Chapter 12 #2
I’m crying quietly, desperately trying to keep the despair out of my voice. “I went to meet Cullen, but I’m—I…” I trail off, my sobs audible now.
“Hudson? Love, what’s wrong?” The alarm in my mom’s voice cracks me wide open.
I put too much strain on my parents. They’re the most wonderful, selfless people I know, and they have to put everything on hold whenever my brain fractures into a million pieces. It’s why I push myself to excel at school and avoid making waves. It’s my way of trying to lighten their load.
“Mama,” I gasp.
I can’t get any air in my lungs, and my arms are tingly. I’m doing my best to stay focused on the road, more worried about hitting someone else than I am about my own life.
Why even try?
These attacks are just going to keep happening because I’m fractured. Cull sees it. And he doesn’t deserve a pathetic best friend any more than my parents deserve a broken son.
“Hudson, I need you to breathe,” she encourages, her voice warm and firm. “Where are you? Dad will come get you.”
“Driving,” I croak out.
I blink through my heavy tears, thankful that I recognize the houses I’m passing.
Almost home.
I turn onto the familiar corner and see our white-brick, traditional Southern-style house. Both of my parents are standing on the lawn, pacing, as I pull into the driveway.
My dad rushes over to my door and pulls it open. I swing my legs out and try to stand, but they give out beneath me. He just manages to keep me from busting my knees on the hard concrete, catching me in a bear hug to keep me upright.
“It’s okay, Hudson. I’ve got you.”
I clutch onto my dad, breaking down harder, ashamed of my failure to be normal.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m s-so sorry you have to p-put up with me,” I choke out.
He cradles my head against his chest and just holds me while I cry. “Shh, son. Don’t you dare say that.” His voice hitches, guilt shooting straight to my heart. “Your mom and I, we consider it our greatest joy in life to be your parents.”
I feel a soothing hand comb through my hair, followed by a kiss to the top of my head.
Mom.
“Let’s get you inside.” Her tenderness only makes the guilt seep deeper in my chest.
Sobs continue to shake my body, tears soaking into my dad’s shirt.
He shifts, sliding one arm under my legs and the other around my back.
My arms lock tightly around his solid neck as he lifts and carries me up the front porch steps and into the house like I’m a toddler, and not his eighteen-year-old son.
It’s not the first time he’s had to do this, but it always surprises me how easy it is for him. He might be in his mid-forties, but he’s as strong as ever.
We make it up the stairs and into my bedroom, Dad repeating a positive affirmation the whole way. “You’re strong, Hudson. Don’t forget that.”
I don’t know if I’ll ever believe I’m strong. I wouldn’t be having regular mental breakdowns if I were.
Dad carefully places me on my bed, and Mom kneels down to untie my laces, tugging off my shoes with practiced care. I’m still crying, though not as hard as before. My breathing is still stuttered, making my head feel like it’s floating away.
“Did your medicine not help?” Mom asks.
“I could-couldn’t find the bottle I keep in my car.” It hurts to speak, my chest too tight from crying.
She sits down next to me on the bed and rubs my back. “Maybe the bottle rolled under the seat somehow. You can check later, when you’re feeling better.”
“Okay.”
“Keep trying to take deep breaths, Hud. Your breathing is still uneven. We don’t want you passing out.” My dad mimes a deep inhale, and I follow his lead. It’s getting easier to pull in air now, and my body takes it in greedily.
Mom brushes my hair off my forehead, then wipes my wet face with her thumb. “What triggered your attack?”
My body starts to shut down, slipping into preservation mode after all the heightened emotion. I may as well admit what happened. There’s no point keeping it a secret. Numbness settles over me, and my voice comes out flat when I answer my mom.
“I had a fight with Cullen. He’s upset I never told him about going out with Ella. We both said some… things, and I know I didn’t mean what I said, but he called me pathetic, so I know he meant it.” Another tear slips down my cheek, and my mom carefully wipes it away.
“You and I both know he doesn’t actually think that, love.”
Cull wouldn’t lie. Not like me.
Dad walks over to my dresser, grabs the smaller of my two pill bottles, and shakes out a single small blue pill. He comes back and hands it to me, along with the water bottle I keep on my nightstand. I give him a weak smile, then swallow the medicine.
“I’m sorry you two had a fight, bud, but I’m sure you’ll work it out and let bygones be bygones. You’re thicker than thieves. I know you’ll make amends.”
“I hope so,” I mumble. My pill hasn’t had time to kick in yet, but my body is crashing after the fight-or-flight I just went through.
“Honey, let’s let Hudson get some rest. He’s had it rough today, and I’m sure he’s eager for a fresh start tomorrow, yeah?” Dad directs that last part to me.
I nod just as a large yawn escapes me. Dad chuckles and reaches for Mom. She lets him pull her up, then leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead.
My eyes are already halfway closed when Mom says one more thing before they go.
“When you feel better, I want to hear all about your date with Ella last night. Amy said you two made it official. I’m so glad you gave her a chance.
I knew you’d be perfect for each other,” she gushes.
“But for now, rest. I’ll check on you later this afternoon. ”
My response is to pull my weighted comforter up and over my head to block out the world.
Shame surrounds me, heavier than the blanket I’m curled under.
How many more people am I going to let down? When this farce with Ella ends, my mom will be so disappointed.
I guess that’s all I’m good for these days, though.
Disappointing everyone.