She says it all really fast, like it’s the only way she can get it out. “I fell to the ground. My vision was blurring and coming in and out of focus. My chest hurt. I swear my heart was going to explode. Someone called an ambulance, and after all these tests and stuff, they just said I had a panic attack.”
She scoffs, her upper lip curling in disgust. “They said it was nothing, and that I was fine and I should get over it. So I went back to class—well, I tried to—but every time I step outside, the panic attack would come back.”
“Wow.”
She nods. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. Doctors are no help. It was the start of my freshman year, so I didn’t really have many friends, and the girls I did hang out with just quit talking to me. My old roommate complained that I was annoying her because I spent like three weeks crying and panicking about the idea of having another panic attack in our room. They ended up moving me to the staff dorms so I could be alone. And this is where I’ve been ever since.”
My eyes widen. “You haven’t left this dorm in three years?”
I swear, if my cousin gnaws on her bottom lip for much longer, it’s going to fall right off. She nods. “Not really. I’ve been to the doctor a few times, but… I just stay. My panic attacks stopped once I quit leaving. I feel safe here.”
“You haven’t left in three years,” I repeat, more to myself than to her. “This isn’t normal.”
“I know,” she says with a snort. “Trust me, I know. I hate it, but I also don’t mind it. I get to stay here where it’s safe and I feel fine.”
Suddenly the stuck door lock makes sense. It’s gotten all rusted over from the outside since it’s never used.
“No, it’s not okay.” I stand up and reach for her hand. “I’m going to help you. Let’s go outside.”
“No!” She shrinks back, pulling her hands close to her body. “I’m not leaving. Don’t even joke about that.”
“You have to leave sometime,” I say, glancing toward the door. “You will graduate this year and then what? They won’t let you live here forever.”
She shrugs. “Maybe they will. Dean Thomas is really nice.”
“They won’t,” I say.
“The staff dorms are mostly empty. They’ll probably forget that I’m even here. I could stay for decades.”
“You cannot be that delusional,” I say.
Her nostrils flare, and I know I’ve struck a chord. I probably shouldn’t have called her that.
Belle turns to her computer, focusing her attention on that instead of me. “I’m not talking about it anymore. You wanted the truth, and I told you the truth. Now let it go.”
“Fine.”
I go back to my side of the bed, leaving behind the scent of cinnamon and coffee from the candle on her nightstand. I might let it go for now, but I’m not letting it go forever. It’s kind of screwed up that my Aunt Kate just allows this. Belle needs help. A good therapist or something. She can’t just live at Shelfbrooke Academy forever.
“We can talk about you, if you want,” Belle says softly after enough time has passed that we’ve both settled down. “I don’t want to make you mad, I just really can’t talk about myself, okay?”
“Fine, let’s talk about me.”
I yank off my school uniform and toss it into my clothing hamper. “How do you know Declan?”
“Everyone knows him. He’s really nice. His family has worked here for like, ever.”
“As gardeners?” I say.
She nods.
“That’s probably how he can afford the tuition. I guess it’s like, kids of the employees get in free or something.”
“So why was he your pity partner?” she asks.
I really want to forget the whole day, but she just told me something majorly personal, so I return the favor. I tell her about my craptastic first day of school, and how he came over and saved me from not having a partner.
“How was it?” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Spending all class period with him?”
