Page 896 of One More Kiss

One Day

Kristie Leigh

Tate

The vibrationsof the music were almost soothing as I rested my head on the handicapped bathroom stall door.

"Tate?" My roommate, Victoria's voice was somehow soft, although she had to yell to be heard.

It was Friday night, the weekend after finals, and we were at The Edge, a club-style bar downtown. I knew better than to go out, but I wanted to. I wanted to be normal and heading to a bar after finals was what normal college kids did. They went to bars. I wasn't normal. I knew that, but I was trying.

"Tate, just tell me if there's anything I can do," Vee begged from the other side of the door because I wouldn't unlock it.

I wouldn't let her in. I wouldn't let anyone in. My walls were a mile high, and anxiety overruled everything in my life.

I took in a shaky breath as I tried to calm myself. "I just need a minute." The hot tears were beginning to burn my cheeks. My chest rose and fell jaggedly as I struggled to gain some sort of composure.

"If it's too crowded here, we can leave." She was trying, but I was drowning."Go somewhere else, maybe? I heard there's a cute wine bar down the street. Whatever you want."

I shook my head although she couldn't see me. "I just…need…a minute."

The door I was leaning against pressed against me as she leaned harder into it. This was what we did. I sat on one side, and she sat on the other. Bars. Restaurants. Dressing rooms. Gyms. Everywhere my brain decided to go into full-blown-chaos mode. My anxiety had no bias. There was nothing she could do. There was never anything anyone could do.

“You have a chemical imbalance,” my mother used to tell me.

It was just her and me growing up. My dad flew the coup before I was born, or so she said. She wasn't even entirely sure who he was. I was the product of a drug-induced country music festival fling. Honestly, I was surprised she chose to have me at all if I were being real. The way she backed out of things from jobs to boyfriends was like no one I'd ever seen.

I took a few deep breaths, and I stood up. Once in front of the mirror, I pressed my palms into the sink and stared back at myself, silently giving the girl in the mirror a pep talk. It never worked, but I'd never stop trying. The thick layer of mascara Victoria had insisted I wear was running black down my cheeks. I splashed some cold water onto my face and wiped it off as best I could, my breath still uneven.

"Tate? Come on. You need some air. Let's go outside."

My hand shook as I threw a paper towel into the garbage. "I don't want to ruin your night." My words were choppy as I tried to calm myself. "You and gauged ear man looked like you were having fun."

Humor was my default. I was fine, see? I was joking around. That meant I was fine.

"I care more about you than some shaggy-haired guy with eyes you could get lost in with a Pete Wentz smirk and Damon Salvatore's jawline."

I couldn't help but laugh at the dreamy way she’d said it.I opened the door.

"Oh, honey." Her expression fell. "No. No, I’m taking you outside." She put her arm around me and pulled me through the club.

I held my breath as we snaked through the crowd. Yeah, I needed to get out of there. I was a mess.We stopped abruptly when her hottie stepped in front of us.

"Where are you going?"

Damn, he did look like Damon Salvatore. I felt like such a shitty friend.

Vee tightened her arm around me. "My friend doesn't feel well."

He nodded once, looking over at me. "Drink too much?"

Apparently, I just lived too much.

"She just needs a minute."

I looked up at him. "But she'll be back, don't worry." I had to cut in.

Victoria's eyes turned on me. "Tate—"

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