“Like how did I come to exist or . . . ?”
“Funny.” I sat down next to him on the bench and he closed his book—still Hamlet—and set it beside him. “Did someone bring you?”
“I took the bus.”
“You took the bus for me?”
“I take the bus for everything, so don’t analyze it too much.”
“Too late, I’ve already analyzed it.”
“What have you figured out?”
“That I promised to teach you how to drive. I should’ve made it a rule.”
“You and your rules.”
We met eyes then, seeming to both remember the rules I’d made before: no attachments, no kissing. We were still good on both fronts. His gaze hadn’t left mine. Weren’t we?
“How is Jeff?”
I blinked, looking away from his intense stare. “What?”
“That’s where you were, right? At the hospital.”
I nodded. “Jeff’s mom texted me last second and I had to go. He was asking for me.”
Dax’s shoulders went tense, but he said, “That’s good.”
I tried to figure out why Dax might not like that news. Why was he saying the opposite of what he was feeling? “He’s still in pain, I guess. And will probably have to do physical therapy. So it will be a while before he goes home.”
“Are you spelling out how much longer you need me around?”
“I . . . no. We’re friends, right? You can . . .”
He gave a breathy laugh, stopping me short. “It was a joke.”
“Oh right.” I leaned back against the bench. “But anyway, I was going to stay away from the hospital tomorrow, because it’s Dallin’s day.”
“Dallin . . . the guy who blamed Jeff’s accident on you.”
“Right. I wanted to give him his time, but Jeff asked me to come. Made me promise. So I feel like I have to.”
He leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees, and seemed to think. After a minute he said, “So you’re trying to deal with anxiety by acting like you don’t have it.”
“What?”
“You know the hospital will stress you out tomorrow, especially with Dallin there.”
“Yes.”
“But instead of staying home for your own mental health, you’re going to go there because someone else is expecting it.”
“I can’t stop living life.”
“It’s not something you want to do. You’re worrying about someone else’s emotions instead of your own.”
“Either I’d be sitting at home worrying about Jeff wondering why I wasn’t there or I’d be at the hospital worrying about Dallin being mad at me for being there.”
“Because you haven’t told them. If you told them you had an anxiety disorder, they wouldn’t wonder when you didn’t show up for things or had to leave things early. And you wouldn’t worry about them. They’d understand. They’d feel better and you’d feel better.” He held up his hands and shook his head, like he was mad at himself for something. “You know what? Never mind. It’s none of my business.”
I let out a frustrated breath. “No. You’re right. I’ll tell them.”
“Now you’re just saying that because you think I’m mad.”
“Are you?”
“It doesn’t matter, Autumn.” He put his hands on my cheeks. His hands were freezing. “Figure out what you think.” His eyes went back and forth between mine. My temperature seemed to rise a couple degrees. “Figure out what you want,” he said again, softer.
And then he was standing and walking away, and I just sat there and let him, not even offering him a ride. Maybe we both needed some space anyway. So we could follow the rules.
I pulled my knees up onto the bench with me, his words swirling in my mind. What he’d said made sense. I thought back to all the times even in the last couple of months when I went places to please others despite what I knew it would do to me—basketball games and parties and maybe even hospitals. It’s not like I wanted to stop doing those things altogether, but I needed to read my own emotions better, not leave things after I freaked out but before. Stay healthy. But I didn’t need to tell my friends about my anxiety in order to do that. I just needed to be better about standing up for myself. About not doing things I didn’t want to do.
I slid my legs down to the floor and went to stand up when I saw Dax’s book still sitting on the bench. He was long gone. I’d just give it to him at school the next day. I opened it up, curious, and sure enough the letter was still there. I read over the address again. Salt Lake. His mom lived that close and he hadn’t seen her in years?