Page 69 of Please Don’t Go (The Midnight Strike #1)

DANIEL

“Stop looking at me like that,” I grumble.

Angel grabs my arm, jerking me away before we enter the weight room, and shoves me further down the hall until we’re far away from everyone.

“So we’re not going to talk about it? You’re just going to act like everything’s fine?” The hurt expression on his face makes me look away.

“I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

He grips my shoulder. “I’m here for you. Talk to me.”

“I’m fine.” I shrug his hand away and turn, but he grabs my arm.

“Fine is not …” He peeks over again, making sure no one is listening. “Drinking to forget. Fine is not someone admitting they’ve attempted multiple times. That’s not okay and after yesterday, you can be upset. Be mad. Be anything instead of fucking fine.”

Since yesterday there’s this never-ending sinking feeling. Like an aftershock inside my body, every nerve clenches with dread. I’m so overstimulated. I don’t know if I really feel something or nothing at all.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how to be without her .

Regardless of what’s going on, I need to keep moving. I need to do something other than nothing or I’m going to crash. There’s this weight in my chest, almost like a ticking time bomb, waiting to go off.

I need her so badly.

“I’m fine.” I plaster on a smile and nod for him to follow me. He doesn’t at first, but a moment later, he’s behind me and we’re walking into the weight room.

My roommates say nothing to me, but I feel their stares. They helped me move out because I physically couldn’t touch anything without breaking down or knocking on her bedroom door to give me another chance.

Angel had to force me out of the house while the guys grabbed my stuff. He had a feeling that was going to happen and called them. They didn’t say anything to me and still didn’t this morning. I can tell they want to, but I’m hoping they’ll stick to keeping their mouths shut.

They do. They say nothing and act no different than they do on any other day.

But that doesn’t change how I feel. I can’t hide or shove the dark cloud looming over my head away.

But I try hard, I smile, I play along, I laugh, I do it all.

It still does nothing for me because once I’m in the locker room after weight lift, I notice how little I feel.

Closing my eyes, I rub my temples and breathe in and out.

“I bet you’re happy, huh?” I hear Bryson’s condescending voice behind me.

“Not right now.” I grab my stuff to shower, but it seems like he’s set on pissing me off because when I turn, he steps closer.

“You think you’re better. You just?—”

I clench my teeth, fisting my hands, but I don’t punch him. I promised Coach I wouldn’t. “I don’t know what you’re going on about, but get out of my way.”

“Any girl. You could’ve had any girl, but you picked Josie? Of all the girls, you just had to pick her?” His nostrils flare and a flash of glooms strikes his face.

“For fuck’s sake.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. Breathe in and out. “Get over it.”

“Get over it,” he mocks dryly. “I bet you’re happy, huh? You bring her around me. You live with her. You get to parade her around. Get to?—”

“We broke up!” The pressure in my chest expands through my body.

My fingers stiffly curve in, making them hard to move.

“We’re not together!” I inhale a shallow breath.

“I don’t live with her!” Why is it so hot in here?

“I don’t know what you fucking want from me!

” My ears are ringing, and my hands shake.

“I don’t—” Why is everything so blurry? I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, but when I open them everything tunnels. “I don’t—” Why can’t I breathe?

My chest is pounding. God, it hurts. It really fucking hurts.

I walk away, or at least I think I do? I’m walking, I’m moving.

No.

Stop!

Everything hurts.

I can’t breathe.

My chest—my lungs, they violently expand but I absorb no air. Did they stop working? Why aren’t they working?

My face. I can’t feel it. Why can’t I feel my face? My face. My chest. Why is nothing working? Am I dying?

My legs sway with every step despite how heavy they feel.

I need to sit. I need air.

I can’t breathe.

You make me so happy.

I drop to the ground. I don’t want to, but I do. I don’t know what I’m doing.

I tuck my legs to my chest, raising my palms to cover my ears, but the piercing ringing doesn’t stop.

Where is that noise coming from?

Why can’t I breathe?

“Get…everyone…”

Yelling. Who’s yelling?

“Out!”

I can’t see. Am I sweating? Stop sweating!

I’m always thinking about you.

Everything’s spinning. My thoughts aren’t mine. I can’t control anything. I’m so lost. I’m so hot. Am I dying?

“I can’t…” It feels like someone is choking me, it hurts so bad. I don’t know if I got the words out.

I rock back and forth, squeezing my ears, but noise persists incessantly.

“…hurts,” I sputter out and manage to inhale a tiny breath, but it only makes me dizzy.

“Hey, Sparky. You’re okay.” Coach? When did he get here? I can’t see him. Everything’s so dark. Why can’t I see him? “You’re okay, Danny.”

“I…I’m…dying…”

“You’re not dying.” He moves my hands away from my ears and holds them. “You’re okay. Just breathe for me, okay? In like this,” he softly instructs. “Then out like this. Breathe for me.”

I do but it hurts worse. Everything inside me swells and feels like it’s getting stabbed with a million knives.

“Danny, you’ve got it. Breathe for me.”

“I-I can’t…”

I know you will but not with me. I need you to let me go.

“You can. You’re doing it right now.”

His face comes into view. It’s blurry, but I see him.

“You’re having a panic attack. You’re okay, Sparky. I need you to breathe for me, okay? You can do it, just breathe,” he instructs again just as gently as the first time.

“I’m…not dying?” Am I crying? I feel the hot tears streaking down my face. I’m drenched in them and sweat, so much sweat.

“No, no. You’re not. You’re okay. You had a panic attack.” His face is a little clearer now, and now that I see him better, I see that he’s crouched on the floor in front of me, still holding my hands. “But I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you. Keep breathing for me, okay? You’re doing good.”

I attempt to nod but my neck is so tense. “I’m sorry.” I raggedly pant, feeling so embarrassed.

“Don’t ever apologize, Sparky. Things happen and sometimes those things are out of our control.” He sits next to me, brings his arm around my shoulder, and hugs me.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” I choke on a sob, the void in my chest burns. I don’t understand why when there’s nothing there.

There is so much effort put into existing. What the fuck even is the point? Why do I keep trying?

“That’s okay not to know. We’re going to figure it out together, okay?

” There is so much hope in his voice, I believe it for a second until it slips from my fingers.

“We need to have the doctor check you out and then we’ll go from there, okay?

But you’re going to be okay, Danny. I promise you will be. ”

“Danny?” Penelope whispers, stepping into my room.

I clutch my comforter, burrowing myself deeper into my bed.

“I’m fine, Pen.” I close my eyes, my head sharply pounding. “You don’t have to be here.”

She rushes to my side. I don’t open my eyes, but I know she’s sitting there, probably watching me with concern.

“Don’t say you’re fine. You had two panic attacks. That’s not fine.” She leans over me, wrapping her arms around me, and envelops me in a tight hug. “It’s okay not to be okay. Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Did Gray tell you?” He has a thing for not keeping his mouth shut.

“It doesn’t matter who told me. You’re not okay. Do you want me to call Mom and Dad? We can drive back home and?—”

“No. I don’t want you to call them. I don’t want them to know about this.”

“But they should know. Especially with?—”

“Adrian’s anniversary, I know! But I don’t want them to know. I don’t need them to worry over nothing.”

I shrug her off me and sit up, frustratedly dragging my fingers through my hair. Anguish floods her face as she scans mine. I know I look like shit. I got looks from my teammates outside the locker room after I finally got the strength to stand.

Coach D’Angelo and I sat on the ground for almost thirty minutes. I would’ve stayed there longer but Dr. Emerson, our team doctor, wanted to do a further assessment, and I needed to shower.

There were a series of things he said. Panic attack, dehydration, depression, stress, anxiety, medication, and so much more, but I kept coming and going.

At times, I was watching myself drift away. I wanted to pull myself back, force my body back in my own, but I couldn’t. I just watched it go. And at others, I was hearing what he was saying, but I couldn’t connect to anything.

A part of me felt untethered from my body, while the other was watching that disconnected part teeter over the edge. So close yet I couldn’t feel a thing.

I was just there.

I was told to sit out of today’s game and this coming weekend. Not too long ago, I would’ve fought against doing so. While baseball sometimes made me feel guilty, it was one of the two things I had that gave me purpose.

Now that I don’t have her, they could kick me off the team and I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“This isn’t nothing.” She grabs my hand. “This is your health. You matter, Danny, and I’m tired of you pretending like everything is fine. I know since Adrian?—”

“Dad doesn’t care. He pretends to care but he doesn’t. You know that. He blames me for what happened to Adrian. You were there! You heard him say it. So why would he care now? When he hasn’t since then.”

We were in high school. He was a freshman, and I was a sophomore.

It was spring break. One of our friend’s parents on our baseball travel team invited Adrian and me to go to the beach with them.

Dad and Mom wouldn’t let us go at first. They’d never been fans of us spending the night at other people’s houses, so going away for an entire week was definitely a no.

But eventually we wore them down after begging and having our friend’s parents ask them.

They were hesitant, but they had rules, rules we swore we’d follow.

They made me promise as the older sibling, to take care of him, make sure he didn’t do anything stupid or act out.

I did everything until they went jet skiing. I was supposed to go, but I’d gotten a cramp and needed to sit it out. I didn’t want Adrian to go because he’d be in the ocean, but he promised to keep his life jacket on, and our friend and his older brothers said he’d be all right.

The life jacket was faulty; the straps came off, and somehow he fell off. He panicked and they tried to grab him, but he was flailing his arms and freaking out. The waves just happened to be stronger that day and it kept pulling him back.

Everyone acted quickly; the lifeguard got to him and took him out of the water. My friend’s parents held me back while I screamed at the lifeguard to save him, to not stop doing CPR.

Mom and Dad got the call and the moment they showed up, Dad said, “It’s your fault,” “I should’ve gone with him,” and “I shouldn’t have let him go.” He repeated that over and over.

A lot happened that day, but I remember everything. Dad’s words, most of all.

“I know.” Her eyes glisten. “But I know he didn’t mean it. He’s sorry. I know he is. You have to talk to him and Mom. You have to tell them how you feel. You have to?—”

“This just isn’t about Adrian. She broke up with me.”

She reels back, eyes triple in size. “What? But I thought—what happened? Oh Danny, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Angel didn’t tell me that.”

It was Angel?

“It’s not her fault. I said things I regret, things I didn’t mean.

I’m so stupid. She was already going through it, and I just had to—” My eyes burn.

“I need to be alone. I don’t need them here.

I don’t need anyone here. I need you leave me alone, Penelope, because I’m fucking losing my mind and I can’t—I need to be alone,” I beg and drop back in the bed, lifting the comforter over my head.

“For once, just listen to me. I just want to be alone.”

There’s a loud silence, the kind I hadn’t heard since Adrian, and although I shouldn’t, I drown in it. I let myself fall deeper in the void and ignore what she’s saying, if she’s saying anything at all.

I just let myself drift away.