"I’m fine," she practically gasps.
"Listen, I’m not the brightest bulb in the drawer, but even I know you’re not fine.Because if this"—I wave my hand in a circle in her general direction—"is fine, then I don’t want to see not fine."
"I’m a little anxious.Trying to do some grounding so I don’t have a panic attack."
Panic attack?Why is she having a panic attack?What’s there to panic about?From the recesses of my brain, I remember a ClikClak I saw about this.For a while, I got a lot of videos about people with anxiety, probably because I thought their experiences were interesting.Now what was it they said to do?
Then I remember."Alexa, play I Gotta Feeling."Immediately, the rhythmic synthesizer beat begins pulsing through the sound system."Trust me on this and do what I tell you," I tell her.
Rachel is now staring at me.Her hands are opening up in her lap."The Black Eyed Peas?"
I nod, partially to her and to the beat.This song is a banger."Yup.The second repeat of the verse, your job is to sing all the ad-libs.Not the main part, but the extras that they yell in the background.I’m taking lead vocals."
"What are you talking about?"
I don’t care that she is having a panic attack.That’s not a problem.It will be a problem if she doesn’t know this song.I get that she might be sheltered, but not knowing the Black Eyed Peas would be extreme."Do you know this song or not?"
She nods.
"Okay then.From here on out, you are not to sing any of the main vocals.Just all the extras and background stuff they do.Got it?"
Another nod.I hear a soft "whoo hoo" at the right place.Then the verse comes.I sing the main part, and she chimes in with the random phrases.This time, my glance is met with a small smile.As the song picks up, we are both singing, much louder than is acceptable for the general public, but totally perfect for a car concert.
After almost five minutes of bouncing and dancing and yelling, Rachel ends with a closing "Whoo hoo" and sags back into her seat.
"You good, or do we need to do it again?"
"I’m good.Where did you come up with that?"She sounds a little breathless.
"Saw a ClikClak about using that for anxiety.I thought it might be good because sometimes I get a little too in my head before games.I put it on my playlist."
"ClikClak, huh?Is that your go-to for advice?"
Bobbing my head up and down, I reply, "Of course.Where else am I supposed to find out how to remove a beehive or snake a drain or frost a cake?It’s all there."
"That’s not what you post, though."
"I post the things that will gain views to make money.I won’t be able to play soccer forever, and I’m not good at anything else.The monetization is crazy."As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could pull them back in.One thing my dad has told me over and over and over again is not to talk about money with anyone.Shit.
"Yeah, I run an account for my grandfather’s business.It’s a niche world, but it makes a nice little extra income.I’ve funded many a Target run through my monetization."
My body sags back into the seat.She gets it.I’m about to reply when she hurriedly adds, "I tried putting the money back into the company, but Gramps won’t let me.He says the increased work generated from my videos is enough, and that I should consider my video money as a company bonus.If I want more money, I make more content to get more views.Of course, keeping the algorithm happy with a constant stream of videos is work in and of itself."
This girl understands my life.I feel something in my chest lift and expand."Tell me about it.And then you spend more time on the app, and then you get consumed with what you’re going to post.Next thing you know, you’ve been scrolling for hours and it’s after two in the morning."
"Um, well, I’ve not really had that experience with ClikClak.I pretty much post my videos and turn it off."
Oh.Yeah, totally misread that one.Typical for me.That balloon feeling deflates.I can practically hear it going "Pffffttttt" from inside me.
"I mean," she continues, "I’ve had that happen with books, though.I’ve stayed up reading almost all night on more than one occasion.I’ll forget I need sleep."
"Never have I ever read a book that made me forget I need sleep."Mostly because I don’t read, but she doesn’t need to know that.
"You don’t know what you’re missing.There’s no better way to escape from reality than in the pages of a book."
I consider her words.Maybe I should give reading a try.
Chapter 17: Rachel
