From The Other Side

33. exhale

THIRTY THREE
exhale

Friday, May 23rd

Isaiah was a whole new level of nervous. More so than when he'd first kissed August. More so than when he'd confronted Marcus months ago. He was nervous, and he wanted to back out, but he knew it was too late.

He'd been sitting outside his house for the past fifteen minutes, trying to give himself a mini pep talk. It wasn't working, and now he really wished he had August here to reassure him. But he couldn't rely on him to always make him feel better, so he inhaled deeply and slowly got out of the car.

His hand was shaking terribly as he attempted to unlock the door, and it took much longer than it should have, but he made it inside. He pressed his back against the door once he'd closed it, feeling his breathing stutter in his throat. He felt like his heart was trying to break free from its cage and run to safety.

His safety was at home, not here.

"Isaiah, baby? Is that you?" his mom's voice rang out, and Isaiah curled his hand into a fist, squeezing tightly.

"Y-Yeah," he replied, inwardly cursing at himself for the shake in his voice. God, this was overwhelming. He knew it would be difficult and nervewracking, but he didn't know it would be to this extent.

                  Isaiah could hear the smile in her voice when she said, "Come into the living room! Jordan told us you wanted to say something." Isaiah rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans and entered the room, sending a weak smile to his family. "Sit down, mijo."

                   "I-I think I'd rather stand," Isaiah admitted. If he sat down, his fidgeting would be more apparent.

                    "Is this baseball related?" Dad asked, both arms settled against the back of the couch. "Did you change your choice for college or something?"

                    "No, no," Isaiah replied, shaking his head. "That's... not it. Um." He looked over at Jordan, and when he did, she sent him a reassuring smile, hiding a thumbs up at her side. Isaiah relaxed just a bit, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

                     His nerves must've finally become obvious, because his dad furrowed his brows and his mom looked like she was ready to get up and hug him. His whole body was trembling; his skin on fire in the worst way possible. He was sweating profusely, felt like he was running out of air. I don't like this feeling at all. Fuck.

                 "Isaiah, honey," Mom cooed, frowning. "¿Que pasa, baby?"

                  That was enough to make his knees give out, and he dropped to the floor with a dull thump, hands gripping his knees. Mom immediately slid to the floor with him and gathered her son in her arms, holding his head to her chest, other hand rubbing his back lovingly. Isaiah started to cry.

                  "Hey, hey," she murmured, placing a kiss to the top of his head. "You're okay. Take your time, there's no rush. Breathe, mijo."

                   He sobbed against her shoulder, hands grasping onto her arm that was locked across his front. He rubbed his finger against her bracelet, trying so hard to calm himself down. But then his Dad was kneeling down on his other side, hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. It only made him cry harder.