Then Rye hesitated again when they got to Jake’s car, stopping at the rear door on the passenger side. And this time, his face had gone pale, and he seemed to have shrunken in on himself more, like he was trying to hide from something. Jake attempted another simple joke about his driving abilities, but Rye only looked even more ill.
Ill or terrified. Or maybe both.
“Hey, Rye, it’s going to be okay,” Jake said gently, leaning on the car to take some of the weight off his leg.
But Rye maybe didn’t believe him. He closed his eyes and shook his head, and then he backed up a step. And suddenly, Rye’s legs seemed to buckle, and he collapsed to the ground with a pained whimper.
“Shit,” Jake cursed as he pushed himself away from the car and hobbled around to the other side as quickly as he could.
Rye was sitting up, both hands on the ground and his legs folded underneath him. And he was wheezing, his eyes screwed shut. His face was as white as a sheet.
Jake stopped a few feet away and hesitated, not wanting to get down on the ground but also scared of whatever was going through Rye’s mind. He set one hand on the car and knelt down, ignoring the sharp, stabbing pain that lanced up his thigh.
“Hey, Rye, you’re okay. You’re okay.” He repeated the words several more times, keeping his voice low and gentle.
Eventually, after several minutes, Rye’s breathing calmed or at least stabilized somewhat. He didn’t open his eyes, though, and the tension in his posture remained, his fingers pressing into the ground.
“Okay, Rye. You’re okay,” Jake said one more time, and this time, Rye looked up at Jake. His red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks sent a shiver of sadness through Jake. “Are you scared?” he asked carefully.
Rye let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes again, his chin dropping to his chest. Then he nodded.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be scared. Can you tell me what you’re scared of?”
A huff of air escaped Rye’s lips, and he shook his head hard. Jake frowned inwardly.
“Alright, that’s okay. You know what my sister used to always tell me growing up?” Jake said, and when Rye glanced up at him again and shook his head, Jake smiled as encouragingly as he could. “She used to tell me that you can still do important things, even if you’re scared. You just... do it scared. I know that’s much easier to say than it is to do, but don’t forget that I’m going to be there with you. Whatever you’re scared of, I’ll be there to help you get through it. And if it’s my driving, well, really, I’mnota bad driver. You can call Kris and ask. She’d tell you the truth.”
Jake had no idea whether he’d said the right thing in his god-awful ramble or what it was Rye was actually scared of, but it was a huge relief when Rye took a deep breath and then looked at the car and nodded, his lower lip starting to tremble.
“S-sorry,” Rye stuttered.
“Ah, no, no. No need to be sorry. I just want you to know you’re not alone, okay? I won’t leave until you tell me it’s okay. And whatever you’re scared of, it’s okay to be scared. We’ll still get you home. I’m sure of it. Okay?”
Fresh tears fell down Rye’s cheeks, but he nodded then gathered himself and pushed himself up to his feet again.
Jake was a bit slower to stand, though he did his best to hide his pained grimaces from Rye. When he was up on his feet again, he brushed off his pants and then tilted his head toward the car. “Let’s go?”
Rye wiped his cheeks again and then hugged himself as he nodded.
“Great.”
Jake reached out and opened up the door to the front passenger seat, holding his breath as he watched Rye hesitate again. More tears slipped down Rye’s cheeks, and he glanced from the front seat to the back seat several times before taking a step toward Jake. He took another step and then another, and then hewas lowering himself into the seat, his face still pale and tears still falling. When his legs were both inside the car, Jake shut the door as carefully as he could. Yet Rye still flinched and screwed his eyes shut, then he buried his head in his hands, rocking himself forward and back ever so slightly.
God, of all the things Jake had worried about, getting Ryeintothe car definitely hadn’t been one. He frowned as he limped back around the front of the car to the driver’s side door, took an extra second to compose himself, and then climbed in.
Thankfully, the rest of their trip into town was fairly uneventful. Rye fumbled a bit with putting on his seat belt, and then, as soon as Jake started up the car, Rye pulled his feet up onto the seat, buried his face in his knees, and covered his head with his hands. And he stayed that way the entire ten-minute drive.
Jake was almost too preoccupied worrying about Rye to remember that his leg hurt and that driving when his leg hurt this much was kind of awful. He also didn’t pause to take a look at just how bad the damage to the road must have been when they passed by the newly paved part, but he did notice the orange traffic cones set up along the edge of the road and the caution sign indicating that roadwork was still ongoing.
Even when Jake pulled up into the tiny parking lot outside the small building that doubled as the police station and fire station and parked his car in the single empty parking spot next to Rachel’s pickup truck, Rye still didn’t lift his head up.
Jake turned the car off and unfastened his seat belt as he looked up toward the single-story building. The lights were on inside, which was good, and he figured Rachel was probably waiting for them.
He cleared his throat lightly. “Hey, Rye, we’re here,” he said softly. “Ready to go?”
Without the car running, Jake could hear Rye’s labored breathing, and he frowned as his stomach knotted up with worry. He felt so inadequate then, unable to do anything to comfort Rye, and he just sat there for another minute or two, waiting. Eventually, Rye let out a short breath and then lowered his hands down to grip his knees as he turned his head toward the building, sniffling.
“Rachel is a police officer. She’s really wonderful. I think you’ll like her,” Jake explained, hoping he was right. “Should we go meet her?”
