Out of Breath (Breathing, #3)(43)

‘I wish you’d let me go with you,’ he said, lightly running his thumb along my cheek.

‘I know,’ I responded in a hush. ‘But I don’t even want to go back. I have to. Besides, you have to get ready for finals, and you can’t miss classes. It’s better this way. Sara will be there, so I’ll be fine.’

‘Will you call me?’

I nodded. He leaned in and brushed my lips with his.

I left them behind me, my face masked with a faint smile of assurance, trying to make them feel as if I were more held together than I was. Then I turned towards the entrance, walking through the electric doors, and panic swept through my stomach like a turbulent storm. I concentrated on breathing as I rolled through security, half expecting to be pulled aside for suspicious behaviour as beads of sweat spread across my forehead.

I sat in a chair facing the runway, uncertain how I was going to force myself onto the plane to fly to the one place in the world I’d never intended to return. I hadn’t set one foot in Weslyn since the day I’d fled two years ago, and I was on the verge of sprinting back out of the terminal to keep it that way when my phone rang.

‘Hi,’ I answered faintly.

‘How are you doing?’ Sara asked.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I know. Stupid question. I’ll be picking you up from the airport. I’ll help you get through this.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, wanting it to be over already. I’d kept myself busy contacting my professors to explain why I wouldn’t be in classes this week and arranging to make up the final exams later in the summer. I hadn’t stopped for a moment to think of anything – not until I stepped through the airport door, and the reality of what was happening became unavoidable.

‘Sara, I’m not staying in Weslyn.’

‘What? What do you mean? My parents are expecting you to stay at our house.’

‘I can’t.’ My voice was strained. ‘There’s a motel along the highway, right outside town. I’ll stay there. I really … can’t.’

‘Okay,’ Sara soothed patiently. ‘Just concentrate on getting on the plane. We’ll figure the rest out when I see you.’

The airline representative announced that they were about to start boarding.

‘I have to go,’ I told her. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘I’ll be here,’ Sara assured me.

I boarded the plane and tucked my carry-on in the bin above before taking the window seat, excusing myself past two middle-aged men dressed in business suits. I gazed blindly out the window as my breath shot out in short bursts.

‘Don’t like flying?’ the man next to me asked, eyeing my hands twisting around each other in my lap.

‘It’s more about the landing,’ I murmured honestly.

‘I fly all of the time,’ he assured me. ‘There’s nothing to worry about.’

I nodded, trying to push my lips into a smile, but failed to look anything other than terrified. I closed my eyes and clenched my hands into fists, willing myself to calm down. I was on the verge of a full-on panic attack.

‘You could use a drink,’ he observed with a slight chuckle.

‘Too bad I’m only nineteen.’

He eyed me like I was losing my mind. Which wasn’t far from the truth. ‘If you’re going to be like this the entire flight, I’ll buy you a drink.’

‘Sure,’ I responded, desperate to be rid of the anxiety.

Once we were in flight, the two men each ordered a vodka and soda while I requested a water. I was surprised when they both handed me their drinks. I guess I wasn’t the best flight companion.

‘Thanks,’ I responded, reaching for my wallet to pay them back.

The man beside me held up his hand, ‘Don’t worry about it.’

I sucked the drinks down with a frantic thirst and returned them to the gentlemen’s tray tables with the ice barely melted. They chuckled, and about an hour later, when I was still gripping the arm of the seat like I expected the plane to go down any minute, two more drinks were set in front of me.

‘Miss,’ I heard through the fog in my head. ‘Miss, we’ve landed.’ A hand gently touched my shoulder. I peeled my face off the window and looked around in confusion. It took me a few blinks to recognize where I was.

‘Shit.’ I sighed, making the flight attendant with the bright yellow hair raise her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Uh, thanks.’

I unbuckled and tried to concentrate on getting out of the seat without falling over, the vodka still dancing in my head. Thankfully the plane was practically empty, so I didn’t have to fight with passengers to get my luggage. I pulled it down from the overhead compartment and nearly knocked myself out when it hit the top of my head.

‘Can I help you with that?’ a male attendant offered, eyeing me nervously.

‘No, I got it,’ I insisted, flushing with embarrassment. ‘Thanks.’ I took a deep breath and rolled the suitcase after me, trying to convey some semblance of sobriety.

I continued up the jetway towards the terminal, pausing once because I was convinced my knees were going to buckle and I’d fall on my face. The buzz in my head was fading, and the panic was forcing itself to the surface. If I was going to make it through this airport without collapsing, then I needed a little help.