Page 26 of Hey Girl

Me: GIF of black cat filing its claws.

Mouse: Chris?

Mouse: Chris, what are we doing???

Notice she saidwe…

Rebecca

I’m clenched tight as a spring in the passenger seat of Chris’s two-seater. It’s a bright orange sportscar of some kind. I’m not terrified of the car so much; in fact, I’m kind of interested to see how fast it can go. What’s got me jittery is wondering what’s going to happen today. I’m alone with this guy, and while he’s nice, he’s a loose cannon, and I’m worried I’m going to have a breakdown in public, which would be seriously embarrassing, and make me break down even worse, resulting in paramedics needing to be called, which would be even more embarrassing, not to mention bring more unfamiliar people into the mix, and...

Oh god, I’m spiraling, and I can’t stop it. I’m spiraling right now and we haven’t even started our date, officially. I’m a failure and I suck at life and -

I’m zapped out of my mental tailspin by a loud crinkling sound beside me.

I release the taut muscles in my neck to turn just enough to see Chris is holding out a paper bag to me from the driver’s seat. I look at it a second before blinking up at him.

“I brought a few of these, just in case,” he offers. “I read on Google that they can help with nerves.”

I unwind my arms from myself and thankfully take the bag from him. “Oh…. Thank you.”

God, that’s sweet of him. I start to bring it up towards my face before I think better of it. My heart isn’t thrashing quite as hard as it was only ten seconds ago, and that’s unexpected; normally when I spiral, my heart acts like a jumping bean for ages. Maybe I could just do the bag breathing, but without the bag?

I slowly lower it and give it a try. I pull in air deep through the nose while trying not to make a show of it before expelling it quietly from between my lips.

My breath is still short but becomes steadier as I reflect on how Chris was thoughtful enough to bring a paper bag along and offer it to me without a speck of judgment. I can tell it came from a place of just wanting to be helpful. He even looked it up beforehand, which means, it’s possible he put thought into this date… and still showed up for it. Even knowing what a fucking basket case I am.

“Doing a little better there?” he asks, glancing over and I nod, giving him a thankful thumbs up while trying not to derail the breathing rhythm.

“Good,” he acknowledges as he holds his hand out, letting it hover between us.

What is he doing?

He flexes his fingers a couple times, and before I know what I’m doing, I place my hand in his. Yesterday I’d have been terrified to do that. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s seen a good chunk of all the whacked-out instability I have to offer.

Chris squeezes my hand he’s now holding and carefully lays both of them down to rest on my leg.

Huh… this is nice.

Maybe I can do this.

Maybe just with Chris. With all the care he’s been taking with my sensitivities, I feel like I can entertain the idea of having human interaction… with one person. He’s been so attentive and thoughtful, I could definitely give this a shot.

Yeah… I mean, he’s watched me trip out on his mom’s tea, held me against his shredded body, and when I short-circuited the other day, he not only didn’t run away screaming, he freaking kissed me. This guy’s is already in the Rebecca Hall of Fame - not that he wasn’t already famous, but you catch my drift.

I could have something with him. A light, easygoing, slow relationship…

Maybe.

But that maybe is everything.

Bungee jumping?

I go stiff again as I take in the sign through the windshield of Chris’s car.

Bungee. Jumping.

That’s what happens here.