Walk the Line

2 - The One Where He's the Only One Able to Calm Her

2 – The Time He's the Only One Able to Calm Her

I loved my big family, even if they didn't always understand me or why my things had to be just so. They didn't understand how stressful it was to live with six other people that casually messed up the order of things. It might not be a big deal to them, but it was to me.

They didn't always get why I couldn't say my own order at a restaurant without wanting to cry. They didn't understand why I had to worry and check over my homework three times before I turned it in and make sure I still had it in the morning. They didn't always understand why I had trouble sleeping to the point that I'd be up until three in the morning staring at the ceiling, begging sleep to take me prisoner. They didn't understand why I was so self conscious about myself to a fault, to the point that I couldn't wear what I liked in fear of being judged. They didn't understand why I was like this. And I didn't either. But it was exhausting.

I'd been in my English class all of five minutes when Mr. Hamish announced our new poetry project for the next few weeks. I wasn't a huge fan of poetry. I'd been starting to enjoy it recently, which is really saying something because I used to despise the form of writing with its concise format and confusing rhythms.

"You will be doing presentations of your topics two weeks from today in front of the whole class," he announced.

I didn't hear what he said after that, all I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears and gasp as my lungs refused to let air in. I needed to get out of here. I stood up and left the class, struggling to breathe and trying not to attract any unwanted attention. I made it to the hallway, panic eating at me. I stumbled to the women's restroom before finding myself on the ground, trying to breathe shallow breaths to keep me alive. Tears streamed down my face. I was scared and that made it worse.

"Eleanor? Are you okay? I'm going to go get Kyle, okay?" a girl asked, coming into the bathroom. I think her name is Blythe, but I wasn't sure. She was older than me, but I didn't have it in me to reply to her. I just sat on the ground and cried as my body fought against me. I couldn't breathe.

"Eleanor?" a deep voice yelled into the bathroom. I looked up to see Ford with a scared Blythe behind him.

"I'll get her to the hallway if you can carry her to the nurse's office--," Blythe's voice said calmly, "She's in the women's bathroom. I'm sorry to bother you, I couldn't find Kyle."

"I don't give a fuck if it's the women's restroom," Ford cussed, barging into the bathroom. I didn't want him to see me like this. I tried calming myself down but it just made it worse.

"Eleanor," he said softly, "Hey, it's okay." He bent down to me and I tried to wipe the tears from my face.

"Just think about breathing," he said, wrapping his arms around me, and pulling me to my feet. He wrapped me in a hug and I buried my face into his chest. He took deep, calm breaths as he rubbed my back soothingly.

"It's just a panic attack," he said softy, "I know it's scary, but you're going to be fine. I've got you. Match my breaths." I tried to breathe with the same breaths that he took, and slowly I felt my heart rate slow to a semi-normal pace, and the tightness in my chest wasn't so tight.

"See, you're good," he said, pulling away from his hug, and looking at me. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and escorted me out of the hall.

"What class were you in?" he asked.

"English," I sighed. He nodded and stopped at Mr. Hamish's door. He knocked, and whispered something to Mr. Hamish before entering the classroom and leaving me in the hall. Ford came out a few seconds later, carrying my book bag on his back.

"I'm going to take you home," he said.

"No--," I started.

"It's fine, Eleanor. I've got you."