There was a small rocky outcrop on the southern side of the property that nobody else ever went to. It was nothing special—the view it offered over the foothills wasn’t spectacular or anything. From the edge, Wyatt could only see a tree-covered hillside, a dirt road that cut through it, and the roof of a dilapidated shed that belonged to one of their neighbors. There were a hundred nicer views of the hills from every turn of the winding road that slowly climbed the hills from the Yucaipa Valley. But it was Wyatt’s special place, and he knew nobody would look for him here.
Wyatt sat on a wide sun-warmed rock and squeezed his eyes shut.
Breathe in for four. Hold it for seven. Breathe out for eight.
His hands were shaking, and he wanted to be sick.
In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.
He wondered if he should call Harper, and then almost laughed at the thought, imagining himself blubbering down the phone at her. He wondered if she’d still be able to do that thing she’d done when they were kids, where she’d somehow understood everything he wanted without him talking at all. That had probably been pretty easy back when he’d just wanted a juice box and a snack though. Not…notthis. Why would Harper know what he wanted, when Wyatt couldn’t even tell?
He was being stupid. He couldn’t live in his childhood bedroom forever. Not just because he was an anxious socially maladjustedfreak.
The word stung, even in his own mind, and a sob rose out of him as he struggled to control his breathing, struggled to damp down his panic. His eyes stung and hot tears slid down his face. He scrubbed at them angrily with his shaking hands.
Breathe in for four. Hold it for seven. Breathe out for eight.
Why did he have to be scared of everything? Why did he have to have days where he didn’t even know who he was? Why couldn’t he just benormal?
The sound of a dry twig snapping was as loud as a gunshot, and Wyatt spun around on his rock, his heart racing.
The guy was tall, dark-haired, tattooed and swaggering, a corner of his mouth already turned up in what looked like a sneer.
Izzy.
Wyatt slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent another sob escaping him, and shrank back, eyes wide, as Izzy took another step toward him.
