Page 34 of You Only Need One
He got me ice packs for my bruises and covered my eyes during scary movies. He hugged me when I was crying and defended me when I was bullied. He made my meals and picked me up from school. His steady presence was the anchor in a stormy childhood.
But I don’t press the button. He has a real job now, and it’s not taking care of me. Every day, he suffers because of something real, and here I am, falling apart because of a standard checkup.
It’s time to stop putting my irrational fears on him.
Unfortunately, deciding not to bother my brother doesn’t make leaving the restroom any easier. The idea of walking three blocks in a torrential downpour, so I can catch a bus that will in turn drop me off another four blocks from my apartment is depressing. Even though I’m successfully holding the tears back right now, I’m not sure that miserable commute wouldn’t put me over the edge.
I need to be calm. I need to be in control.
Maybe it’s not the healthiest solution, but I’ve recently found one way to get both of those things.
My phone practically dials itself, and he picks up on the second ring.
“Hey, Holly! What’s up?”
“Hey, Ben. Are you busy right now?”
“Not really. Just got out of class and was about to grab lunch. Why?”
“Is that offer for a ride still on the table?”
“Send me your address. I’ll leave now.”
Ready at a moment’s notice, like he’s Superman. Pairs well with my current damsel-in-distress situation.
“I’m at Dr. Williams’s office. Do you remember where that is?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there in fifteen. Twenty at most.”
“Okay. Text me, and I’ll come out to your car. Thanks for doing this. I owe you.”
“Stop saying you owe me. If anyone is in debt, it’s me. See you in a few.”
He hangs up before I can think of a response.
I attempt to smooth out the shaking in my hands and fix the mess that is my hair. Sometimes, I tug at it to calm my nerves.
Almost exactly fifteen minutes after I called him, Ben texts me that he’s outside.
When the front glass doors slide open, he’s waiting with an umbrella. “Not sure if you brought one.”
“I could kiss you, Ben.”
He gives me a funny look, but I just latch on to his arm, so we can both stay dry. The doctor’s office has a small parking lot, so his car doesn’t have to loiter on the street. Without even reminding him, Ben opens the driver’s door for me before collapsing the umbrella and rushing to the passenger side.
When we’re both ensconced in the warm, dry car, I take a moment to appreciate the firm steering wheel gripped in my palms.
I’m driving the car. I’m in control.
“You okay?” he speaks carefully, and I hate it. I’m not made of glass.
“Yeah. It’s just …” I let out a heavy sigh because I know how ridiculous my explanation will sound. “The needles. They get to me.” My head falls back against the seat, and I do my slow-breathing exercises.
“Can I do anything?” He sounds lost.
“I don’t know. I guess, talk to me about something. Anything.” Simply being around him is helping. My pulse isn’t racing anymore, just taking an energetic jog.
“I blew up a toilet once.”