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“Me too,” the other one said.

“Okay, let’s get you some lunch,” Layne said with a laugh.

“I’m might go to a party on Saturday,” I announced to my parents when I got home from work that night as we sat on the couch watching our nightly shows.

They shared a look of surprise.

“You are?” Mama said slowly.

“I am,” I said, nodding. “Layne, Sydney’s friend, invited me over for a little party Saturday at two and I’m going to go. I know I have book club tomorrow night, but I think I can do both.”

“Sweetie, that’s wonderful,” Mom said, giving me a hug.

“Thanks,” I said. “Here’s hoping I actually make it there.”

Agreeing to an event was the first step. Getting my ass there was the bigger challenge.

“You have your meds if you need them and you have your list,” Mama reminded me.

“I know,” I said. My therapist and I had developed a list of things I could do that helped me get out of an anxiety spiral. That, in addition to my meds and other coping strategies, were my arsenal for fighting my brain when it acted up.

“I’m really proud of you,” Mama said, kissing my temple.

“I’m proud of me too,” I said. That was something else I’d been working on.

“I think we should celebrate this,” Mom said, getting up from the couch. “I’m getting out the champagne.”

“Mom, we don’t need champagne,” I said, but she was already heading to the kitchen with Mama on her heels. They were absolutely going to talk about me, but that was fine.

Negative voices in my head wanted to tell me that agreeing to go to a party wasn’t anything to celebrate. That I was a ridiculous loser who couldn’t do normal things just like everyone else without having a panic attack.

I closed my eyes and did some quick breathing exercises until Mom and Mama came back with the glasses of bubbly.

“Cheers,” Mom said, and we all clinked our glasses together.

“We can make some dip for you to bring with you,” Mama said.

“Layne told me that it was taken care of and I shouldn’t bring anything. Besides, you’re already making it for book club,” I said.

“Oh,” Mama said, her face falling.

“You can make us dip,” Mom said, kissing her cheek. “We’ll have our own party.”

Mama’s eyes lit up. “We haven’t done that in a long time.”

Anyone could see the spark between them, and I felt my face getting red as they kissed passionately.

“Okay, can you not be all like that in front of me?” I said and they both laughed.

“You know when you get annoyed, that just makes us want to do it more?” Mom said, her eyes gleaming.

I stood up from the couch. “Okay, it’s time for me to go to my room and read.”

“Goodnight,” Mama sang before dissolving into giggles.

“Wait until I leave the room!” I yelled, not turning around.

“You ready?” Mama asked me as I grabbed the tray of dips she’d made that I was bringing with me to book club. Tonight I had roasted red pepper, tzatziki, and cowboy caviar, along with bags of chips. Someone else always brought a veggie tray, so that was already covered.