Chapter 9

Gina and I spent the next day at the beach, enjoying the weather and each other's company. We didn't talk about guys or my parents. I didn't mention my nightmare, Crew coming to my room to check on me, or me sending him away. We talked about school and traveling and music. And, we laughed—which I desperately needed. Gina was someone who exuded happiness and positive energy, and, currently, that's all I needed to be surrounded by.

Once I knew that Crew would be gone for his game, I said goodbye to Gina and went back to my house. As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I regretted it.

"I'm heading to Boston for the weekend," my father said from his spot at the sink.

I grabbed a water from the refrigerator. "And?"

"I just thought you'd want to know."

I closed the refrigerator and began to walk away. "Nope."

"Careful, Peyton," he warned.

I stopped and spun around.

"You may just get what you wish for and end up alone."

"Unlike you, I don't need other people to make me happy." I stormed off, feeling my heartbeat slamming in my chest.

Once I entered the guest room, I dropped down onto the edge of the bed with shaking hands and beads of sweat along my hairline.

Dammit.

Why did I let him get to me?

These interactions were doing a number on my mental health. I knew why my mother wanted me there, but maybe I couldn't handle it. Because the nightmare this morning, and my body's reaction right now, told me this was just the beginning.

* * *

Loud music outside woke me from a sound sleep. I checked my phone and it was nearing midnight. I sat up and threw my legs out from under my covers. I crept to the window and found a patio filled with people.

What the hell?

Girls and guys jumped into the pool, laughing and splashing around like they were at some Spring Break pool party.

That son of a bitch was throwing a party at my house.

I tugged on shorts and marched downstairs, unable to believe he'd think throwing a party was okay.

"Hey," Sam said as soon as I stepped outside.

"Why are you here?" I asked, my eyes taking in the thirty to forty people taking over my patio and pool.

"Hello to you too," he said.

I shook my head. "Sorry. I just meant, why is Crew throwing a party?"

"He said your dad's out of town. I kinda wish he was here so I could meet him."

I ground my teeth together. "Where's Crew?"

Sam looked around until he spotted him, then pointed toward a chair by the pool house "Oh, he's with CC."

My head whipped around, my eyes narrowing when I spotted him sitting there with a bikini-clad CC in his lap. God, could he get any more predictable?

"Hey, great party," a guy said as he passed by me.

"I wouldn't know," I clipped.

A group of guys and girls cheering around the table drew my attention. There was a guy and girl on each end of the table. One of the girls rolled a pair of dice. She and her partner dropped their heads back in frustration as their opponents bumped fists when they saw the dice.

"Strip!" someone called.

They all cheered as the girl pulled off her bikini top and the guy dropped his bathing trunks. They bolted toward the pool and jumped in.

Sam laughed. "I'm gonna get a drink. You want one?"

I shook my head, and Sam took off for one of the coolers. I looked back to where Crew was, wanting him to shut the party down. But he'd disappeared.

"Everybody in the pool!" someone yelled.

Half the party took off for the pool and jumped in.

Arms grasped me around my waist from behind. I struggled to get free, but I was pulled to the pool. I held my breath at the last second before we plunged under water. Only then, did I finally pull free and surface. I looked to the guy who'd pulled me in and shoved him. "Idiot!"

"Whoa. They said, ‘Everyone in,'" he argued.

"Did I look like I wanted to go in?!"

He looked at me like I was crazy. But who pulled someone into the water who wasn't even in a bathing suit?

I climbed out of the pool and grabbed a towel from a pile on a chair. I wrapped it around me and began to move toward the back door.

"Is your dad here?"

I looked beside me to the girl in a tiny red bikini who'd asked the question. "Excuse me?"

"Your dad. Is he here?" She looked around as if she'd actually find him hanging out at a party filled with college kids.

"No."

"Too bad. For an older guy, he's so freakin' hot," she said.

My heart began to race.

"Is he into younger girls?"

Sweat beaded on my forehead. "He's married," I said, though my words sounded as if they were in a fishbowl.

"Doesn't mean he wouldn't want me," she said like she wasn't talking about my father.

My hands began to tingle. "You know what? You're probably right." I spun away from her, suddenly unable to catch my breath. It was as if an imaginary weight was pressed against my chest. I rushed inside the house, frantically reaching the kitchen sink and bracing my hands on it. I needed to catch my breath, but I was seconds away from passing out. I moved unsteadily away from the sink and to the island, pushing aside a stool and sitting on the floor beneath it. I tucked up my knees as I tried to even my breathing, but my chest tightening around my racing heart prevented me from focusing.

Breathe, Peyton. Just breathe.

"Peyton?" Crew called.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words just wouldn't come out. My head began to swim. I focused on my breathing. In and out. In and out.

Crew's footsteps padded upstairs. Doors opened and closed. His footsteps padded back downstairs and moved closer until his legs were in front of me. He crouched down and found me under the island. "What are you doing down there?"

I shook my head, unable to verbalize what was happening.

His eyes widened. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, the words still stuck inside of me.

"Jesus Christ, Peyton." He kneeled in front of me and grasped my hands. I couldn't even feel his hands as mine had become numb. "You're having a panic attack. Just breathe."

I closed my eyes and focused on breathing.

"Has this happened before?"

I nodded.

"Okay, well just focus on your breathing. It will pass. You're safe. I'm here with you. I'm not going anywhere," he assured me.

In the past, if I just focused on my breathing it would eventually even out. But this time, the weight on my chest was suffocating.

We sat like that for a long time. The sounds of laughter and splashing outside began to dissipate. And, with time, my heartbeat began to slow.

"How often does this happen?" he asked.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"What triggers it."

He didn't respond, and I assumed he was trying to figure out what had done it.

If I had to guess, it was the combination of my nightmare, the run-in with my father, and that girl sounding very much like a desperate groupie who preyed on players.

"My mom gets them too," Crew admitted.

"What causes hers?"

He shrugged. "Life."

I considered what my life would be like if the episodes didn't pass and happened anytime I got stressed or overwhelmed. I wouldn't be able to handle that.

"I should've asked if I could invite some people over," he said.

"It's your house too."

"Yeah, but…"

"You wanted to piss me off?"

He shrugged, but I knew it was the truth.

"I'm sorry I was a bitch yesterday." I tucked a wet clump of hair behind my ear noticing the numbness in my hand had almost worn off.

"I'm sure you had a good reason."

I pushed myself to my knees. "People are probably looking for you."

"I don't care."

I moved out from under the island and stood up. My legs were jelly, but I was pretty sure I could make it upstairs without an issue.

Crew stood up beside me. "Are you good?"

"Yeah. I'm just gonna head upstairs."

"You want some help?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine."

His lips pulled to the side, and I could tell he was debating whether or not to leave me alone.

"I'm fine," I assured him. "It wasn't the first and it certainly won't be the last. I've gotta learn to deal." I didn't wait for him to respond. I left him and went upstairs to the guest room. I pulled off the wet clothes and slipped on some dry ones. I climbed under the covers, trying to forget this day ever happened.

"Everyone out!" Crew shouted outside. "Party's over."

People groaned and footsteps scampered around. Car engines started in the front yard. And, before long, all I could hear were the ocean waves crashing and Crew moving patio furniture back to where it belonged.

Sometime after I'd fallen asleep, I heard the door open and footsteps neared my bed. I wanted to tell him to stop. But as he lifted the sheets and slipped into the bed behind me, I said nothing.

"Are you okay?" Crew whispered.

"I'm not a delicate flower you need to look after," I said, a little harsher than I should've.

"I never said you were."

Twice he'd come to my rescue. Twice he'd seen me weak. I needed to gain my footing again. That's why all of this was happening in the first place. Everything felt so out of my control. My world was spiraling and nothing I did or said seemed to have the ability to stop it.

"My mom takes medication for hers," he said.

"I don't need it."

"Well, if you're ever alone and—"

"I said, ‘I don't need it.'"

A long stretch of silence passed, and I hoped he was done talking for the night. My mind was mush, and my body was spent.

"Sam was looking for you," he said.

"Did you tell him…"

"I said you went to bed," he assured me.

I closed my eyes and exhaled. At least he wasn't telling everyone my business.

"I think he was bummed you didn't show up to the game," he continued.

"I'm sure he didn't care."

"Oh, come on. You've gotta see that the guy likes you."

"We're friends," I assured him.

"Right."

Normally, I'd argue, but all my energy had been depleted from the panic attack. "He knows I don't date baseball players."

"If you say so."

He didn't believe me? "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous."

"Maybe I am," he said.

I rolled my eyes. Players didn't get jealous. Players made people jealous. And then they stomped on their hearts.

"I missed sleeping next to you last night," he continued.

"Oh, that was a good one. I can see how groupies would fall for your lines."

"It wasn't a line," Crew assured me.

"Uh huh," I said.

He didn't respond. Neither did I. We were getting good at leaving the other with something to think about. I may have thought about it…until I fell asleep.