Page 29 of Fight or Flight
HotandCool: No biggie if I do.
Bigfan216: What class do you hate that much???
HotandCool: All of them!
Katherine understood Lola’s dislike for high school. Hopefully, she wasn’t being picked on or made fun of. Kids could be so cruel. It seemed girls were even crueler than boys. She herself had been forced to attend many coed events during her years at the Burgess Hill School, which often partnered with Wellington’s School for Young Men for social events. Those had been some of her most miserable times, especially when she was called out for her lack of participation. It didn’t matter if it were a coed dance, which she’d despised more than anything, or weekend movie nights with both schools gathered in the boys’ gymnasium. She’d been alone. None of the boys were interested in her. She was taller than most of them and knew this had intimidated them.
The girls had made fun of her every opportunity they had. Especially for her accent. She never went home. Had no family come to visit. She’d been a total outcast. Yes, she completely understood Lola’s hatred for school. Even now, just thinking of all she’d endured made her cringe. The day she’d graduated, she booked a flight to Boston and took nothing with her except her spiral notebooks. Her parents provided all the money she needed for college, and anything else, as long as they didn’t have to deal with her. She’d never looked back.
Bigfan216: I hate school too.
HotandCool: I can’t wait till TG break!
Bigfan216: For sure! Any plans?
HotandCool: Sleepin’ late!
Katherine was an early riser now, though she hadn’t liked getting up at six in the morning, either, at that age. Going to the hall for breakfast with all the mean girls when she was in high school had been torture. No one liked the early start. Katherine knew many of the girls back then had taken their anger out on her. For almost five years, she’d tolerated them, which had angered them even more. The day she left Burgess Hill had been the best day of her life.
She glanced at the time on the screen. The scent of cinnamon and apple beckoned her to the kitchen. It was time to take the dessert out of the oven. She didn’t want it to burn.
Bigfan216: I gotta go, I’ll ttyl.
HotandCool: See ya!
She left her computer on so she could hear thepingwhen a new email arrived. She used two bright yellow potholders and removed the pie from the oven. Both dogs sniffed, their noses dampening.
“Not for pooches,” she told the pair. “Though maybe we can find an extra treat for you this morning.” Sam and Sophie barked. She placed the pie on a wire rack to cool, then took two beef sticks from their special canister. “Sit,” she instructed. When they obeyed, she gave them their treat. “Good pooches.” Their behavior still amazed her.
She took the chicken for dinner out of the fridge, and after she cleaned it, she snipped a few sprigs of rosemary and thyme, tucking the herbs beneath the bumpy skin. She salted and peppered the skin, then put the chicken back in the refrigerator to marinate.
She was unsure if she should dress up for the date, so she went upstairs to her bedroom to see what she had to wear. She didn’t own many clothes. There was no need. Katherine spent her days in jeans and T-shirts. It wasn’t as though she needed to dress up for work or to socialize. She pulled hanger after hanger aside, finally settling on a pair of black jeans she’d bought a few months ago. She decided on a simple red cashmere sweater and black booties she still had from her days in Boston, doubtful Tyler would care what she had on her feet. With that out of the way, she entered the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. Her hair reached down to her waist and would’ve been to her knees if she hadn’t started trimming it herself. Opening drawer after drawer, searching for a tube of lipstick and maybe some mascara, she found she had nothing. She hadn’t needed it. Now she wanted to feel pretty, feminine. She didn’t think she could purchase makeup in such a short amount of time, but she raced downstairs to her computer. Apple Blossom had a cosmetics section; she’d seen it online before, though she had always skipped past that page. Glancing at the clock, she realized she had enough time to make an order. They had a two-hour delivery window, and they’d never been late in all these years she’d used their service.
Before she changed her mind, she ordered a tube of Revlon’s Super Lustrous lipstick in the color Bare Affair, which made her grin. She also chose a blush in shade Berry Merry. She wondered who chose the names for this stuff. A brown eyeliner pencil and a tube of Maybelline mascara, still sold in the same pink and green tube she remembered, rounded things out. Before she went crazy, she thought she’d best add a few other items she would need anyway: garbage bags, food-storage bags, dishwasher detergent, and an extra bottle of dish soap. Remembering she’d promised Doc Baker a chocolate cake, she ordered cocoa and an extra bag of confectioners’ sugar. She would use all of it sooner or later. She placed her order, and a window popped up, saying her items would be delivered in forty-five minutes. It must have been a slow morning.
Katherine thoughthermorning unusual, since she hadn’t experienced the first sign of anxiety, not one symptom. She looked at the clock again. Could she go outside to the deck? For just a minute or two? She awaited the fast heartbeat to kick in, the dry mouth. Nothing.
“Okay. Maybe Icanmake progress.”
Chapter Nine
Both dogs were lounging on the deck, the autumn sun shining brightly, the temperature comfortable. They didn’t like the cold. Katherine took this as a sign. Without bothering to put her shoes on, she walked over to the door and, without thinking, she stepped outside onto the deck. Her heart was racing just a little. Her hands weren’ttooshaky. She tried swallowing, and there was no problem—another step. Katherine started counting out loud. “One, two, three . . .”
When she reached thirty-two seconds, she stepped back inside, both dogs following. If she were to rate her sense of panic on a scale from one to ten, she’d give it a four. Amazed by her progress, she wanted to tell someone, but there wasn’t anybody. “Sam and Sophie, I am going to run with you. Soon.” She spoke to them as though they understood. She didn’t know why she’d been able to step outside just now, but she would accept this as a victory—one step at a time. Wasn’t that the Alcoholics Anonymous mantra?
Katherine heard apingfrom her computer. She’d forgotten all about Karrie’s problems for a few minutes. She opened her email. Nothing from Karrie, just an ad for socks. “Last thing I need,” she said, and deleted the email. But she left the computer on, with the volume turned up as loud as it would go.
She couldn’t stop wondering how she had managed to walk out to the deck and feel okay. Could it be that her mind was focused on something other than her usual fear when attempting to go outside? She was not a psychiatrist—though lucky for her, Tyler was, and he would be there tonight. She wanted to tell him of her recent victory. Would he encourage her to push herself beyond her comfort zone? If all the books she’d read were true, then yes. With each success, there would come more if she allowed herself to endure the fear. Easier said than done. She knew therapies and medications could treat her disorder but didn’t want to go that route. Focusing on the possibility of a normal future, she decided to personally accept the delivery from Apple Blossom’s delivery guy rather than have them place her bags outside the door.
She went upstairs to put her sneakers on. Downstairs, the dogs started their usual barking when they heard a car entering the drive leading to the house. Taking a deep breath, then slowly exhaling, seemed to calm her. When she heard a car door close, she took another breath, blowing it out before stepping onto the deck. Katherine felt lightheaded, but not so much that she couldn’t function. A young man, in his early twenties maybe, with sandy brown hair, carried two paper bags up the stairs. Katherine took another deep breath, releasing it slowly, focusing on this person who must be Royce. Both dogs circled him when he reached the top of the steps. He seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him.
“Hi,” he said, about to drop the bags.
“No,” Katherine said, her voice strong, assured. “I’ll take them.”
He handed the bags over to her. She took the paper handles, her knuckles whitening as she gripped them. She was about to go back inside when the man spoke. “Nice to finally put a face to the name.”
Nodding, she stepped inside, then turned to look at him. “Thank you,” she said, glad she was such a generous tipper to offset any awkwardness.
