Kick was driving away, just like I’d feared she would. I’d tossed and turned all fucking night, scared as hell that she’d push me away permanently when we saw each other. That she was waiting to see me in person to do it. Then she showed up looking all nervous, and I fucking knew it. But then, she started trying to tell me about Nolan instead. What was that about? I figured she only wanted to push me away like she’d been doing for weeks, slap images in my head that would drive a wedge between us. She didn’t want to straight up break up with me, she wanted to make me do it by pissing me off.

Only, as I watched her go, I didn’t feel crushing pain in my chest like I’d expect, like the ache that had been building with her distance from me. No, I felt a distinct sense that something was off, that I’d read the situation wrong. It didn’t make sense for her to just take off like that on Thanksgiving Day, leaving not only me but my sister and mom too. Kick wasn’t one with a flair for dramatics, at least not emotionally charged ones like this. She’d belly-flop off a high dive for the fun of it, but she wouldn’t peel out of here like that, with no explanation.

And then it hit me. I hadn’t let her explain. I ran back in the house, grabbed the keys off the kitchen counter, and called to my mom I’d be right back as I flew out the front door again and into the minivan. As I wound through the neighborhoods, trying to catch her before she hit the freeway, I almost missed her car parked in the elementary school parking lot. Swinging into the lot, that crushing sensation in my chest hit when I caught a glimpse of Kick in the driver’s seat.

Her head was on the steering wheel and her chest was heaving, like she was sobbing or gasping for air, or maybe both. She didn’t seem to notice me pull up beside her. I hopped out and opened her door. She startled, her head coming up and showing red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. I crammed myself halfway into the seat and gathered her in my arms, accidentally causing the car horn to go off.

Kick didn’t protest as I unbuckled her seat belt, scooped her up, and plopped her down in one of the bucket seats in the minivan, kneeling in the space between the seats and refusing to let her out of my arms.

“Hey, hey,” I tried to soothe her. “I’m sorry, Fireball,” I said softly, stroking her hair. I didn’t understand her reaction. Not really. I’d been a little harsh, sure, but Kick wasn’t fragile.

“What’s going on, Fireball? I’m sorry. I was an asshole. I was upset. You’d been closing me out and when you showed up looking like you were about to tell me something I didn’t want to hear, I panicked. I thought you were trying to push me away permanently and I didn’t want to let you do it. And yeah, I’m upset about Nolan. That hurts. But you weren’t mine then, so I don’t have a right to be mad. I only found out last night so I’m still raw about it. I’ll get over it.”

Kick’s breathing started to slow to normal, and the tears stopped flowing down her face. “I had another freak-out panic attack thing,” she said. “Just now, while driving.”

“Another one? Like at the concert?”

She nodded. “Jack, please let me explain about Nolan, okay? I think that’s why I’m having them.”

A new fear washed over me at this. She looked out the window, away from me, and started talking.