I was feeling anxious. I hadn't slept well due to the imaginary conversations I kept having with my mother in my head. I had tried to think of everything she was going to say when I told her I was going full-time with my YouTube career and that New York was just a massive disappointment. I was trying to pluck up the courage to finally tell her that my dream turned into a nightmare and that I had no desire to ever move back to the city- but I think I ended up just keeping poor Jack awake next to me. 

He seems calm today, which I am thankful for. He seems to have dove headfirst into boyfriend duties and I am impressed. He doesn't seem to be doubting his decision to make me his girlfriend and I found myself not wanting to check his phone once yesterday. I'm starting to trust him, which scares the bejeezus out of me. That we are so far past just "friends" that we are at the point of no return. If we have a falling out now, we'll have to be erased from each other's lives. Our parking lot blow-up will look like a little tiff compared to what would happen if he decides he can't handle a relationship after all. 

I am also realizing that our relationship is not much different than our friendship was. Other than him not openly checking out women in front of me now and I am not just fantasizing from afar. Even yesterday felt like old times. Just having fun, laughing together, razzing each other and attempting to focus on the task at hand. We also weren't allowing the outside world to disturb us just yet. He was even able to help push Maggie from my mind for most of the evening. He made it a point to not let me linger on that drama which was fine because I couldn't think of anything else until this dinner was over. The dread of seeing my mother and sister has been weighing me down and even poppy, shoulder-bouncing music wasn't easing my anxiety like I thought it would. 

Jack is next to me, enduring my music choices with his left hand flopped out of the open window. His head is tipped back and his eyes are covered by his dark glasses but the corners of his lips sit in an easy smirk. I really think he is at ease heading to my parents. I find my body is still buzzing with anxiety and I try to channel some of Jack's calm energy. As Taylor Swift blatantly tells me that I need to calm down, Jack turns the volume down and asks, "Your parents know I am coming right?" 

I nod, "Yes, I said I was bringing a friend."

"A friend? You just left it at that?"

"My sister asked me to elaborate but I didn't. I didn't need her jumping to conclusions." Jack laughs and I flick my gaze over to him, "What?"

"You said you're bringing a friend. The only conclusion to jump to is a boyfriend." I shake off my irritation. I needed to give them a heads-up that I was bringing a guest, but I didn't know what to say without me having to explain everything through text. And what was I going to say? Oh yes, I am bringing the man I have been obsessed with for the past three years to dinner a month after I left my fiancé, but no, he had nothing to do with my decision to leave New York.  The thought of my sister and mom thinking Blake jumped ship because I was in love with someone else is not an option. I just don't know if they'll devour me because of Blake or because I dropped New York and my bakery job as well. My mother is not going to be happy that I am living with a man, getting paid off YouTube videos, and losing my job because of a petty tiff with my manager. 

I also need to ask my mom for money and I think that is what's making me so anxious. She doesn't do handouts and is never one to shy away from mentioning how much my training and schooling added up over the years. But I need a new laptop and camera and while Stella and Jack have been so generous, I can't rely on constantly asking for favors. I'm twenty-eight, not eighteen. I need to convince my mother that my life isn't as big a mess as it sounds but asking for money is not a great way to start. 

Suddenly the buzzing fills my entire body and my breath gets lodged in my throat. My hands shake and I can no longer focus on the road ahead of me. It feels like the buzzing is trying to physically claw its way out of my body and I might throw up. It's been years since I've had a full-blown panic attack and just thought of telling my mother the truth sent me into a spiral. I start waving spastically and I hear Jack ask, "Luce, what's wrong?" I claw at the seatbelt to move it away from my tightening chest and Jack makes a hard right into a neighborhood. 

"Are you having a panic attack?" I nod to him and he practically slams on the breaks in front of the first opening he can find on the side street. He turns to me but I am trying to get my seatbelt off. I desperately need fresh air. I push the door open and fall out of my seat onto the sidewalk that Jack half parked on. He jumps out of the driver's seat and comes to find me gasping for air, my hands pressed against my chest. 

"Lucy talk to me. Count to five. Deep breaths," he tells me rapidly while placing his hands on my shoulders. I shake my head at him unable to find my breath, but he forces me to look at him as he says, "Tell me how to make a mojito." 

"What?" I gasp out and he keeps his gaze on mine as he quickly says, "What is the first step when making a mojito." 

"Add mint leaves to the glass," I gasp out and he nods, "Okay and then what?" I then realize he's trying to distract my brain from its meltdown. Tears are streaming down my face but I can still feel my heart swell. He remembers what I told him years ago. That I need to distract my brain when I am in the middle of a panic attack. Divert my attention to something I know. I blink as I try to unfog my brain and imagine myself behind the bar at Mag's.

"Add honey and lime juice."

"Then what?" 

"Muddle the leaves."

"But..."

"Don't over-muddle." I laugh and I can feel my chest lightening up. I picture a glass in my hand, desperately trying to stay in the moment. 

"Good girl," he says with a smile, but his hands remain on my shoulders, "Then what?" I nod as I take a deep breath in. 

"Add rum."

"Which rum is best?"

"You say Bacardi, I say Havana Club."

"And you're wrong when you say that," he jokes and this time I am able to let out a laugh. I can't control the tears, but I can finally control my breathing. My buzzing has died down, my vision is returning to normal and I can feel my fingertips again. 

"What do you do after you add rum?" 

"I fill with ice and top with club soda," I answer and he nods. He must notice that I am coming down from my attack because he says, "Are you alright?"

I nod, "I think so." 

"Your face has color again," he says while swiping a finger across my cheek. He lets me take a few breaths and I shake my hands out. "Not to spin you up again, but can you tell me what spun you up?" He asks gently while rubbing his hands down my shoulders. "I thought you were gonna pass out there for a minute." 

"I thought I was going to puke...or shit." 

"Well thank you for jumping out of the car then. Although these people would have gotten quite the show," he gestures toward the open living room window directly behind us and if anyone was home, they would have seen and heard my freak out. 

"I'm sorry, I just was just thinking about how to tell my mom the truth." 

"The truth? About what?"

"That I need money. That I hated New York. That Blake was a mistake in more ways than one. She doesn't even know I despised dancing. I just keep finding ways to avoid talking to her about it because I don't know how to talk to her about it." 

"What makes it such a sensitive subject?" He asks and I take another deep breath. Jack and I have always kept our conversations light and fun when we'd work together or hang out. He knows the basics of my life but I've never really confided in him about my past. I don't really confide in many people. Stella is the only one who knows all of my shit and that's only because of our drunken nights when we cross the line from fun drunks to crying, miserable saps. 

"She never heard me when I tried to say I didn't want to dance anymore. She never really tried to understand my anxiety or the pressure I was under. She pretended to act as if she knew because of her musical background, but she had no idea the stress my body and mind went through. I mean, have you seen my feet? And the thought of me quitting was tied to her disappointment and I just didn't want to disappoint her. For some reason, she has this dream of me living large in New York, but I just can't picture it. I finally have to tell her that I never could." 

"Why are you so scared of her being disappointed in you? You're still her daughter. She'll love you even if you tell her you never want to go back to New York." 

I shake my head, "She won't understand why I want to make Phoenix my home. She'll think I wasted all of my opportunities. And then telling her that all my shit was stolen because I was living in an unsafe place..." Jack sighs and finally drops his hands from my shoulders. 

"Kinda ironic that you never got your shit broken into in New York, but you did in Phoenix having only been back for two weeks." 

"Yeah, leave that little tidbit out when I talk to my mother. That will just be another strike against Phoenix." He tilts his head to the side and I hate the pity that takes over his face. I force myself to look away from him, but I know he's wondering why I desperately want my mommy to approve. He doesn't understand how Lauren and I have always been pitted against each other and that I need to tell her I am taking myself out of the fight. It's killing me to admit that Lauren won the title of the best life and daughter. 

I take another deep breath and run my fingers under my eyes to wipe away my smeared eyeliner. I use my hands to fan my face and I feel Jack snake his arm around my shoulder. 

"Lucy I am here for you. I get why you're bringing me. You need an ally." I drop my head onto his shoulder and he spins me into him so I am pressed against his chest. I nod my head that sits under his chin and he drops his cheek onto me. 

"Thank you, Jack. I mean it. Thank you. I know you didn't sign up for all of this."

"Yes, I did Lucy. I know you struggle with anxiety."

"I'm being conquered by anxiety," I mutter as he holds me and when he pulls away I am finally buzz-free. "Thanks for remembering my panic attack trick."

"I'm glad I remembered it too. I've never experienced a person having an attack, I just tried to remain calm. Not add panic to the situation," he lets out a light laugh, I'm sure releasing some of his nerves. I realize this is when I need to say it. He's all in with me. This isn't a game or an experiment to him. I really think he might actually be in love with me. That he's been listening to me longer than I thought and knows me better than I hoped. I think he is actually trying and is not just going to drop me for the next pair of long legs that strut by him. He is going to fuck up, he isn't perfect. But I don't think it will be for the reason I have been so worried about. I pull away from him and he gives me a small smile, still checking to make sure I am okay. 

"You really do love me don't you?" I ask him and he tilts his head back and lets out a bark of a laugh. 

"You really don't believe that I do, do you?" He asks with a smile still stretched across his face. "Yes, Lucy. I love you. I really really do."

"Good," I tell him before tilting my head up to find his eyes. "Because I love you too."