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I know,” she said. She tilted her head to look up at me. I moved my eyes away, focusing on her shoulder. “It’s too late to get your car now, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll see you in the morning, then?”
I felt my mouth turn up into a slight smile.
“Yeah, that would be good. Thanks.”
“See you then.”
The door closed behind her, and Travis leaned against the entryway to the kitchen and stared at me.
“This is certainly interesting,” he muttered.
I couldn’t really add anything to that comment, so I went and lay back down on the loveseat.
Travis tried to talk to me, but it wasn’t working, so he let me just kind of lie there for a while. The TV was on, but I wasn’t really watching it. I couldn’t even tell you what the show was. I didn’t really think about anything, either. Often when I’ve had a bad attack, I just feel kind of wiped out and empty afterwards.
Bethany showed up a while later and cooked dinner. I had no idea what we ate, but it was good, and I felt a little more human afterwards. I washed the dishes slowly while Travis and Bethany argued quietly in the living room. After a few minutes, Travis came back into the kitchen, all tight-lipped, and babbled something about needing to go grocery shopping. By the time I was done drying, he was gone, and it was just Bethany and me.
I had placed the final fork in the drawer and hung the little green hand towel over the handle of the oven before I looked up at my aunt. She stood and crossed her arms as she leaned against the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room.
“I thought this girl made you feel calm,” Beth said suddenly. “You look like you’ve been through a tornado.”
“It wasn’t her,” I said defensively.
“What was it, then?” Bethany pressed me for an answer. “Something with the car?”
“I don’t want it back,” I said, almost growling. I knew immediately that I made a mistake. Bethany’s eyes lit up like she hit some kind of jackpot, and there was no way she was going to let go of the topic until I told her everything. She was just too perceptive.
“You hated having to put it in the shop,” Bethany said. “Why the change of heart?”
I knew at that point that there was just no getting out of it. Besides, there was a grocery sack on the counter, which most likely held the ingredients to something delicious. So I told her about Mayra driving me to and from school and hanging out at the house afterwards. I told her about how we would sit on the couch, and she would touch my hair.
“You used to do that to Megan,” Bethany said. “Do you remember?”
“Do what?”
“She would lie down on the floor, and you would braid her hair,” Bethany said. “You were pretty young—maybe four or five—but you loved to braid her hair. You’d make a hundred of them all over her head and then take them all out again. Megan would just lie there and let you.”
“I don’t remember.”
“It was before Travis and I were married,” Bethany recalled aloud. “I’m sure of that. I don’t think Megan ever tried to do the same with your hair. She wouldn’t let anyone else do that to her, either.”
“I remember your wedding,” I said.
“I don’t see how you could.” Beth snorted. “You were in hiding throughout the whole ceremony!”
Flashes of Beth’s white dress and the itchy collar of the tux I had to wear as the ring bearer paraded between my ears. I never made it down the aisle—as soon as I saw all of those people, I hid underneath the pastor’s desk, and they couldn’t make me come out. Mom ended up missing most of the wedding.
“Want to go sit down in the family room?” Beth asked.
I nodded and followed her downstairs. When she got there, she dropped down on the left side of the loveseat, which made me cringe. It didn’t look right—not at all. Mayra was supposed to be sitting there or at least someone with brown hair, not blonde.
“What is it?” Beth said as she looked at me sideways. “I must be doing something wrong.”
“Mayra sits there,” I told her.
“And plays with your hair?”
“Yeah.”
“Then sit down with me,” she commanded.
I sighed and sat down next to Bethany. Flopping over sideways, I placed my head in her lap and tried not to tense up too much as her hand touched the top of my head. It didn’t feel like it did when Mayra touched my hair—not at all—but it wasn’t bad.
“Like this?” Beth asked.
It wasn’t, but I nodded anyway.
“We never continued our conversation,” she reminded me.
“I don’t think you ever really started it,” I told her.
Beth laughed.
“You are the one who said you didn’t know anything about sex and dating,” she said. “If that were the truth, how do you know if we have talked about it or not?”
Twisting my neck around to look up, I scowled at her. Bethany remained unfazed as she looked down at me with her eyebrow raised. I rolled my eyes and looked back toward the television. It was off now, but I stared at the blank screen anyway.
“Did you ever ask her to go to dinner?”
I shook my head.
/> “We were going to practice that.”
“I don’t want to,” I told her.
She scratched gently against my scalp.
“Of course you don’t want to,” she said. “No one wants to, but if you want to ask her out, how else are you going to get ready?”
“Maybe I won’t ask her out,” I said.
“You changed your mind?”
I shrugged again.
“You know I have a bag full of cupcakes up there,” Bethany said. “Red velvet cupcakes.”
“With cream cheese icing?”
“Yep.”
My gaze darted to hers briefly.
“Sprinkles?”
“The tiny dark red ones,” she said. “The kind that match the color of the cake.”
She didn’t play fair. At all.
“Fine.” I sighed. “It’s just that…everything is just right as it is now. If I get my car back, then there isn’t a reason for her to come over anymore. The same goes for asking her out. Right now, she’s here with me every day after school. What if I ask her out and she says no? She might get mad and not ever come over again. What if she says yes but then has a horrible time?”
“Have you kissed her?” Bethany asked.
“What?” I replied as I gathered myself again. “No!”
“Would you like to?”
“I…I…I don’t know.”
“Come on, Matthew.” Bethany continued to press for an answer. “Close your eyes for a minute.”
I scowled at her again.
“You want those cupcakes?”
I growled under my breath but did as she said.
“Now think about kissing her,” Bethany said quietly. “Just keep your eyes closed, and think about it.”
Her suggestion was enough to get my mind going.
In my head, Beth’s hands become Mayra’s, and she is here with me on the loveseat. I turn over and actually look into her deep brown eyes—keeping my focus on them for far longer than I really would be able to do. I sit up slowly, moving closer and closer to her until our lips touch. Hers are warm and soft, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.
My eyes fluttered open, and my tongue darted out over my lips. It was a little difficult to catch my breath.
“You want that to ever be reality?” my aunt asked, her tone still soft.
“Yes,” I whispered back.
“Then you have to start by asking her out.” Beth shifted in the seat, and I sat up next to her. “You have to take the first step, or you are going to be stuck where you are now with no chance of progress. This is just like when you moved from junior high to high school. Remember how much you didn’t want to go? But you couldn’t stay in eighth grade forever, could you?”
“No.”
“And you can’t just sit here day after day watching television with Mayra if you ever want a chance at something more.”
“I’m scared,” I admitted.
“I know you are, sweetie,” Bethany said with a gentle nod. “And you know what the awesome thing is? Everyone is scared about this. It’s not just you.”
I peeked at her sideways before I started rubbing at my thumbnails and twisting my fingers around. As I contemplated, Beth sat quietly and waited. She was right, and I knew it. I did want the chance at something else—something I never really considered with any girl, let alone someone like Mayra. If I had to take the next step and ask her out in order to have that possibility, I was going to do it.
I couldn’t bear the thought of stagnation, so I agreed to practice asking Mayra out on a date.
A half hour later, I lost it.
“This just isn’t going to work!” I yelled and stomped out of the family room. I turned abruptly and headed down the stairs to the basement. The heavy bag took the brunt of my anger, frustration, and disappointment in myself.
By the time I was done, my muscles were sore, and I was still a mess. The exertion had exhausted me but didn’t do much for my state of mind. On a plate for me, Bethany had a cupcake, which I ate in silence when I came back upstairs,.
“You want to try again?” she asked as I polished off a second one.
“No.”
“You know that isn’t going to fly with me.”
“If I can’t even ask you, how am I supposed to ask Mayra?” I mumbled. “Besides, there is absolutely no way she is going to say yes.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Seriously, Beth? I mean, I know you weren’t here earlier, but it’s not like you haven’t seen it before. Why would anyone agree to go out with me after watching me freak out? I’m a fucking mess!”
I pushed myself out of the chair and stalked off with no particular destination in mind. I ended up standing in the middle of the living room and staring out the window at the trees in the woods. The squirrels were back.
I hadn’t meant to blow up at Bethany. I knew she was trying to help, and I knew she just wanted what was best for me, but even she had to realize there wasn’t any hope. I was about as lost as a lost cause could get.
“Matthew, stop it.”
“Stop what?” I snapped.
“Stop beating yourself up,” she said. “I thought you had taken all that out on the punching bag.”
“Well, for as big of an idiot as I am, the bag isn’t nearly enough.”
“Matthew…”—my aunt sighed and flopped down on the couch—“you are far from being an idiot. As a matter of fact, very far from it. You also have a lot to offer a girl.”
I snorted.
“Yeah—instability and insanity. What a catch I am.”
Set sarcasm to kill.
“That’s enough!” Beth yelled loud enough to make me jump a little. I glanced over to her, and her face was bright red. “You are not unstable or insane, dammit! You have a mild form of an extremely common disorder that a lot of people live with day in and day out. You are smart, dedicated, sweet, and hot as hell! I can’t believe there aren’t dozens of girls asking you out!”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I furrowed my brow and looked away from her.
“I’m not,” she stated. “It’s probably highly inappropriate or something, but Matthew, you are an extremely attractive guy. Don’t you ever look in the mirror?”
“Of course,” I said, still frowning. “And what you are saying is still ridiculous.”
“It’s not.”
“Girls don’t look at me like that,” I said. “They don’t look at me at all.”
“For the love of God,” Bethany moaned. She stood up and headed out of the room. “Come on!”
I followed her down to the den where the computer was. She dropped herself onto the desk chair and pulled up Facebook. I watched her log in and scroll around until she came across a photograph from Christmas. Travis was standing by the tree and hanging up ornaments, and I was sitting at the foot of it with a string of lights in my hands, smiling up at the camera.
I couldn’t recall what Travis had said to make me laugh, but I did recall Bethany taking the picture when I wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t usually care to have my picture taken, and she had just called my name and snapped the picture before I could react. I didn’t like looking into the camera, so pictures usually came out with me looking like I was constipated or something.
“I wasn’t going to show you this,” Bethany said, “but you obviously have no clue, do you?”
“No clue about what?” I asked.
“Read this,” Beth said. She scooted the chair back so I could get a look at all of the comments listed under the picture.
Who is the guy on the floor?
Hot damn! That’s your nephew? Makes me wish I was twenty years younger!
OMG, what a hottie!
Whoa—do you have to lock him up at night?
I bet the girls in his school fail classes just watching him!
Send him over my way, please!
There were pages and pages of similar comments.
“If you had ever given girls a
chance to get to know you,” Bethany said softly from behind me, “and they found out how warm and caring you are, I don’t see how any of them could resist you. It’s very obvious Mayra cares about you, or she wouldn’t be spending all her free time over here, would she?”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. I scrolled back up and looked at the picture, trying to figure out what Bethany’s friends were talking about. It was just me. My hair was a mess like it always was. With the Christmas tree in the background, you could tell my eyes were green. I did look a little different from a lot of pictures of me but only because I was smiling and looking at the camera.
“Travis thought you’d be embarrassed if I showed this to you,” Beth said, “but I think at this point, you need to know. You’re a good-looking guy, Matthew. Any girl who says no to you would have to be blind and stupid.”
“Mayra’s not stupid,” I said defensively. “She’s really smart.”
“You’re making my point.”
I shook my head slowly and read a few more of the comments. They all had a pretty similar tone though knowing most of Bethany’s friends were thirty or so made me feel weird. I glanced over at her.
“You think she might say yes?” I asked.
“You won’t know unless you manage to ask her,” Bethany replied with a raised brow.
I couldn’t argue anymore, so I agreed to go back to practicing. The whole activity was incredibly stressful, and I went to bed with my stomach in knots.
There’s no way I’ll ever manage to ask Mayra out.
Lose.
Chapter 8—Sometimes You Just Have to Go for It
“Are you all right?” Mayra asked for the twelfth time that day. She slowed the car down to take the curve into my neighborhood as I tried to keep my heart from actually jumping out of my chest.
It had been like that all day. Every time I got near her, I could hear the words in my head that I had practiced with Bethany. I couldn’t say them, but they kept going through my head anyway. I took a deep breath and poked at the little scratchy fish-mark on the inside of the door, realizing at the same time that it had become a habit. Habits were dangerous for me, since once I started a pattern, I could almost never stop, but at least it was distracting me from the topic at hand.