Page 66 of Pumped

I shake my head again and push past him. I can’t deal with him right now. I can’t deal with him being all take charge and solve the problem and fix all the things. I can’t handle him being so goddamn Owen.

I need space, air. I need time to feel my feelings without him hovering above me. I need to come to terms with being in love.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

OWEN

Everest is full-on sprinting away like he’s being chased by a goddamn ghost. My heart is in my throat, racing a mile a minute, and my brain kicks into crisis management mode. What happened? Is he okay? What should I do?

I’m about to go after Everest when Nell grabs my arm.

“Give him a minute. He just needs to feel his feelings.” She gestures for everyone to head toward the restaurant where we were planning to grab lunch.

He needs to feel his feelings? What the hell kind of feelings does he need to feel in the middle of the day? In the middle of the zoo? What in the world were he and Nell talking about in the shuttle?

I stare in the direction Everest ran off in, guilt and worry eating away at me as I try to will him to reappear.

This is my fault. I’ve been avoiding him for the better part of the day and I know Everest doesn’t like to be ignored. I just…

The conversation with Mom this morning really threw me. Realizing that I love Everest is… it would have been a big dealwith anyone, but with Everest, it’s like a freaking bomb went off in my head and I’ve just been trying to keep my shit together.

Because if I looked at him for too long, if I listened to his voice too closely, if he touched me, I might crumble into a blubbering mess. The only way I can make it through the day is to keep everything locked down until we’re back in the safety of our home.

That’s not the way Everest operates, though. Everything is immediate for him, amplified and extreme. There’s no regulation, no measured control. He’ll keep spinning until he crashes and then who has to pick him up and put him back together? Me.

I can’t do that if he’s disappeared on me. I can’t fix things when I don’t know what happened or what’s wrong or what he’s feeling. I need to know where he is, damn it. I need to know that he’s going to be okay, that he’s safe—that he’s coming home.

My every instinct is screaming at me to go in search of him, to find him and demand he talk to me. But as much as I’m loath to admit it, Nell is right. When Everest gets overwhelmed, he needs time and space to “feel his feelings.”

Ugh. I hate that phrase. What does that even mean? Feelings are inherently felt. The whole sentiment is redundant.

“Come on.” Nell tugs lightly on my arm.

With gritted teeth, I reluctantly follow her and the rest of the family toward the restaurant. Even so, I can’t help glancing backward every few steps. Sitting still and doing nothing is not my style. Especially not when someone I care about is out there, hurting. Especially not when I was probably the cause of the hurt.

At the restaurant, we grab one of the large picnic tables outside and Dad and I go to place the family’s orders at the counter.

“Where did Everest go?” Dad asks.

I stop myself from making an annoyed sound. “I’m not sure. To cool off or something.”

“To cool off?” Dad echoes in confusion.

“He gets like this sometimes. He’ll come back.” He better. And quickly. Or else I’m going to scour every inch of the damn zoo until I find him.

While Dad gives the pimply teenager behind the counter our order, I pull out my phone to tap out a message, thumbs punching the screen.

Owen

What happened? Message me.

I stare at my phone, willing those three little dots to appear, but they stay stubbornly hidden.

Owen

At least tell me where you are.

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