Chapter Twenty-Two: I Need to Put My Mouth on Something!

      “Uh, Luke,” I began, staring at the scene before me and not daring to move off his motorcycle, “why is there vibrating music coming from your house when you’re not actually inside it, and why are we here?”

      “Well, you see, Livy, since my big brother Benny happens to be on house arrest, he can’t actually go to parties, so the parties come to him,” Luke answered, peeling my hands off of his torso, one finger at a time. He hopped off his bike, and then held a hand out, indicating that I should do the same. Hesitantly, I accepted his hand and climbed off of the vehicle, wobbling as I stepped onto the cracked concrete with my “Kit Lawson” heels that were still working on their goal of spraining my poor ankles.

      “I’m not going in there,” I told him firmly. “Sorry, Luke, I don’t do parties.”

      “C’mon, Liv, it’ll be fun!” he assured me, pulling on my hand in an attempt to coax (or forcefully drag me) into the small shelter pumped with people and noises.

      “That’s what Elle said before she took us camping,” I retorted, dead-set on not moving an inch. I couldn’t. My stomach was already grumbling, and not because I was hungry—it was the nerves; the anticipation.

      “Yes, but I guarantee you that what lies behind those doors doesn’t involve nature or granola bars,” he sighed, successfully managing to pull be about a millimeter from where I had halted. “Just give it half an hour, and if you don’t like it, we can leave. I promise. Besides, if you get into any trouble, you can either find Ben or me, but I’d go with Ben because he’s legally supposed to stay sober right now or something. Also, he tends to deal better in crisis.”

      And then, as if someone had replaced me with a party-loving clone, I uttered a single word that made Luke’s face light up like a Christmas tree. “Fine.”

      With that, Luke didn’t hesitate to waste any more time than he already had, and was dragging me along towards his front door. He opened the unlocked entrance, and I immediately shielded my eyes, lights and various forms of smoke wafting about in the small structure. Deep beats of music blasted from somewhere, and the song sounded familiar and modern, though I didn’t know it. I didn’t mind music, but I most certainly wasn’t dependent on it like some.

      In my three years of attending high school—if THE Academy really counted as a “high school”—I had been to only one party, and it happened to not be by choice, obviously. It was sophomore year and Piper and Preston had begged their parents for months and months to throw a party at their house. After the constant nagging, Kara finally caved, and since John happened to be out of town the weekend that they were throwing it, he didn’t have to find out. The twins were beyond excited that they would be having their very own party, and went all out for it.

      Every drink imaginable was stocked in their fridge, and a buffet of the most calorie-filled snack foods sat on the island in their kitchen. There was a moon bounce outside in their backyard (this was Kara Kent who had organized the majority of the soiree, after all), and they had even gone to the extend of renting out video game machines—like, the big old ones that were always at pizza places and in arcades. The house looked great, and Kara had skillfully put away anything she thought might get wrecked by the mob of private school kids, and also hired a DJ. It wasn’t exactly what most would think of when envisioning high school parties, but THE Academy also wasn’t exactly the most “high school-y” school out there.

      Since it was Piper and Preston’s party, I was obligated, invited, and forced to go. I showed up about two hours early, and just hung out with my two best friends. And then people started to come. And come. And come. There were so many people there, and I only knew two, both of whom were consumed in playing host, while trying to enjoy themselves. Someone had brought some wine coolers, and that was the only main scandal. THE kids tended to stray away from drugs—well, most of them did. They didn’t find it “cool,” and knew that the possibility of getting written out of their family’s will was always looming overhead. It was a perfectly fine party, but within about ten minutes, I realized that I didn’t want to be there.

      I ventured upstairs—a place that had been blocked off and set as “off-limits,” and then found Kara sitting in their home theater, watching some bad reality show about women in their mid thirties who lived in California or something. She noticed me in the room, and then told me to sit down next to her, so I did. We watched the dumb show for a while (apparently it was a marathon of episodes going on), and then when parents began to show up in order to pick up their kids, Kara left me to go and play Mother of the Year. I stayed upstairs, focusing on my breathing as I internally discovered that I had kind of survived my first high school party. I didn’t like it. At all.

      Now, as I stood in the threshold of Luke Daniels’ house, Luke himself right beside me as a party occurred in front of us, I didn’t feel a sense of de ja vu. This was different than the Kent’s first party a little over a year ago. For starters, I had a hunch that this wasn’t high school kids with Benjamins stuffed to the brim in their back pockets. All the people here looked rough and older and either hyped up on alcohol or drugs. In some ways it was scarier than the Kent’s party, but in other ways, it wasn’t. Here, I didn’t know anyone, and they didn’t know me. That was a good thing.

      “Hey, Liv!” Luke shouted over the music, capturing my eyes in his. “Do you want anything to eat or drink?” I merely shook my head in response, not having the deep desire to blow out my vocal chords before the evening was over. “Do you want to dance?” I shook my head again. “Want to smoke some pot?” I was about to shake my head, but then Luke laughed, continuing to speak, “That was a joke. Don’t do drugs. They’re bad, and they’ll ruin your life. Take these fine people here for example and warning.”

      “I don’t intend on ever pursuing the path of illegally allocated narcotics,” I said to him with a shrug. “What about you?”

      “Eh. I smoked some weed a while ago. It wasn’t for me. I’ll stick to wrecking my lungs with nicotine and tobacco, thank you very much,” Luke said, taking a few steps into the crowded house throbbing with people in barely any clothes, with no proximity between each other.

      “I-I don’t like this,” I said, closing my eyes in the house that it would just go away for a moment. It didn’t.

      “I know, Liv. Just another thirty minutes, and then we can leave. I promise,” he assured me. I nodded my head in acceptance, not saying a word. “So, um, what do you want to do?”

      “I don’t know,” I said, my mouth close to his ear so that he could actually hear what I was saying, even with the music.

      “Well, this is a party, and you do look pretty hot, so we could always try making out…again,” he suggested with a wink. I gagged at even the thought, and before I could process what was happening, Luke wasn’t next to me anymore, but instead strangers. There were strangers everywhere, and despite my best efforts, I just couldn’t seem to find Luke Daniels. He had vanished into the crowd within his house, and as the unknown people brushed past me, I felt a full-on panic attack coming on. It was happening all over again.

      As fast as I could, I attempted to maneuver my way through the mass of people, making as little contact with them as possible. My breathing began to transform into pants, and I knew that if I didn’t find a safe place soon, I would break down completely, even though I already knew that I was about to. I managed to make it to the familiar hallway that I had been in once before, and figured that my best bet was to go into Luke’s room, praying that no one was in it. Thankfully I remembered that Luke’s room was the one at the end of the short corridor, and when I finally reached it after pushing past the many intimate individuals, I wasn’t too relieved to find two individuals practically ripping each other’s clothes off. The guy, though, well, he looked kind of familiar.

      Suddenly, as if hearing the door creak open, the dark-haired dude slowly turned around, dropping the girl that his hands had been all over in the process. He stared at me for a long moment, and then as if finally figuring out who I was, a soft smile played across his lips. I, on the other hand, spent no time contemplating his identity. He was the more attractive version of Luke, aka, Ben Daniels.

      “Olivia, right?” he said with that charming grin of his. I nodded. “Did Luke ditch you?” I nodded again. “Are you okay?” I shook my head. He said something to the obviously drunk girl that got her to stumble out of the room, bumping into me in the process. She slammed the door loudly behind her, and then Ben followed after, locking it for further privacy. “Did something happen?”

      At that, I completely lost it. I found myself collapsed onto the ground, rocking back in forth as I curled into the familiar position that I had tried desperately to forget. My knees were up to my chin, and my arms were wrapped securely around my legs as I went back and forth. I felt water began to drip down the side of my cheek, and my stomach was mashing itself towards as my head whirled about with notions of worry. My teeth were chattering, and every part of me was shaking. I looked pathetic, but I couldn’t stop, no matter how hard I tried. This was a panic attack, and though it had been a while since my last one, I knew fully well what it was.

      “Uh, there, there,” Ben said awkwardly, crouching down to my level as he patted my back, thinking that it would help. I already knew that it wouldn’t. When I got like this, there was nothing and nobody that could stop what was going through my mind. “Did Luke do something?”

      “N-no,” I somehow stammered out.

      “Uh, then what’s wrong?” he asked, continuing to pat my back. Most people didn’t know how to reach to a display of such extreme anxiety, and honestly, I couldn’t blame them. If I had been in his or her position, watching someone like me worry so much, I couldn’t even imagine how I would react.

      “I-I’m having a pan-panic at-attack,” I hiccupped, trying to breathe in and out, but only finding air harder to obtain. I hated this. I hated that I was the one doing this to myself. And I hated that I couldn’t stop. “The-the people. I-I can’t.”

      “Shhh…It’s okay, Olivia,” he said, switching things up my rubbing circles in my back, instead of repeatedly hitting it lightly. “Um, I know it’s probably not the right time to mention it, but you look hot.”

      “You’re-you’re brother p-picked out the-the outfit,” I got out, closing my eyes, though it only made it worse. Darkness was when the anxiety was able to take on a completely different form, capturing my imagination for the worse.

      “I always knew he had a thing for clothes. Maybe he’ll come out of the closet one day and become a fashion designer,” Ben laughed. Though it was meant as something to be funny, I didn’t laugh. I just continued to rock back and forth and cry. “Olivia, what can I do to help you?”

      “G-get me out of he-here,” I told him fragmentally. “I-I need to-to leave. The p-people.”

      Ben merely nodded, accepting what I had said, and what he did next made my insides churn even more than they already were. Ben Daniels, Luke Daniels’ older brother, picked me up, cradling me in his arms and then exited Luke’s room, still holding the weeping “weird” girl. I was stunned and embarrassed and completely too preoccupied in self-deprecation to care about anything else.

      He pushed through the throngs of people, and even though it was his house, they didn’t really move aside too willingly. Everyone in the house was out of it, whether it was due to drugs or alcohol, and with the addition of my anxiety, fear wasn’t exactly the best thing to mix in. All I wanted to do was go outside and breathe the smokeless air in a people-less place.

      Ben carried me all the way over to the door, and then when we reached the entrance, he set me down gently, pointing to his ankle. “Sorry, Olivia, I can’t really go outside. I’m kinda on house arrest, meaning that I have to stay inside the actual house at all times, but I’ll go try to find Luke as soon as I can. Are you going to be okay until then?”

      I nodded mutely in response, the tears continuing to flow from eyes, even as I attempted to regulate my breathing. It certainly wasn’t my finest hour—that was for sure. Ben disappeared back into the masses. I walked away from the Daniels’ house and over to the sidewalk right in front of it, sitting down on the curb, and not even caring what the dirt would do to my dress. I didn’t want to be here anymore (not that I ever had), and the more time I spent here, the more anxious I got. I needed to go home. Now.

      Collapsing my face in my hands, I just kept crying. It wasn’t the emotionless peaceful crying, either. No, this was full-on ugly, hideous, and completely gruesome crying. I already knew from prior experiences that my eyes were going to end up puffy, and I just felt bad inside. I wasn’t about to throw up, which I was thankful for, but the tears never seemed to stop flowing. The worst part was that I wasn’t really crying over anything useful—just the quintessence of worry sprouted from the many people.

      “Olivia!” Luke Daniels suddenly exclaimed, plopping right down next to me on the gray sidewalk. “Are you okay? What happened? Ben told me that you were crying, and I’m so sorry for leaving you, what happened?”

      “Anxiety, ha-happened,” I cried. He didn’t say anything after that, but merely put his arm over my shoulder, pulling me into him. It was comforting, but I didn’t like it, and knew that it wouldn’t help. Then, after being silent for a few seconds, he began to talk again.

      “Do you remember my tattoo that said ‘b.a.d.’?” Luke asked. I nodded against him, but didn’t say anything, trying to focus on him instead of my worries, “Well, Ben’s middle name is Adam, so that’s the story behind it. I just got his initials, which happened to be a word that I like a lot.” Mentally, I reviewed Ben’s initials, trying desperately to divert my mind. That was the trick, after all. Ben Adam Daniels. BAD. Those initials were just about as cool as they came. “And the ‘Never’ one is for my dad. He was a jackass, left us to become some idiot alcoholic, and it just reminds me that I never want to be like him. No matter what.”

      “Why-why are you telling me this?” I croaked, the tears seeming to momentarily come to a ceasefire with my cheeks.

      “Because whenever I cried when I was little, my mom used to always tell me stories. It helped distract from whatever I was crying about,” he told me reminiscently. “It was a dirty trick, but somehow it always managed to work—like right now.” I shot him a week smile, but that didn’t stop the panic. “What happened, Livy?”

      “I-I don’t know if you’ve fi-figured it out ye-yet, Luke, but-but I have th-this thing ca-called ‘social an-anxiety,’ meaning that-that I re-really don’t like pe-people,” I said, much more fluently than I thought was possible for someone with as much inner turmoil as I.

      “What do you mean?”

      “Some-sometimes when I’m-I’m around a lot of pe-people, I have pan-panic attacks, like-like right now,” I breathed in and out, trying to stop everything. Nothing was working. I was just too revved up to stop the adrenalin from coursing through my body and making me like this. It was terrible.

      “Shit,” he shook his head, “I’m so sorry, Liv. I didn’t know. If I had known, then I would’ve never taken you here.”

      “It-it’s fine,” I mumbled.

      “No, it’s not,” Luke protested. He then began to extract something from his jacket pocket, and when I saw what it was, I immediately snatched it away from him, even in the unbalanced state I was in. Luke eyed me suspiciously and the box of death that I had stolen from him. “Uh, hey, Liv, can I have my cigarettes back, please?”

      “No,” I said firmly.

      “But Olivia! I need to put my mouth on something!” he whined, but then those gray eyes of his lit up with what I assumed to be a combination of his idea of brilliance and mischief. Just like fear and anxiety, it wasn’t a good fusion.

      Luke Daniels removed his arm from me, in order to cup my chin in his hand. Then, with a sly smirk that I grossly found endearing, he pressed his lips to mine. For. The. Second. Time. Tonight. It wasn’t as direct as the first time he had kissed me, and was slower and more passionate. His lips moved with mine, but I wasn’t doing any of the work. I was still numb, and my stomach was still a tangle of chaos.

      He continued to kiss me, and the “weird” part was that I didn’t stop him. I just let him kiss me, and after a few minutes of it being one-sided, something in me snapped, and I began to kiss back. I put my arms around his neck, bringing him closer to me—even if were on the sidewalk in front of his house—and one of his hands moved to the side of my face, the other clamping around my waist.

      Though I didn’t want to admit it, the more time Luke Daniels’ mouth spent glued to mine, the more I liked it. I actually liked kissing Luke Daniels. From the way his tongue swiped across the bottom of my lip, forcing it open, to how calming the entire experience was. I liked it, and liked it a lot, no matter how agitating it was to admit. Luke Daniels was definitely a good kisser, and as I pondered that one thought, nothing else seemed to really matter.

      Moments passed by, and then both of us pulled back, completely out of breath. I just stared at Luke Daniels in the street lamp lit light, and he stared right back at me. He possessed a small smile, but I knew that my face was expressionless. I just couldn’t help it—displaying emotions was neither my forte, nor a talent.

      “You’re a pretty good kisser, Liv,” Luke told me sincerely.

      “Eh, you’re okay,” I shrugged, relieved that though my stomach was still doing a dance routine, at least it was only partially from the worries.

      “I’m actually amazing, but if you haven’t figured that out, then I can totally kiss you again just to prove it,” he said smugly, winking at me.

      “No, let’s not do that,” I said, noticing that neither of us had moved from our previous positions during the actual kiss.

      “Then what do you want to do, Liv?”

      “I want to go home.”

      “Okay, then. Let’s go.” And so we did.

A/N: And that is how you write about a panic attack. Thanks for reading. Bye.

-Sophie