by Cora Reilly
Kevin spoke up again. “Reagan came home with me, maybe she can help.”
Maybe a woman wouldn't frighten Amber so much.
“Yes, can you get her?” Brian asked.
Kevin nodded and with a last glance in Amber’s direction, he disappeared from our view. I straightened and began pacing. I felt like I was going to burst from tension. Kevin returned with Reagan at his side. Brian practically jumped to his feet. “Reagan, thank god, you're here. Maybe you can get through to her.”
Shock crossed Reagan’s face when she spotted Amber. Her red hair was up in a high-ponytail and her shorts and workout-shirt were drenched in sweat. She must have jogged here. She tensed and for a heart-stopping moment I thought she’d say she couldn’t do this, couldn’t handle Amber. But Reagan snapped out of it. Slowly she approached her and lowered herself to the ground a good distance away from Amber before she crawled closer to Amber, who was still rocking herself on the ground. Reagan extended a hand and touched Amber's shoulder. Amber jerked back, but Reagan didn’t let go. “Shhh. It's alright. Everything is alright,” she cooed. Amber relaxed visibly. Reagan didn’t look very intimidating anyway with her freckles and lanky limbs.
“Go away,” she mouthed at us, her eyes imploring. Brian hesitated but I gripped his arm.
“Come on, Brian. Let's go into the kitchen. Reagan needs some time alone with Amber.”
“I guess you are right.” Kevin, Bill and Jason started to follow us but I turned around to the two idiots who’d caused the mess, “You,” I pointed at them. “Get lost. You've done enough damage for one day.”
Jason looked really miserable but Bill just shrugged and left the apartment. Asshole. I shook my head at his behavior and walked into the kitchen. Brian, Kevin and I sat down around the table and stared at each other for a moment. Apparently, neither of us knew what to say. Kevin kept throwing glances my way. Maybe he'd finally realized that Amber wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship. Especially not with me. I wasn’t the right guy for a girl like her.
“Reagan will help her,” he said eventually. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to console me, or Brian. Brian didn’t even raise his head from where he rested it on the table. No sounds were coming from the living room. I wished I knew what was happening. What if Reagan couldn’t talk Amber out of her panic attack? Seeing her like that, so broken and frightened, it was the worst thing I'd ever witnessed. I hated feeling so fucking helpless.
Amber
Someone touched my shoulder. I tried to get away from the person, away from the pain that would surely follow.
“Shhh...It's alright. Everything is alright,” a woman said. Her voice sounded kind, not threatening at all. I relaxed but I didn’t dare to lift my head yet. I didn’t want to see what was going on around me. Someone sat beside me and our shoulders brushed lightly. I shivered but didn’t pull back. Something about the person made me calm.
“Amber?” The woman asked softly.
Hesitantly, I turned my head to the side and lifted it from my knees. Kind brown eyes returned my gaze. Next to me sat a girl about my age, with long legs crossed at the ankles in front of her, red hair pulled into a ponytail. She looked like she’d been working out when she found me. She was wearing turquoise Nike running shoes and matching shorts.
She smiled. “'I'm Reagan. A friend of your brother.” God, I hoped Brian hadn’t called her out of the gym to deal with me.
I wiped the wetness from my cheeks and sat up a bit straighter. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since I’d lost control of myself. I remembered hearing Brian’s and Zach’s voice while I was drowning in my panic.
“I'm Kevin's girlfriend. He's living in the apartment at the end of the hall. He's friends with Zach and Brian. I don't think you've met him yet,” she chattered in a light tone, completely ignoring the fact that we were sitting on the ground, because I'd broken down. God, I was still only clad in a towel and the blanket that rested over my legs. I was a pathetic sight. But she didn’t say anything about it, and I was infinitely grateful for that.
“I'm Amber, Brian's sister,” I said lamely, though she probably knew that already. She smiled and rose to her feet, holding her hand out for me to take. “Let's go to your room. There we can talk some more.” I took her hand and stood up. She was a few inches taller than me and built like a hurdle runner, all long limbs and thin body. She quickly released me and grimaced. “Sorry. I’m sweaty. I really need to shower. Do I stink very badly?”
“Not very badly,” I said. She laughed. “Well, that’s a relief!” A tiny smile tugged at my lips. I led her toward my room where Pumpkin was pacing in front of the door. He nudged my calf as I entered, then he peered up at Reagan before striding over to the sofa and curling up on it. Reagan was watching him with obvious unease. I supposed everyone was scared of something, even a harmless cat. I took a few clothes out of the drawer. “Why don’t you take a shower in our bathroom while I get dressed?” I held up my jeans and shirt. “The bathroom is next door.”
“Thanks, but I can shower at Kevin’s. That’s where I left the bag with my clean clothes anyway.”
“Oh, okay.” I paused. She was leaning against my door, her eyes taking in the bare walls and empty desk. “How long have you been living here?”
“For a few days,” I said. I really wanted to get out of my towel and into my comfortable clothes, but I couldn’t undress with Reagan in the room. “I haven’t gotten a chance to put up pictures yet.”
“What kind of pictures? I love Miró.”
I flushed. “I don’t know. I’ll have to buy a few prints and frames.”
Reagan’s eyes darted to the clothes I still held in my hand. “I can turn around, or do you need me to go outside?”
I quickly shook my head. “No, turning around is fine.” I wasn’t sure if it was. She turned her back to me and reached for her ponytail, pulling out the hair tie.
Not taking my eyes off of her, I dropped the towel and dressed in record time. “It’s okay.”
Reagan faced me. “How about we go looking for pictures together? I know an amazing art store that sells beautiful bargain prints.”
I didn’t give my anxieties time to take over. “Sure. That sounds good.”
“Great!” She walked over to my desk and grabbed my phone. “I’ll put my number into your contacts.” Her fingers typed lightening fast, and a beep sounded. She pulled out her phone from the holder around her upper arm. “And now I have your number too. Send me a message if you feel up to going shopping?”
I nodded. “If I don’t, will you remind me again?” Sometimes I needed a little push. This social life thing, this whole living thing was new for me.
“You bet I will! I can’t wait.” She glanced at the watch around her wrist. “Shit. I need to hurry. I have Russian literature in ninety minutes. I can’t go there looking like a train wreck.” She scanned my face. “Are you going to be okay? I have a perfect attendance record, it wouldn’t be a problem if I skipped once. I could stay with you and we could grab something to eat.”
“No, I’m okay. Really.” I didn’t want Reagan to miss classes because of me. It was bad enough that I’d caused her and everyone else so much worry with my breakdown. “Russian literature? So you’re in College.”
Her hand on the door handle, she said. “Yeah, I’m majoring in Russian and French.”
“Wow. Maybe you can tell me more about it when we go shopping?”
“Deal. But I should warn you. Once I start talking about it, I probably won’t stop.” With a wave, she slipped out and closed the door. Somehow a day that could have become the biggest nightmare in months had turned out okay, thanks to Reagan. She seemed relaxed and in control of her life. Maybe we could become friends.
Zachary
Reagan appeared in the kitchen and walked over to Kevin. She slung her arms around his neck and kissed the top of his head, smiling. “I need to grab a shower. I don’t want to be late for classes.”
Brian’s h
ead shot up from his arm. “How's Amber?” I'd never seen him like this. He'd always been a pensive guy but right now he was bordering on depressed. Not that I could blame him. It had been hell for me to watch Amber like that, how much worse must it have been for Brian?
Reagan gave Brian a reassuring smile as she straightened. “She's fine,” she said. “She agreed to go shopping with me. Remember that art store I talked about?” The last was said to Kevin. “Of course. You showed me their website. I’m sure Amber will love it.”
“I know. We’ll buy a few prints for her room.”
Brian’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “She said yes?”
Reagan nodded. “I really need to go now.”
“I’ll join you,” Kevin said quickly, practically leaping off the chair. The way he undressed Reagan with his eyes, I doubted he had only showering in mind. They left the kitchen, holding hands.
Brian followed them with his gaze, his shoulders tense. I punched his arm lightly. “Reagan said Amber is okay. Stop worrying.”
“How can I stop worrying, Zach? You saw her.”
I leaned back with my chair until it rested against the counter and the front legs were in the air. He was right. “Do you have classes in the afternoon?”
“Yeah, but I won’t go. I don't want to leave Amber alone after what happened today. And I can’t focus on stuff like that right now.”
“Me too.” Not that I usually needed a reason to skip classes. “Do you want to order pizza? I’m starving.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go? You’ve been bailing on classes a lot lately.”
“You don't get rid of me so easily. So how about that pizza?” We'd eaten pizza or other fast food almost every day since we'd moved in together and it certainly wasn’t healthy but neither of us could cook.
“Then pizza again,” Brian agreed halfheartedly, reaching for the phone to call our favorite pizza restaurant.
“I could cook something for us.” The quiet words startled Brian and me. I almost tipped sideways with my chair and had to hold onto the counter to keep my balance. Amber lingered in the doorway, looking uncomfortable and embarrassed as she gnawed on her lower lip.
“That sounds like a great idea,” I said with a smile. Some of the tension leaked out of her body. I couldn’t believe she was the same girl who’d been cowering on the ground less than thirty minutes ago. “Well, unless your cooking skills are anything like Brian’s. I’m not in the mood for food poisoning.”
Brian didn’t laugh, didn’t react in any way to my jab. I kicked him under the table to shake him out of his stupor. She let out a small breathy laugh. “I think my cooking skills are quite alright. Dad never complained.” The smile vanished from her face and she chanced a look at Brian.
“Amber is a fantastic cook,” he said finally. “You’re in for a treat.” He couldn’t even look her in the eye. Instead he was staring at the table. Could he act any more obvious? “You don't need to cook. Maybe you should rest? You’re probably exhausted.”
Her lips tightened. “I’m not. I'd really like to cook, but if you don't want me to, then that’s okay.”
Brian shook his head hastily. “No, I love your cooking. I just thought that you needed to rest after...never mind.”
Amber blushed and averted her gaze. Oh for fuck’s sake, watching them interact was almost painful. Brian was the biggest moron ever.
“I'll check the fridge and cupboard to see what I have to work with,” she said eventually and stepped into the room. Brian sat rigidly on his chair, probably worried to scare her if he moved, and I didn't dare to move much either. But it was getting uncomfortable with my chair standing on two legs, so I let it fall back on his front legs with a low thud. Amber jumped slightly and Brian shot me a glare.
Amber ignored us mostly and even moved past us to get to the fridge but Brian kept watching her as if he expected her to have another panic attack. I was torn between breaking the silence and keeping my mouth shut. Amber turned to us after a few minutes of rummaging and gestured at a few items on the kitchen counter. “I think I could cook Penne Arrabiata from this. Is that alright? We really need to go grocery shopping if I’m supposed to cook more often.”
“Knock yourself out,” I said. “I’m always down for pasta.”
“Sounds good,” Brian said.
She began to work and I rose from my chair to grab the sports magazine that was lying on the counter behind Brian. His hand shot out. “What are you doing?” His eyes darted to Amber, who noticed as usual. Her face filled with embarrassment. “You don't have to sit there like statues, you know? You can move. I don't mind.”
Brian glared at me as if it was all my fault and handed me the magazine. He needed to stop being so fucking careful. I began to read, watching Amber from the corner of my eye now and then. She seemed content and happy while she cooked, her face more relaxed than I'd ever seen it before.
***
“Ready,” she said and the smell of pasta flooded my senses. It smelled delicious. She carried the pot over to the table and put it down. “Won't you set the table?”
Brian and I both rose at once and froze when we realized that we were now standing over her. She looked fragile and delicate and the urge to protect her flared up in me. She didn’t flinch. She ignored us and sat down on a chair. Brian and I took that as our clue to grab plates and put them on the table. We dug in as soon as we'd sat down.
“So good,” I praised between bites of pasta.
She hummed in response, sucking a spaghetti into her mouth. Tomato sauce coated her lips and I felt the ridiculous urge to lean over and kiss her.
“I missed your cooking,” Brian said.
“I want to apologize for...” She trailed off and swallowed hard, her gaze flitting toward the living room for an instant. “...for being such a bother.”
I swallowed the pasta in my mouth. Brian reached out for her but thought better of it and returned his hand to his side, giving her a forced smile. “You aren't a bother, Amber.”
“It's good to have a girl in the apartment who can cook for us, do the laundry and clean everything,” I joked, winking at her.
She let out a laugh like tinkling bells. It was a beautiful sound. “I'm not going to do your dirty laundry.”
Did she know how beautiful she was? I wanted to slap myself. I shouldn't be thinking about her in such a way. She was Brian's sister after all, and that was only the tip of the iceberg of things standing between us.
“The meeting of the support group is today. I think I might want to go,” she said, chancing a glance at Brian.
He put his fork down at once. “I can drive you there.”
“That would be great. It's at seven, so you have enough time to finish your pasta.” She leaned back in her chair, and rolled her eyes at me when Brian wasn’t looking.
I stifled a laugh. Fuck, that girl was worming its way into my heart and I didn’t have the first clue how to stop her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Amber
Nerves fluttered in my stomach. Why did I have to mention the support group? Now I had to go or Brian would worry. Would I have to talk about what had happened? I wanted to forget, not drag everything back to the surface. But Dad and Brian set their hopes in the group. I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder. I would do this for them.
Brian was already waiting in the living room when I entered. I gave him a smile that probably looked very forced but it was the best I could do. He held the door open for me and I walked past him into the hallway, careful to keep my distance. Straightening my back and sucking in a deep breath, I walked into the elevator. Brian joined me after a moment, cautious and worried. He kept as much space between us as possible and pressed the button. The elevator began moving and the awkward silence between us was threatening to suffocate me. I wanted my relationship with Brian to return to normal, to how it had been before the day that had ruined everything. But how could it ever get normal if I couldn't even hug him or
take his hand? The elevator stopped and we strode toward Brian's car. I buckled myself up. Brian kept his gaze fixed on the windshield and held himself rigid as we drove off.
“The support group will help you,” he said into the silence.
I decided to play along. “I'm sure it will.” I tightened the hold on my purse to hide the trembling of my hands.
***
We parked in front of the part of the Massachusetts General hospital where the support group meeting was held. “Do you want me to bring you to the door?” Brian asked as I unbuckled.
“No.” I wasn’t a toddler. I needed to do this on my own, even if I felt safer with someone I knew.
Brian’s hand on the seat buckle froze. “Are you sure?” Upon seeing my expression, he nodded. “Okay. I can wait until the meeting is over if you want.”
I raised my head to look at him. “No, Brian, it's alright. I don’t know how long it’s going to take and I’m sure you have better things to do than sit in the car. I’ll call you once I’m done.”
He looked hesitant but after a moment he said, “Okay, but wait inside for me. I’ll call you when I pull up.”
I got out of the car and threw the door shut. With a last worried glance, Brian drove off. I drew in a shaky breath as I headed toward the glass entrance and stepped into the brightly lit lobby. This outpatient center was part of the psychiatric department of the MGH, but my worry that everyone would look at me like I was weird was completely unfounded. Except for an elderly woman behind the welcome desk, there was only a tall girl with dark brown hair in the lobby. I was supposed to register but the thought of sitting down in circle with people who’d gone through the same thing as I had suddenly seemed impossible. The mere idea made my stomach coil. Calm down.
The tall girl was looking at a notice board on the wall. I walked toward her slowly, not yet ready to register with the receptionist, and the girl turned to me when I stopped beside her. She was older than I’d first thought, maybe twenty, but she was so skinny that she’d looked younger from afar.