“There she is!” someone shouts.
“What the hell is going on?” a guy to my right asks.
Suddenly Cammie and I are surrounded, microphones shoved in our faces, cameras clicking incessantly.
“The fuck?” I grab for Cammie’s hand, panic taking over.
“Tallulah! Tallulah! Is it true you’ve been secretly dating Flip Madden for years?”
“Tallulah! Are your parents separated because of your relationship with one of the Terror players?”
“Is it true that Flip has been pursuing you since you were in high school?”
“Are you and Flip Madden also involved with Quinn Romero?”
Cammie steps in front of me, acting as a human shield. It would be more effective if she wasn’t a head shorter. She points at each of the reporters. “No, no, no, and maybe leave Quinn Romero out of your weird, incessant obsession with Flip Madden’s sex life.” She takes a step back, forcing me to do the same.
“Are you also involved with Flip and Tallulah?” a reporter asks her.
“Gandalf on a cracker.” I can practically hear Cammie rolling her eyes. “No, you creepy weirdo. I have my own hockey player.”
Mob mentality setting in like a bad psychology experiment as people pull their phones out and start recording.
“Go back inside,” Cammie orders as the reporters shout more questions.
I spin around and push back through the sea of bodies. People close in on me and real terror takes hold.What if I get trampled? What if I can’t reach safety?
“You’re okay. I’m right behind you!” Cammie shouts. “Get out of the way! Emergency!”
We push through the doors, back into the building. Cammie slips in front of me—the perks of being pocket-sized—and grabs my hand. She pulls me down the hall and ducks into one of the gender-neutral bathrooms locking the door behind us.
I slide down the wall and tuck my head between my knees. My head is spinning, and I can’t catch my breath.
“Hey, hey. I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re okay, Tally.” Cammie’s hands settle on my knees. “You’re having a panic attack. Just breathe, okay?”
I burst into tears, sucking in lungfuls of air between sobs, the adrenaline rocketing through me. Cammie sounds far away. A phone rings. I can’t take a full breath.
“She’s here with me. We’re in a bathroom. She’s safe. She can’t right now. Yeah, that’s her. No. No. That’s a really fucking bad idea. You cannot come here. I’ll share her location. I have a plan. I’ll get her off campus so you can come to her. I’m hanging up now so I can help her through this.”
Hands settle on my knees again. “Tallulah, I need you to look at me.”
“I can’t breathe,” I hiccup and sob again.
“Can you drink this?” Cammie holds out a bottle of water.
I shake my head.
“I’m really sorry for what I’m about to do.”
Cold water splashes my face.
I suck in a breath. “What the fuck?”
She blots my cheeks with paper towels. “I’m sorry. I needed to snap you out of it. You were in a spiral,” she explains. “I love you and promise that was less than ten percent backwash.”
I laugh and then start crying again.
“It’s okay.” She hugs me. “I’m going to call Chase, okay? We’re going to get you out of here and off campus.”
