CHAPTER 1
Logan
Why couldn’t I get out of my fucking truck? The sweat formed on my temples long before I pulled into the parking lot of the complex. Once I parked, I realized the back of my shirt clung to me under my coat. Ripping off my seatbelt, I tore my coat from my body and threw it behind me on top of the bags and boxes that filled the second row. I gripped the steering wheel tight, the anxiety building the longer I sat there staring at the townhouse ahead of me through my windshield.
Number 1514.
Ty texted me the address last night. I left ahead of my parents by thirty minutes so I’d have time here alone to, well, deal with what I was dealing with at the moment. The chances of me having one of these hitting me at this moment were high, very high, just like my therapist warned. I didn’t want to believe her, though, hoping I was in control of my thoughts and emotions enough to ward it off.
But the panic attack was setting in, nonetheless.
My breaths were quick but at the same time hard to come by. As if my lungs were begging my brain to allow me to breathe. My stomach churned at the thought of stepping out of my truck, the knots coiling up tighter and tighter as the minutes passed. Looking around, I confirmed there was no one nearby to witness the almost breakdown that was about to happen in this driver’s seat. Throwing my head against the headrest, I forced the air from my chest with a deep groan, the sound bouncing around the cab. My eyes searched for something to focus on, to distract me.
It was a strategy that seemed to help.
There was a small frog statue in the tiny patch of grass in front of the townhouse that my eyes latched onto, its glass eyes seeming to stare back at me. He was cute. There were some lichens growing on him from being outside for so long, but it added to his appeal. It seemed to change his color from the blue tint of the cement he was made of, to a greener shade to make him seem more lifelike.
And he was actually smiling. I don’t know why I found that funny, but I did.
My breathing started to level off. As I scrubbed my face with both hands, I felt as though I’d thwarted the worst of it this time.
A success.
Well, I’d like to count it as a success, even though I had a panic attack before getting out of the car. Stopping it as quickly as I did was a success.
Turning my attention back to the townhouse in front of me, it looked empty. There weren’t any lights on, and the front door was closed. No one was supposed to be here; that was intentional on my part. Making sure I would be the first to move in at the start of the semester was important to me.
More than important.
It was necessary.
If I had to move back to school before meeting some of my new roommates for the first time…
Well, I had to get here first. I needed to be here and settled long before anyone else was. The sheer fact that I was living with three girls was stressful enough. Throw in that I’d never met two of them and I was completely terrified.
Most guys my age would probably think I was in a pretty good situation, having three female roommates. However, considering my history freshman year here at Blue Ridge University, it was not the perfect setup for me.
Thankfully, Becca was one of the three girls I’d be living with, and I considered her to be one of my best friends. Her boyfriend, Ty,wasmy best friend. Those were two perks I was hanging on to in hopes it would make this whole situation more tolerable.
As I looked back at the building in front of me, so many thoughts raced through my head.
Would I be strong enough to be here and not drink?
Was I ready to be here, surrounded by that temptation?
Could I live with all girls?
Would I be able to continue my sessions with my therapist?
Was I ready to see Lanie? With Xander? After all this time…
The knock on my window caused me to jump so high I hit my head on the ceiling of my truck. “Fuck!” Looking over, I saw my dad, well, my stepdad, Matt, shivering outside, and I rolled down the window.
“You OK, buddy?” I couldn’t tell if the shakiness in his voice came more from how cold he was from being outside without a coat or that he was obviously as nervous as I was about my return to school.
The fact that I was still sitting in my truck by the time he and my mom arrived was concerning. The past thirty minutes were gone, and my sweaty shirt and speeding heart were all I had to show for it.
And I think he could tell.
