Page 55 of Hideaway Heart

She giggled. “So were you born fearless?”

I thought for a moment. “Maybe. Or maybe I was molded that way because I was the second kid. I was always trying to keep up with Austin. That meant I couldn’t be scared of anything he wasn’t scared of. And if hewasscared of something, I had to prove I wasn’t.”

“Like what?”

“Like jumping from the garage roof into a small plastic baby pool with like five inches of water in it. He wouldn’t do it, so I had to.”

“Did you get hurt?”

“Fuck yes, I got hurt. Broke my arm.”

“Ouch.”

“I also had a big mouth, so I’d get myself in trouble by bragging I could do shit I couldn’t actually do, but if Austin or anyone else called me out on it, I had to at least try to back it up.”

“What would you say you could do?”

“Once, I said I could fly.”

“Oh no.” She started to laugh.

“It didn’t end well.”

“I’m afraid to ask this, but how did you try to prove it?”

“I stood on the back of the couch and tried to grab onto the ceiling fan. I figured the momentum would get me going and I might fly for at least a couple seconds.”

“What happened?”

“I broke the fan. Got a bloody nose and a black eye.”

“And yet you’re probably lucky it wasn’t worse.”

“My mom wasso mad. Even Austin got in trouble, for letting me do it.” I paused as my mind wandered toward memories that were less physically harmful but had left me with deeper scars. “When she got sick, things changed. I changed.”

In the silence that followed, the rain seemed louder. “How so?”

“I was afraid.”

“Of losing her?”

“Yes.” Thunder rumbled, shaking the knotty pine walls as I went on. “And then when my worst fear was realized, I started to be scared of everything. And I hated it. I was fucking mad. Then one day I decided enough was enough and if something made me afraid, I had to face it down. For instance, I never used to like deep water.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Especially in a lake where you couldn’t see the bottom. Heights? I was fine. I’d climb any tree, scale any wall, ride the tallest rides. But that deep, dark water...it was the unknown. I was terrified of falling in and just sinking into oblivion.”

“How’d you get over it?”

“I jumped into deep water at every possible opportunity. Practiced holding my breath as long as possible. Became a good swimmer—have I mentioned my swim team records at the high school?”

Her laughter was soft. “Not yet.”

“A few of them still stand. Anyway, after high school, I did the thing I thought sounded the hardest and scariest—became a Navy SEAL combat swimmer. I was good at it because I knew how to overcome the panic and focus on the job.”

“You learned to compartmentalize.”

“I faced my fears.” It seemed like an important distinction. “I’m not afraid of deep water anymore. Or anything else.”