He chuckled and walked past me toward the pool.“Yeah, you don’t need to look so pleased about that.”
I watched him, then decided to follow.“Is that so?”
“It’s real fucking so,” he replied.
“And why is it real fucking so?”I pushed.
He paused at the edge of the zero entry, then cut his eyes back at me, but said nothing.I watched him, waiting for a response, but he dropped his gaze to the water and bent down to feel it.
“Might even be warm enough tonight,” he said, standing back up.
Change of subject.Okay, fine.
“There won’t be time to swim if the games go until one again,” I replied.
“Ah, Pickles, where is your sense of adventure?Swimming in the middle of the night would be fun,” he drawled and faced me.The smile and lightheartedness were gone from his expression again.Whatever had been bothering him before when he came to my room was back.“I need to tell you something.”
There it was.This was about me.The darkness in his gaze—it did have to do with me.I’d known it in my gut.
“What?”I asked.
He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, and his shoulders slumped slightly.“I have something.I don’t know if you want to see it, but I want it to be your decision.”
“What?”My tone was slightly more frantic now.He was scaring me.
He squinted as the sun came from behind a cloud.“A video … of your parents’ funeral.”
My moment of the smallest ray of joy was snuffed out completely.They were buried.My parents, underground, where my mom wouldn’t feel the sunshine she’d loved so much again.Gone from me, with no goodbye.
The burning in my chest got intense, and I realized I was holding my breath.I tried to suck in some air, but I couldn’t.I couldn’t breathe.Bending over, I grabbed the front of my thighs, trying again to inhale.
He was there then, close to my ear.His hand was on my back.“Listen to my breathing.Try to breathe with me.Inhale.”His voice was low and soothing.When I heard his intake of air, I did the same.He blew it out, and I followed.“Good.Now let’s do it again.I’m here with you.You’re not alone.”
We went through the same process several more times.Whatever had been happening stopped.My lungs were no longer locked up inside my chest.The flow of oxygen wasn’t a struggle.
“I-I’m okay,” I whispered.
He didn’t move away.Instead, he slid his hand up my back and used it to pull my hair out of my face.“I’m sorry I told you like that.”His tone was raspy.
I shook my head.“No, it’s … there was no way to tell me that would have been easy.”I straightened back up, and he let my hair go sliding through his fingers.“Thanks,” I told him, meeting his gaze.“I don’t know what happened.”
There was a sad tug at the corner of his mouth.“Panic attack,” he said.“That your first one?”
I’d thought I had experienced one before, but if this was it, then that was definitely my first.I nodded.“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to watch it.But when or if you want to, it’s there.I’ll watch it with you.”
I’d thought there would be relief in knowing that their lives had been remembered and that their bodies had been laid to rest.Even if I hadn’t been there.That wasn’t the case.It was just another heavy sorrow I had to work through.
“I’m not ready … yet,” I admitted.
“What about ice cream?”
I frowned.“Ice cream?”
Where had that come from?Did he always change topics so rapidly?
He shrugged.“Yeah, ice cream.With toppings.We’ve got them all.Want to go make a ridiculously obnoxious bowl and eat it together?”
