“Maybe not, but I’m here anyway.” He pauses briefly, as if choosing his words carefully. “You’re human, Alli. We all have our moments. It doesn’t make you weak.”
His presence beside me is a quiet anchor, and little by little, the stiffness in my chest loosens. He stalls, then lightly rests a hand on my back. We sit in silence, the rhythm of the waves drifting through the air. Slowly, my breathing calms, the frantic pulse of anxiety starting to recede.
Jared speaks first, breaking through the fog in my mind. “You’re doing fine, just keep breathing.”
I nod and lean my head on his shoulder, grateful for the quiet comfort.
Anxiety attacks started hitting me my freshman year, right after midterms. It felt like everything was closing in. Projects, term papers, trying to juggle a social life, and missing home more than I cared to admit. I couldn’t even come home a few times because I was too damn busy trying to keep up. It all piled up, and one day, I couldn’t breathe through it anymore.
I glance at Jared, and he gives me a small, hesitant smile. “You don’t have to explain,” he says quietly, his hand still resting on my back like a silent promise. “We can go when you’re ready.”
We sit in silence, the waves soothing my nerves. He lightly rubs my back around the same spot, and slowly, my anxiety fades into the background. Eventually, I lift my head.
“You ready to head back?”
“Yeah,” I say, forcing my voice to sound okay even though I’m a hundred percent not okay. “I think so.”
His presence at my side is quiet yet deeply comforting. We don’t say much, but the quietness feels comfortable, like we don’t need words to understand each other.
As we near my building, I glance at him. “Thanks again. For everything.”
He offers a genuine smile. “Anytime, Alli. Seriously.”
I watch him walk away, and I take a deep breath as he gives me one last smile. The anxiety still lingers, but it’s overshadowed by the comfort of someone who understands. I head inside, my thoughts calmer, my heart a little lighter, and my body a little sleepy.
Chapter 7
Jared
The smell of freshly brewed coffee hits me as soon as I walk into Study Brew café, instantly lifting my spirits. This place is my go-to spot for studying, catching up on assignments, or just getting a break from campus life. I scan the room, finding it packed with students hunched over laptops and textbooks. It’s the usual scene for a Sunday afternoon. I stroll to the counter, the faint sounds of conversation around me, and order my usual matcha latte.
As I wait for my coffee, my eyes land on Alli tucked in a corner booth, her head buried in a textbook, a half-empty cup of coffee at her side. Dark circles shadow her eyes, and I wonder if she’s still shaken from last night.
When my name is called, I grab my coffee, but before I can walk away, impulse takes over. I turn back to the barista and order something extra, not entirely sure why.
“Hey,” I say, placing the caramel latte down in front of her. “Working hard?”
Alli looks up, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “How’d you know I’m a caramel latte person?”
I slide into the seat across from her, setting my stuff down with a quiet thud before pulling out my books. “Junior year, you’d always come to class late but with a caramel latte in hand.”
“I needed my daily caffeine,” she says with a casual shrug, like it’s the most natural excuse in the world.
“Yeah, it was definitely your signature move.”
Alli’s worry eases as she brings the cup to her lips, taking a slow sip. “Thanks, Jared.”
“No problem,” I reply, feeling a hint of warmth rise to my cheeks. I quickly glance down at my notebook, pretending like it’s the most fascinating thing in the room. “So, what are you working on?”
“Just going over some anatomy notes,” she replies, gesturing to the textbook in front of her. “Trying to stay on top of things.”
“Same here,” I admit, flipping open to the chapter I need to review. My hands feel a little clammy, and I mentally curse myself for getting flustered. She’s just Alli, I remind myself. But today, she looks different, more relaxed, with a tender look in her eyes I never noticed before.
Every now and then, I sneak a glance at her. Her hair falls in gentle waves around her face, and she’s chewing on the end of her pen, lost in thought. I can’t help but think she’s pretty, ridiculously pretty. My heart skips a beat, and I look back down at my notebook, trying to refocus.
After a while, I stretch and take a break, sipping my matcha latte. “Any plans for the rest of the day?” I ask, keeping my voice casual, even though I’m secretly hoping for a little more time with her.
“Not really. Just more studying, I guess. You?”
