Don’t think.

Don’t feel.

I close my eyes and step out into the dark. I keep walking, feeling the pathway beneath my feet give way to grass and weeds. Charlie’s tags jingle. He’s close by, running up ahead and waiting for me to catch up.

When I open my eyes again, I’m staring into the dark valley below. I sit on the ground and try to steady my breathing.

Don’t think.

Don’t feel.

Wyatt was my friend. He helped me deal with my issues and was the first person after I broke up with Nora who didn’t try to bullshit me into believing shit was going to be all right. That I’d just wake up one day and be cured of the nightmares that plague me and the crippling feelings of that day repeating over and over and over again would go away.

For two years, I went to that group. Every Thursday, I’d get in my Jeep and drive into the next town to sit around in a circle and bring up the shit all of us worked hard to bury.

Because of Wyatt.

He encouraged us. Made us feel normal. Let us know we’re not alone.

And now he’s gone, life taken by his own hand.

Charlie comes over, pressing his head against my chest. He knows. He always knows.

“Thanks, buddy.” I put my arm around him and he lays down with his front paws in my lap. I pet him, and my racing heart starts to slow. We stay like that until the cold from the ground seeps into me and my legs become stiff.

Charlie perks up when headlights draw near. I grab hold of his collar and get up, ignoring the ache in my calf muscles from sitting still for so long. A car door opens and shuts. Charlie pulls forward, tail wagging. I let go of his collar and he races around the house to Nora.

“Jack? Are you outside?”

“Yeah, I’m coming around.”

Nora’s standing under a pool of light, face illuminated. Her eyebrows are pinched together. “I don’t see you.”

I round the corner of the house, and as soon as her eyes focus on me, she rushes forward. I didn’t know how much I need her arms around me until they are.

“I’m so sorry.”

I wrap my arms around her slender body, chin resting on top of her head.

“Thanks.”

Her hands slide into mine. “Let’s go inside.”

The front door is locked, so we have to go around to the back. There’s not a path connecting the driveway to the back, and Nora’s wearing heels. She holds tight to my arm, picking her way carefully over the uneven terrain.

We sit in the living room, and with Nora on one side and Charlie on another, some of the tension leaves me. I release the hold I put on my emotions, and the realization that Wyatt killed himself hits me hard.

“I just saw him. He was supposed to be better.”

“I am so, so sorry, Jack. Is there a service for him?”

“Family and close friends only.”

Nora grips my hand. “Do you know why?” she asks softly.

“He struggled with depression as well, and had a really bad night with flashbacks. His wife found him when she came home from work.”

“Oh my God. That’s awful.”

“It is.” I grind my jaw, not able to stop my mind going to Nora being in that situation. I was never suicidal, but there are other ways I can snap. If Wyatt could slip so far back he doesn’t see a way out, what hope is there for the rest of us? He led the fucking group. He was supposed to be the most well-adjusted of us all. I know there is no cure for PTSD. There’s no real ‘getting over it’. You can manage the symptoms and hope to live a normal life.

“Jack?” Nora whispers, after sitting in silence for several minutes. “What’s going on up there?” Her fingers brush over my forehead. “Talk to me.”

I swallow hard and nod. “I thought I was getting better too. What if I never can?”

“You already have.” She pushes up on her knees and straddles me. “Look at everything you’ve built—literally built. You’ve come so far. You might have bad days and even worse nights, but I’ll be here, ready to remind you that it’s just you and me, and the visions aren’t real.”

I slide my hands up her back and let my eyes fall shut. She’s right. I know she is. Yet the same voice that owns the darkness doesn’t agree. It whispers to me, then pops like a gunshot, so loud my ears ring. I hold Nora tighter.

“It’s not easy, and it’s not fair.” Her hand goes go her necklace. It’s a strand of pearls that once belonged to her grandmother. She looks up at the ceiling for a moment and then tips her head down to mine. “When it gets dark, look for the stars. Stars can’t shine without the darkness,” she whispers.

“I still don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what?”

“Keep going no matter how hard it gets.”

“Mimi,” she starts, voice tight with emotion. She takes a moment to recover, blinking back her tears. “She told me if the road is rough you keep walking. Tough times don’t end the journey, you keep going and going, eventually, you’ll find something worth stopping for. I did.”

“What was it?”

“You, you dummy,” she says with a smile. She blinks, and a tear rolls down her cheek. “It’s always been you.”

* * *

I get out of the shower and towel off, then walk naked from the bathroom to my bedroom to get dressed. Nora is downstairs making breakfast. “Free Fallin’” echoes up the stairs. I pull on boxers and PJ pants and head downstairs. The ache in my heart from losing someone important is still there and will be for a while, but I’m feeling better, and it’s all because of her. I want to keep going.

I had a nightmare last night. Nora and I were at the winter formal. We were our present selves, but everything looked the same as it did when we were teens. “Crystal” came on—just like it did back then—and I was going to propose to Nora.

And then Jason came in, opening fire on everyone.

Nora woke me up before any bullets hit her. The last thing I remember from the dream was using my body as a shield. My heart was racing, and the smell of blood filled my nostrils. She pulled me back, reminding me it wasn’t real.

She’s real.

I’m real.

We’re real.

Together.

I don’t know what I’d do without her, and I hope to God I never find out. She makes me a better man. I pause at the bottom of the stairs, watching her dance along to the music as she cooks. She’s wearing one of my button-ups and looks so beautiful.

“Morning, babe.”

Nora turns away from the stove, eyes lighting up when she sees me. She’s making scrambled eggs and has bacon cooking in a skillet next to it.

I stand behind her, slipping my hand under the button-up. Nora leans against me.

“How are you?” she asks gently.

“As okay as I can be. Better now.”

She stands on her toes to kiss me. “Good. We’ll get there. Together.”

“It smells amazing in here.”

“I hope it tastes good too. I already made pancakes and stuck them in the oven to stay warm. I’ll do them last next time.”

“Next time.”

“I like the sound of that.” She puts her hand over mine, lowering it between her legs. I sweep my fingers over her clit, feeling her heat through the thin material of her panties. She groans, wiggling her ass against my cock.

“Breakfast is ready,” she breathes, shutting the burners off. “Want to eat and fuck me on the balcony?”

“In that order?”

“I am hungry.”

My lips go to the back of her neck. “You are every man’s dream.”

She twists in my arms, hooking hers around my neck. “Too bad only one man gets me.”

I lift her up and set her on the island counter behind us. “It’s so fucking hot to know I’m the only one who’s owned your pussy.” She leans back, spreading her legs.

“Do you want it now?”

“Fuck yes.”

She bites her lip and touches herself. “Make me come, Jack.”

I go to kiss her, and she stops me, pushing my head down between her legs. I take one of her legs, straighten it out, and trail kisses down the inside of her thigh, putting my mouth over her pussy, warming her with my breath. She lifts her ass off the counter so I can pull her panties down.

They’re around her ankles when someone knocks on the door.

“I swear to fucking God, if that’s Alice again,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Maybe she’ll go away if she thinks you’re not home.”

“Even if she doesn’t, I’m not answering the door.”

“Works for me.” Nora grabs the collar of my shirt and pulls me back to her. Then whoever is on the porch knocks again. My lips are on Nora’s when someone calls my name.

Nora tips her head. “Is that—”

“My mom. Yeah. What the fuck? She’ll go away too.”

The knocking turns into pounding. “Jack!” Mom calls. “Are you home? Jack! Jack!”

“She sounds worried.” Nora moves off the counter. “You have to answer.” Her eyes go to my hard cock. The tip sticks out of the top of my waistband. “Do something about that first.”

“I was going to.”

The pounding on the door continues, and now my dad calls my name.

“I’ll get it.” Nora pulls her underwear back up. “Go pay a visit to the toilet like old times.”

“Really?” I laugh.

She buttons a few more buttons on the top of my shirt. “I told you I’m never letting that one go.”

I get a glimpse of her ass as she hurries away, which isn’t helping my situation. I call Charlie and go outside on the patio, flexing my thigh muscles to try and kill the boner. I should have grabbed a handful of ice cubes on my way out. Charlie follows me, and then turns around and runs through the house when he hears the front door open.

“Traitor,” I mumble and start walking toward the shed. I should open it up and air the small space out. I put on the final coat of sealer yesterday and want to give it a once-over before calling Alice’s dad to tell him to get the fucking thing out of here.

Thinking about Alice helps shrink my dick. I unlock the shed and pull back the doors, getting hit with a wall of warm, chemical-smelling air. The doors swing open, banging against the sides of the shed.

I steal a glance behind me, not able to hear anything being said. My dick is back to limp now, and I hurry into the house. Nora is standing awkwardly in the foyer with my parents. She’s holding the sides of my shirt down. It barely covers her supple ass. Dammit. I can’t think about it right now or I’m going to be in the same awkward situation.

“Jackie!” Mom calls, hand flying to her chest.

“See, he’s fine.” Nora flicks her eyes to mine, giving me a help me look.

“What are you guys doing here?” I ask.

“You didn’t answer your phone and I was worried.” Mom looks at Nora and then at me. “I’ve been calling you since last night.”

“Oh, shit. My phone is dead. The battery was low and I, uh, forgot to charge it.”

Dad keeps his eyes on the ground. “You’ve been busy.”

Nora inches away. “I’m going to put pants on.” She steps back and then jogs up the stairs.

“You and Nora?” Dad asks. “Again?”

“Yeah.” Can I tell them to leave?

Mom raises her eyebrows. “I see that dinner date the other day went well.”

I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah. It did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrug. “I didn’t think about it.”

Dad blinks, shaking his head to rid himself of the shock. “I can see why.”

“James,” Mom scolds.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen her, but she has grown up, and I must say you have great taste, son.”

“Gross, Dad.”

“Is it serious?” Mom closes the front door. So much for getting them to leave.

“We’re not getting married tomorrow, but I guess so.”

Mom beams. “She always made you so happy. You even look happy now!”

“That’s probably because he just got laid.”

“You’re really overstepping here, Dad.”

Dad laughs, and Nora comes back down the stairs, wearing a pair of boxers. She stands next to me, and some of the most awkward seconds of my life tick by.

“I just made breakfast,” Nora says to break the silence. “There’s plenty if you want some.” She’s offering to be polite, and expects my parents to say no. But she doesn’t know my mother like I do.

“Sure! I haven’t eaten since last night. I was too busy worrying about my son who wouldn’t call me back.”

Nora shoots me an apologetic look. I squeeze her ass when no one is looking, eager to get back between her legs.

“There are pancakes in the oven,” she says, getting plates out of the cabinet. “They’re done. I put them in there to stay warm.”

We all get a plate and go into the living room to eat since the table is covered in sketches I put together yesterday for a new project. As soon as I step foot into the living room, I cringe. So does Nora.

Her bra and dress are on the floor, along with all of my clothes from yesterday. We fucked on the couch, and it’s painfully obvious. The four of us can’t fit on the couch anyway. Mom perches on the edge and Dad brings in a chair from the dining room.

“How have you been, Nora?” Dad asks.

She finishes chewing a piece of bacon. “Pretty good. I graduated recently and now I’m trying to decide if I should get a job or go right back for my masters.”

“Where did you end up going to school? You got into a few good ones, right? Doug told me a while ago. It was Berkeley and Brown, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah.”

I turn to her. “You got into Brown?”

“Yeah, but Berkeley was still my first choice. I figured I’d be a good demographic for the Ivies and applied to Brown and Harvard. A half-Latino foster kid isn’t their typical admission.”

Mom laughs, eyes going from Nora to me and back again. “I like seeing you two together. Granted, I prefer you properly dressed.”

“Mom, you came over unannounced to my house.”

“If your phone was charged it wouldn’t be unannounced.” She looks from me to Nora. “How long are you in town, honey?”

“I have to go back in a few days, but I’m, uh…” She looks at me. “I’m considering moving back home for a semester or two before grad school. I’d save money on rent, and Stephanie would be thrilled.”

“Really?” I ask.

Nora pushes her eggs around her plate. “Yeah. There’s no guarantee I’ll even get into grad school, so trying to find some sort of job here makes the most sense. And rent isn’t cheap, even with a roommate.”

“Do you think you’ll actually go back if you take a year off?”

“It’ll probably be harder, but yes. I’ll have more opportunities and get higher pay with my master's in engineering.”

Nora hadn’t mentioned any of this to me before, and I can’t help but think her sudden change of heart has to do with yesterday. She knows I need her.

“Jack?” Mom says in a tone that makes me think it’s not the first time she said my name.

“Yeah?”

“How’s the chuppah?”

“Done. Want to see it when you’re done eating?” If I can get them outside maybe they’ll leave.

“Oh, I’d love to!”

Nora’s phone rings, silencing the Tom Petty songs playing in the background. She grabs it, staring at the number with a bit of confusion.

“It’s the place I interned at this past semester. I’m gonna take it, sorry.” She puts the phone to her ear and goes into the office. A minute passes before anyone speaks.

“It seems like you’ve picked up right where you left off,” Dad says.

“Kind of. We thought it was better to take things slow.”

“Slow?” Mom points to the bra on the floor. “That’s slow?”

“He’s an adult, Laura.” Dad shakes his head.

“He’s still my son, though maybe this means I’ll have more than a grand-dog in the near future.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“I won’t.” She winks. “Is Nora able to come to the wedding?”

“She thinks so.” I eat the last piece of bacon on my plate and get up to give Charlie the small portion of eggs I saved for him. I put my plate in the sink and turn to go back into the living room with my parents. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nora. She’s standing in the threshold of my office, looking down at her phone.

“Babe?” I stride over. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost. I told you, this place isn’t haunted.”

She smiles, but her eyes don’t convey humor. “I just got off the phone with Jeff, my boss from my internship.”

“And?”

“They want me back as an intern for the rest of the summer.” She looks up into my eyes. “And there might be a position opening in the fall. Someone is having a baby and doesn’t think she’ll come back. If I stay with them for a year, they’ll pay for me to get my masters.”

“That’s great,” I say, taking my turn at forcing a smile. It is great. Really fucking great. It’s a great opportunity, giving her experience and then possibly a job with a company that’ll pay for her to get her expensive master’s degree. I should be happy. I should celebrate.

But all I can do is slink back into the darkness.

* * *

I turn my head down and rub my eyes. Nora left half an hour ago and I’ve been trying to work. I told her I was all right. That I was upset but dealing and work would be a good distraction.

I lied.

All I’ve done is stare at my computer, watching the dark shapes meld into the image of dead bodies, and I’m not even drawing the mermaid zombies. I’m trying to draw the rocks along the shore behind them.

Rocks.

Fucking rocks.

I blink and look back up, forcing myself to take a deep breath. They’re just heaps of browns, grays, and blacks. There is nothing lifelike about them. I need to suck it the fuck up and do my job. I don’t get paid until I turn in a project.

I add another layer and start working on the reflection of the rocks in the water. I make it fifteen minutes and the rocks are bodies slumped in the hall again. The smell of gunpowder fills the air and I lean back, squeezing my eyes closed.

It’s not real. It’s not happening. I want so badly to tell myself, but I can’t. I just can’t. My mind is betraying me, yanking me back into the abyss yet again. No matter how hard I look, I cannot see the light.

My hand goes to my head, fingers pressing hard between my eyes as if it can keep the flashback away. My heart hammers and the screams start to echo around me. My scar starts to itch and burn, and I can feel the blood pouring down my side.

The pain of being shot.

The fear of thinking I’m going to bleed to death.

The agony of knowing I’ll die a slow and painful death while listening to the entire school get slaughtered by my best friend. But this time, I’m not alone. Nora is standing in the hall, calling my name. I open my mouth to tell her to run, but only blood pours out.

Everything else is exactly how it was that day. Exactly. And I remember it all. There was a bulb out in the light at the end of the hall. Someone flushed a toilet inside the bathroom near the gym when I stepped out, only a second before I saw the gun in Jason’s hand. The teacher he shot in front of me was wearing a long yellow skirt with little daisies along the hem. Her glasses broke in two from the force of the shot. Her blood splattered on a poster behind her. It was navy blue with bold white letters, using elements from the periodic table to spell out Be Ni Ce. The bottom corner was torn and there was a broken pencil on the floor underneath.

When I get this deep into a flashback, I don’t know if my eyes are opened or closed. I don’t know if it would make a difference. I can’t feel my body except for the pain in my side and the ache in my heart. I don’t know if I’m sitting or standing. All I know is how fucking paralyzing it is to have this endless loop play again and again and again.

Charlie’s wet nose presses into my hand. On his own, he’s learned when I’m having a flashback and comes to me, trying to pull me out. He jumps up, putting his front paws in my lap. I curl my fingers into his soft fur.

My vision starts to come back and my ears ring like they did that day from the shots being fired in close range. My throat is thick, and the smell of blood lingers in the air, making me nauseous.

My heart is still racing, and it will the rest of the day, exhausting me long before night falls. Though when it does, and I lay down to sleep, my mind will start whirling again, throwing guilt and shame at me so I can’t sleep.

And then I’ll wake up and do it all over again.

Charlie softly whimpers, and I lean forward, wrapping my arms around the big dog. I exhale, body trembling from the inside out making it impossible for me to stop it. I’m on high alert and can’t just sit here. I get up, striding to the door. It’s too hot to run, and my mind, only half-functioning, tries to come up with ways to cope.

I know I need to go grocery shopping. That’s as far as I can think ahead. I don’t know what I need to get at the store or remember to grab my reusable bags from the kitchen. Only half aware of what I’m doing, I get my keys and drive.

I get into town and realize I have no memory of driving here.

“Fuck,” I mumble and turn into the library parking lot, trying to think back. My mind is blank. I don’t remember if I locked my front door. Or even if I closed it. I don’t remember merging onto the busy road to get into town, and I don’t remember a single stop light.

I could have hit someone. Caused an accident. Driven off the road. I turn the Jeep off and lean back, eyes falling shut.

I want to call Nora. I need to hear her voice. But I don’t want to worry her. She went home to get new clothes and to have lunch with Stephanie. Needing to work anyway, I told her I’d call when I was done, but it wouldn’t be for several hours.

I do need to work.

Time is money, and I’m not getting paid to freak the fuck out like this.

The feeling that something bad is about to happen grips me hard, making it hard to breathe and even harder to function. I can’t call Nora, but I need to talk to someone. I haven’t had a flashback of this magnitude in a while, but if I did, I’d call Wyatt.

But I can’t because he’s fucking dead.

His own flashbacks got to him.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He couldn’t see the light.

And now he’s dead.

My chest tightens even more. I want to go home, but I know I shouldn’t drive. I try to inhale and can’t. The walls are closing in around me and my ears start ringing again. Someone walks across the street, and I catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye.

It’s Jason. I see Jason. I should go to him. Stop him. Beat the shit out of him for what he’s about to make me do. I grab onto the steering wheel, fighting against myself. I want to fight him. I want to run away.

And a very small part of me is screaming to wake the fuck up but I can’t, and I won’t. I’m forever stuck inside this fucking living nightmare, damned to have the worse day of my life drop down on me like a ton of bricks without warning, trapping me under its weight, crushing me until there’s nothing left.

My phone dings and the sound of the text message coming through startles me. I jerk up, vision fuzzy, and reach for my phone. I blink a few times to focus my eyes before I’m able to read the text. It’s from Nora and let out a deep breath.

Nora: I love you. Just wanted to remind you :-) I hope you finish your work soon. I was thinking about last night and it made me want you. Now. I might have to ‘pull a Jack’ and pay a visit to the toilet.

I don’t know how she knew exactly what to say to bring me back to reality. Instead of remembering blood and pain, I’m remembering Nora’s tight pussy around my dick. I’m remembering the taste of her on my lips and the feel of her heart beating against mine.

I read her text twice and am able to breathe again. I’ll still be on edge the rest of the day—at least—but the panic attack stopped before it started.

And it’s all thanks to Nora.