The Secret (Boston's Best 1)

Chapter Forty-One

Maddie

I get woken up by the annoying shrill sound of my phone ringing.

I think about ignoring it for a second but then realise that it's past midnight so it must be important.

I roll over and unplug my phone to see Matt's name and face light up the screen. I sit up and answer the call, "Hey, Matt, are you okay? You don't usually call this late."

There's nothing but silence for a few moments and I say, "Matt? You there?"

I hear him blow out a shaky breath, "I–just stay on the phone please? So, I can at least pretend you're here."

"Okay." I whisper.

On the other side of the room Evelyn rolls over, "Mads? Is everything okay?"

I hold my hand to the speaker of the phone and whisper to her, "Yeah, it's fine. I'm just gonna step out for a second."

I crawl out of bed and put my slippers and a hoodie on and slip outside the dorm and lean against the wall outside.

We stayed like that for probably five minutes, me just sitting there listening to his ragged breaths and him making said ragged breaths. I don't know what happened but I'm going to assume it was pretty bad.

"Matt," I finally say, "What happened?"

"Ehm.." He coughs, "Can I come and see you?"

"Yeah, of course. Meet me outside of Liberty, there's a veranda outside and we can sit there. That okay?"

He's quiet for a second and then says he'll be there in a second.

I zip up my hoodie and walk down the steps of Liberty House and sit on the swing seat on the deck under the veranda.

About three minutes later Matt appears at the steps up to the house and I nearly gasp at the sight of him.

He's still in his jeans and shirt from the daytime even though it's two in the morning, the top maybe four buttons are undone, his hair is even more dishevelled than usual, his eyes look puffy like he's been crying, and his knuckles are bruised.

What the hell happened?

I stand up and walk over to him. "What happened to your hands? Are you okay?"

He audibly sighs when I near him and he pulls me into a hug. I wrap my arms around his waist and I feel his heart beating at what seems like over two hundred beats a minute.

Which only makes me further my assumption. "Matt," I question, "Have you ever had a panic attack before?"

His whole body goes rigid and he nods.

I take his hand and lead him to the swing seat and sit him down.

"Put your hands on your knees and hang your hand below your knees." I instruct him.

He does as I say and I kneel in front of him. "Close your eyes and only focus on your breathing. In and out. In and out for five seconds each time."

His breathing starts out rapid and shallow but after a minute it flows into a much more normal but still heavy pattern.

He looks up at me and we just stare at one another for a minute before he kisses my forehead and sits up straight running a hand through his hair.

I sit down beside him. "When was the last time you had an attack?"

"I was..." He thinks for a moment, "Just gone sixteen I think. I was just told that I'd be the captain of the football team starting my junior year and I freaked."