23. Macy

Chapter 23

Macy

O nce my mom goes to her room, I step into my sneakers and cross the distance between mine and Grayson's house. I send her a quick text. Going to a friend's house. My heart is drumming in my chest and I wipe my slick hands on my shorts. I try to tell myself it's from the conversation with my mom, but I can't deny what's happening any longer.

I was wrong before when I thought it felt like I was falling into a wishing well, hoping to find Grayson at the bottom. Falling is simple. You jump and eventually you land. This is different. It feels as though I've been pushed into that well, clawing at the walls with bloodied nails, fighting to never reach the bottom.

It's not the impact that I fear. The water will break my fall. It's not knowing what else lies in that water. How will I climb out? Will I find bottomless gold? Will I drown?

Fear is an angel in disguise, perched on our shoulder, whispering in our ear to keep us safe. We often judge fear, pick it apart and criticize it. We never ask fear "why?"

Why am I so scared to simply allow myself to fall?

It's simple really. I don't want to get hurt, and the way I feel for Grayson… The intensity will burn me alive if something goes wrong. Walter hurt me, that much is certain, but it was a mere sting in comparison to the catastrophe Grayson could leave me with.

This fear is loving. It wants me safe. But comfortability will only get me so far in life, and if I allow Fear's whisper to dictate everything I do then I'll never truly live. The thought alone is a nightmare.

And so, with shaky hands, I bring my fist to the door and tap ever so slightly. And maybe that's fear, deep down hoping he won't hear my knock so I can go home believing I tried. But he hears, and the door creeks open.