"I need you to stop." she hissed. I could hear her anger through the phone. I had just picked up her call, and I was startled.
"Wha-what's wrong? Stop what?" I spluttered.
"What do you think? Stop tweeting shit, Ethan!" Emma insisted.
"What? I'm just stirring the pot a little bit, we're agreeing on coming out little by little still, right?" I questioned.
"You're going too far. Stop stirring the pot. You're drawing attention to us." Emma said shortly.
"All the attention is on us already, Emma. Don't be oblivious."
"I don't want it that way," Emma explained.
"Yes, you do. You love the attention. It pays your rent," I said boldly.
"That may be true, but you are going too far," Emma repeated.
"Okay, okay, maybe the lips thing was a little too much," I admitted. "I'll fix it," I promised, already thinking of tweets to cover it up.
"Yes, you will fix it, and then something else will happen. And then it'll blow up in our faces. Is this all worth it? Really, in the long run?" Emma began rambling. Her words made my chest immediately tighten.
"Hey, let's talk about this, do you want to come over? I'll make you something." I offered desperately.
"You can't cook for shit, Ethan. And neither can I." Emma snapped. I had never talked to her when she was so irritable.
"Hey, seriously, are you okay? Did something happen that I don't know about?" I asked quietly.
"No, Ethan, nothing happened. Besides you being a dumbass, I don't know if you're aware,"
"Then. Why. Did. You. Like. It." I said bitingly, emphasizing each word.
"Like what?" she exclaimed.
"The tweet!" I said.
"Oh, God, Ethan, enough. We display a facade, you of all people should know that." she huffed. "I'm leaving for home tomorrow, and I think you should too. Maybe Cam will knock some sense into you."
"Cam isn't home," I said slowly.
"Then talk to your Dad, I don't know," Emma sighed. Her mentioning my dad made my chest constrict tighter.
"You can't just leave. We need to talk about this," I said.
"We can talk when I get back if this whole thing can go on," Emma continued.
"Are you trying to break up with me?" I said, cutting straight to the point.
"Ethan, no, I just feel like-" she started, sounding unsure.
"Ok, got it," I cut her off, and ended the call, dropping my head into my hands.
My heart was beating very fast as my head ran through everything going on. Emma, my Dad, Emma going to San Fran, me going to Jersey...
"E, do you want something from...are you okay?" Grayson's heavy footsteps prompted me to look up. I shot up into a standing position, and the movement made me take a sharp intake of air. I hadn't realized that I had been holding my breath.
"Jesus, Ethan, what's the matter with you?" Grayson muttered. Air wasn't entering my lungs properly, and I took several deep breaths to try and speed up the process.
The vice around my chest kept tightening, and I reached out for something to hold me up. I caught Grayson's arm, and he lowered us both to the ground. I was wheezing uncontrollably now, clutching at my chest which just refused to loosen.
"Don't, don't," Grayson coaxed, pushing my clawing hand away. "You're having a panic attack, just relax."
"Dad, Grayson, it's Dad...Emma, Emma is-" I gasped out, squirming under his grip. Grayson pulled me tighter towards him.
"Dad is fine, he's probably lying in bed with mom, right now, reading the back of a magazine...Emma is okay, she's at her apartment, safe and sound..." Grayson soothed.
"No-no, she's-" I huffed.
"Shhh, shhhh, deep breaths, Ethan, relax." Grayson continued. "1...2...3..."
And we counted out breaths for five minutes before my pulse had slowed, and I wasn't trembling, or sweating profusely.
"Are you good?" Grayson asked.
"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you," I said gruffly, trying to pull myself up.
"Nope, sit here for a little while. Tell me what happened." Grayson insisted, crossing his legs.
"Emma is trying to break up with me," I said quickly. "She told me to go to New Jersey because she's going back to San Francisco this week,"
"Okay..." Grayson said, nodding. "Then let's go."
"How could you-" I started, shocked at how he was normalizing this situation.
"You'll talk to her after. Jersey will be good for you. Pack a bag." Grayson said, with finality.
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