But maybe he’d been right.
My spirits lifted slightly duringEscapewith Tristan. When I met him on the back lawn, he took one look at me and eased me onto a seat under the covered patio.
As he explained theFreezeresponse, how the body becomes immobile, often to be less noticeable to a threat or assess a situation, I pictured myself.
Standing in the Round Tableau.
Lying on the table in the poker room. Unmoving.
“You go still.” I nodded, filling in what I’d experienced. “Freeze in place until it feels like the danger has passed.”
“It’s more than just going still, though. The person experiencing it often wants to move but can’t. They feel unable to, and it can come with a sense of being numb.”
“Sounds terrible,” I said dryly. “So, it’s like when someone says something completely unexpected, and you just stand there like you aren’t crushed, right?”
“Yes…” he hedged, assessing me out of the corner of his eye.
“You want to run, but you can’t move. You just struggle to breathe and lock up your emotions?”
Realizing I spoke from experience, maybe even guessing which one, he cocked his head. “You want to talk about it?”
“No,” I blurted. Then I shook my head with a sardonic laugh. “As far as surprises go, it sucked. But I got through it. We’re fine. End of story, right?”
I didn’t bother giving him the play-by-play with Max since we were still stuck atit sucked.
Tristan’s lopsided smile assured me he had opinions on my approach to healing old wounds, but thankfully, he kept them to himself. “I have an idea. How about we enjoy this lesson down by the lake with some of Miss Alice’s homemade ice cream? How would that be for aFreezeresponse?”
I laughed, unable to help myself. “That sounds perfect.”
After following him to the kitchens, we sat out by the lake talking about ice cream, Izzy, and his plans for law school. I thought of what he’d said during our session in the woods.
I nudged him with my elbow.“I see why she likes you, too.”
His warm smile brightened. “She has excellent taste, that Izzy Gold.” He held up his ice cream between us, nodding at the cone in my hand. “Cheers to being the chosen ones.”
“Cheers.” I tapped my ice cream against his. “So, what’s on the agenda tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow, we’ll cover theFawnresponse, people-pleasing to de-escalate a threat.”
“Oh, joy!”
The idea of appeasing anyone, or trying to win over an aggressor to gain safety, was hard to imagine. But since I didn’t make up the rules for this confusing hodgepodge of trials and challenges known as The Quest, I’d have to hear him out.
I doubted it would help me get answers or figure out how to get through to Max. But who knew?
Maybe it’d come in handy one day.
As I headed to my next lesson, I walked by the garages to try locating the gym again.
On my way, I passed the shed where Kingston kept his motorcycle. The door was open, and the headlight appeared as the bike was pushed through the doors.
“Kingston?”
Morty popped out instead.
That shouldn’t have surprised me, but I jumped. “Hey! What are you doing with Kingston’s bike?”
“Special permission to go off campus.” He pushed the bike onto the grass. “Want a ride?”
