I tried not to harp on it inside my mind—I really did. I tried to get myself all worked up over what shirt to wear with my black jeans and what shoes would be best with the whole thing. I even picked up the phone ten times to call Bethany for help, but I didn’t dial. If I did, she would definitely hear the panic I was feeling right through the phone, and then she’d be over here five minutes later. I didn’t want her to come. I wanted to do this by myself. I told Travis I didn’t need help, and I was determined to do it all on my own even if that meant going up to Mayra’s house to meet her father.
Mayra’s father was a salesman of some sort. I wasn’t sure exactly what he did for a living, but I knew what his hobby was—hunting. He even went to the mountains and hunted bears. He was often pictured in the local newspaper with a kill of some kind, and he was very well known and respected around town.
He had to have a lot of guns in the house.
Shit, shit, shit.
Okay, so I knew he wasn’t going to shoot me, but what if he hated me? What if he thought I was weird and told Mayra she couldn’t go out with me? He would probably want me to shake his hand and look him in the eye as well. If I didn’t do that,
he was bound to think something was wrong with me.
What had Mayra already told him? Did he know I had panic attacks, that I freaked out in school on a semi-regular basis or that I hit a heavy bag when it got to be too much? Would he be worried I would get mad and hit Mayra?
I would never, ever do something like that, but what if he thought I would? What if he asked me about it, and I hesitated? I would certainly hesitate because just thinking about the potential question was enough to start me freaking out again.
I tossed on one of the shirts in my hand and shoved my feet into my black and white Converse. I couldn’t think about what I should be wearing right now. Then again, clothing probably counts as far as first impressions go, and he would notice what I was wearing. I tossed the blue shirt back into the drawer and grabbed the green one.
Hunters liked green, right? I didn’t own anything with a camouflage pattern on it.
By the time I was out in my driveway, sitting in my car, I couldn’t even turn the key in the ignition. My palms were sweating. My head was throbbing, and my eyes were starting to tear up.
“Don’t do this; don’t do this,” I whispered to myself. I tried taking a few deep breaths, but they ended up sounding like gasps instead. I placed my left hand on my chest and pushed against my sternum. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to help myself breathe normally or just keep my insides from escaping. I tried to get my right hand to turn the key, but it just wouldn’t listen.
I glanced at the clock in the car. I would have to leave pretty much immediately to get to Mayra’s house on time.
“No, no, no,” I muttered. I tried the key again, but my hand was shaking too much to get it to turn.
Change the scene, I remembered my therapist telling me. If things get to be too much, do something differently.
I got out of the car and started pacing back and forth in the driveway. I ran my hands over my face, trying to calm myself. I just had to go over there and meet him—that was it. Sixty seconds of How do you do? and Mayra and I could be off on our date.
Date.
I had only managed to keep myself together regarding the date itself because the idea of meeting her father was so completely overwhelming. Before Mayra’s call, I had sufficient distractions, and I did like the idea of seeing her even if the setting was different. Besides, Bethany had given me a lot of ideas about things to talk about during the drive. I had never asked Mayra anything about the soccer team just so I could save the conversation for tonight.
Maybe she could just come over to my house instead.
No, I made reservations at the restaurant.
Shit, shit, shit.
I pressed my fingertips into my eyes as I leaned against the car and tried to convince myself that it was normal to be nervous meeting your girlfriend’s dad, and I didn’t have to worry about it.
Girlfriend?
I spent a couple of minutes wondering if that was the right word or not. I thought it was. I mean, she came over almost every day, and she kissed me. I was pretty sure that made her my girlfriend, but I probably ought to confirm it with her.
That is, if I could even get to her house.
“You’re being stupid.” I growled at myself as I got back in the car. I gritted my teeth and turned the key. The car roared to life, and I managed to put it in reverse, but I couldn’t take my foot off the brake.
One step at a time.
I closed my eyes and tried breathing slowly again. All I had to do was drive over there. It wasn’t even that far, and I drove most of the way there when I went to school. Of course, I hadn’t been driving myself to school lately since Mayra had been picking me up.
Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I eased my foot off the brake and backed out of the driveway. I continued to concentrate on the act of driving to Mayra’s house rather than what would happen once I got there. The drive over was difficult, but I had done it before, and I focused on using my turn signals properly and staying exactly at the speed limit. Of course, as soon as I got to her house, I just drove past it.
The mere idea of stopping was mind-numbing.