Page 69 of Bad Crush
I don’t hear her walk onto the stage, but the next thing I know, she’s standing in front of me. “Breathe.”
She inhales through her nose and then holds it and lets it out slowly. I feel ridiculous, but I mimic her.
“Why do you want to be a doctor?” she asks and then continues breathing with me.
“When Ginny was little, she got trapped in a pantry closet at our grandparents’ house. She was fine, physically, but she was so upset by the time we found her she was having a hard time breathing.”
“She told me about that,” Reagan says.
“I was young, but not so young that I didn’t realize I couldn’t help her. It was an awful feeling.”
“So, you decided to be a doctor because you couldn’t help Ginny?”
“Well, that’s where it started anyway. Who doesn’t want to play Superman?”
“I don’t, but I’m glad there are people like you who do.”
“I can’t tell them that story, though. Ginny would be horrified. Also, I don’t want to be the guy who gives the downer speech.”
She laughs. “You could focus on the positive. Ginny was found, and she got the help she needed, thanks to a doctor.”
“Still kind of sappy.”
With an eye roll, she says, “Okay, then what do you have planned?”
“I was going to tell them about the time I broke my arm playing hockey. The bone was sticking out, and—”
Reagan squeezes her eyes closed and shakes her head. “Okay, never mind. Maybe I don’t want to hear the speech.”
I pull her against me and drop my mouth to hers. “Thank you for this.”
“For what?”
“Helping me.”
“I didn’t do anything, and you still didn’t practice your speech.”
“Do you know that when someone has a panic attack, the best thing you can do for them is stay by their side, talk calmly, and remind them to breathe?”
“You were having a panic attack just now?”
“No, but my point is sometimes helping someone isn’t flashy. Just being here with me, supporting me, pushing me to practice when all I want to do is kiss you until the bus leaves tomorrow afternoon, it helps.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Be my girlfriend.”
She doesn’t answer, but I get an amused smirk.
“I’m serious. I’m better with you. I really like you. This time is…. Fuck, I hate to say it’s different, but it is. And, yeah, it’s because you’re different, which I know you’re going to roll your eyes about, but you make me different, too. I have a good feeling about this.”
I’m sure she’s going to say no. I haven’t exactly made a compelling argument, but instead she says, “Yes.”
“Really?” I scoop her up.
She nods. “Yeah, really. You’re kind of hard to say no to. Kiss me, stud.”
“That’s boyfriend to you.”
