Carolina Days: Yesterday's Half Truths Part 6

"I want you to increase your water intake. If the carbonated ones aren't doing it for you, try slicing up a cuc.u.mber and putting half of the slices in your pitcher. Add a couple lemon slices if you're feeling adventurous."

"Experimenting with cuc.u.mbers and lemons, you are such a thrill seeker," she teases.

"I lead an extremely exciting life," I deadpan. "Yours is probably more exciting," I add.

She stares at me blankly for a minute, just blinking. "Kinda hard to out excite you, life-wise, since I don't leave my house."

"Ever?" I ask.

She pulls her lips into her mouth and shrugs.

"Why don't you?" I blurt, my curiosity overpowering the awkwardness of asking such a personal question.

She looks away, I start to speak, to attempt to apologize for prying, but her soft response stops me.

"People make me nervous."

My mouth drops as my brain hypothesizes what she must have dealt with to hide herself away, instead of subjecting herself to its possibility.

I don't know what to say.

She approaches the TV, a sad smile shadowing her otherwise pretty face. "See you next time."

Then, she's gone. My screen goes black. It's a moment before I can move. Her comment, a response to my inappropriate question, stunned me. I disconnect my tablet, taking it with me as I sit on my sofa. I don't even bother pus.h.i.+ng it back before I open a search browser.

What's it called when someone doesn't leave their house? I type. Hundreds of thousands of results pop up. I click on the first one. It's t.i.tled, Agoraphobia, an anxiety disorder. A person with agoraphobia is afraid to or experiences anxiety in leaving environments they consider known or safe.

The world can be a scary place. Remembering Lindsay's soulful blue eyes, I can't help but wonder what scared her enough for her to stop being a part of it. A scratch at my bedroom door pulls me from my thoughts.

"Coming," I call out, so Loki will stop scratching.

I take him for an early walk since I'm meeting up with Clay for dinner at his place tonight. Loki has more energy than normal, maybe a side effect of sleeping the afternoon away. It doesn't go as far as playing though; he gives me an almost disgusted look when I offer him a stick to fetch. At least I don't have to carry him on the walk back to my apartment.

After a quick shower, I head over to Clay's house. It's nice out so he's probably grilling. I don't eat a ton of red meat but I'll make an exception if Clay's grilling.

Maggie answers the door when I knock. I've always known Clay had a niece, just never met her until she moved in with them. She seems to be adjusting well, she went through a whole mess of c.r.a.p when her mom took off and some guy came forward to claim paternity.

Turns out Maggie's mom lied to the guy, milking him for cash over the years. n.o.body knows who Maggie's real dad is and her mom hasn't come back. Sure, my dad might have ditched us but looking back, I was blessed with my mom and the childhood I had. My sisters might be crazy but I wouldn't trade them for anything.

"Hey, Luke." Maggie grins, motioning for me to follow her.

"How ya doing, Maggie?" I ask.

"I got braces. See." She turns to show off her mouthful of metal.

"Look at that!" I exclaim, making her giggle. "When did you get them?"

"Last week. My mouth is still sore," she complains.

I ruffle her hair as we walk into their kitchen. "It'll be worth it in the end."

"I miss chewing gum," she mumbles.

Courtney turns from the sink, drying her hands on a dishtowel before walking over to kiss my cheek. "Hi, Luke, Clay's out back."

"Hey, beautiful."

"Stop flirting with my wife," Clay shouts through the open window.

"You shouldn't have married such a looker," I joke, making my way to the French doors leading out to their back deck.

Clay gives me a chin nod as I close the door behind me.

"Do you want a drink?" he asks, pointing to a bucketful of ice and beer.

I look through the options they have and grin when I see a cider he knows I like. "Thanks, man." I turn toward the kitchen window. "Courtney, can I help with anything?"

"Stop sucking up. She's taken," Clay jokes.

"I don't know," Courtney replies, joining us on the porch. "Maybe I should trade you in for a younger man."

Clay glowers as Courtney and I laugh. "Yeah, old man."

"Keep talking and neither of you are getting any steak." He points his tongs back and forth at us.

Rolling my eyes, I groan, "Fine, no more hitting on your wife. Just don't mess with my steak."

He shrugs. "Like I would ever mess up a steak."

I help Maggie carry the side dishes out to the patio table on their screened porch. Once we're all seated, I bring up Lindsay and her anxiety.

"So she never leaves her house?" Courtney asks, her forehead wrinkling.

"I don't think so."

"How does she get her groceries?" Maggie asks.

"She has them delivered."

Clay shakes his head. "That seems extreme, man."

Nodding, I look around the table, a perfect example of everything Lindsay is missing by locking herself away. "I want to help her."

"Why do you care?" Clay asks.

Even though his question seems harsh, I know he's only looking out for me.

"I can't explain it. She's just so funny. Her emails crack me up. The idea everything outside her front door scares her, makes me want to protect her."

Clay squints at me. "You like her."

"What?" I smirk. "I don't even know her."

He glances over at Courtney, his expression softening.

He reaches for her hand, lifting it and brus.h.i.+ng his lips across her knuckles as she blushes. "Doesn't matter, man."

My body was changing. I was only four weeks in to my websessions with Luke; but even though I couldn't so much see the difference, I could feel it. I had more energy than I knew what to do with. While Luke only wanted me to walk two miles a day at a level two incline, I was walking three. I emailed him to let him know and he seemed okay with the change.

It bothered me I wasn't dropping weight though. This week I had only lost one pound. It's better than gaining weight but there's no way I can go to the reunion looking like this. I've lost nine pounds overall and people say muscle weighs more than fat. While I don't dispute the logic, I didn't think it applied to me.

The extra energy is keeping me from becoming completely unmotivated; that and I like getting to see Luke twice a week. If I gave up, I would miss him. I know he's only nice to me because I'm one of his clients. It's still nice to imagine he cares about me.

He'd probably be thoroughly creeped out if he knew he's been starring in my dreams nightly. Ones where he tells me I'm beautiful exactly as I am and he'd never hurt or humiliate me. He'd probably drop me as a client if he knew I picture him as the hero of every book I download.

I have a compulsive personality; routine, structure, and control are what keep me from spiraling. When I first left school, I didn't trust anyone. I used my college savings to rent the little house I now own because I couldn't even handle my parents. Every single person on the planet was, in my mind, capable of hurting me.

My depression during those days was the worst it has ever been. It was while contemplating taking my own life that I decided if I never allowed anyone the opportunity to hurt me then I could live. Once the parameters of my safe existence were clear in my mind, I was able to consider living again.

People can argue the way I choose to live my life. I still am the ultimate decider in the end. I laugh to myself thinking of the scene from Pretty Woman when Julia Roberts says, 'I say when; I say who.' For me, the answer will always be never and no one.

Coco jumps onto my lap, b.u.mping my chin with her head before rubbing her head against my jaw line.

I stroke her back, her tail lifting each time I reach it. "We don't need anyone, do we?"

As usual, she has no answer for the questions I ask her. Either way, I feel better asking it. She's safe; by not being able to answer me, I never have to fear I won't like what she has to say.

I slowly spin in my chair and check my notifications. There's a new one from Sasha.

Rant incoming! Gino is an a.s.s. You will not believe it. He's been asking out girls on every floor of our building thinking none of us would find out about the other girls.

Shut up!!

I wish I were joking. Ugh! Why am I attracted to a.s.sholes?

I'm so sorry, Sas.h.!.+ What an a.s.shat.

Sad thing is I thought he actually liked me.

Gooseb.u.mps crawl up my arms as bile climbs up my throat at her words. Startling Coco, I franticly reach for my drink and gulp some down as my heart pounds. Was it her words, so reminiscent of the darkest period of my life alone, which caused my reaction? Or that the outcome of those days had so recently been in my thoughts?

I push away from my desk before standing. I need to feel clean. Even though I showered this morning and haven't done anything to justify feeling unclean, her words send me to my shower, stripping as I go. It's not until I'm standing under the scalding water that I can breathe again.

Thankfully, my work is done for the day. All I have to do now is pull myself together so I can be ready for my session with Luke. I remind myself I have all the control now. No one can hurt me. I'm safe here.

After my shower, I put on another exercise outfit. This one is much simpler than the failed first outfit I wore. It's loose fitting, something I never thought I would be comfortable wearing in front of someone as handsome as Luke. My twisted emotions have invaded the part of my brain, which cares if he thinks I'm pretty or not. So what if these clothes make me look bigger than I already am.

Pulling my wet hair back in a tight braid, I glare at my reflection, angry with myself for letting the pain resurface. Our training session isn't for another hour. To relax, I do a second web sweep for the day. When I get to Pinterest, I dive in searching for new style forward pinners to follow.

It's been a while since I've done anything drastic to my hair. Short styles are all the rage, but it's too much of a commitment for me. Maybe I'll color my hair. Brunette to caramel blonde ombre was huge last year. Lavender hair a la Kelly Osborne could be cute but already done. I need to come up with a different idea.

Losing track of time as I scroll through and pin pics, I'm almost late for my session. Either way my unscheduled surf break had its intended effect; I'm no longer distracted by the past. Right now I'm wondering how I would look with Jessica Rabbit red hair fading in to an orange blonde ombre. All I'm thinking is how hot that would look.

I hurry to connect my tablet to my TV, almost dropping it when Luke dials in. Pus.h.i.+ng the accept b.u.t.ton I try to compose myself.

"Hi, Luke."

He squints at me. "You okay?"

d.a.m.n. "What?"

"Your eyes are all red."

A to be expected side effect of crying in a super-hot shower. "I, um, have awful allergies."

"You went outside?" He sounds surprised.

I shake my head; that's just crazy. "I opened a window."

Frowning, he stares at me in silence for five nerve-wracking breaths before nodding. "Ready to work out?"

Feeling as if I dodged a bullet, I grin. "So ready."

This session is without a doubt more intense than the last two. He stops frequently though, to check how I'm doing. Sometimes mid-movement, he asks which muscles I feel working. Most of the time, he's pleased with my responses. A couple of times though, he frowns and has me correct my stance or movement until the muscles he wants are targeted.

Working out after my earlier breakdown is even more distracting than web surfing was. It's all Luke. As much as I crave control, turning off my brain and simply following his directions is more freeing than I could have guessed. My first a.s.sumption was if I wasn't actively controlling the direction of my thoughts, they could drift to unpleasant things.

Instead, my mind didn't have time to think about anything other than the pull of my bicep when I did a standing wall push, or the tightening of my core as I held myself up in a plank. Drenched in sweat, I grinned during our cool down stretches.

After that workout, there is no way I'm not getting a good night's sleep. Before disconnecting our chat, Luke starts to say something but I'd already pressed the b.u.t.ton and he's gone.

Smooth, Luke.

It's then I hear my cell phone vibrating in my bedroom. Loki s.h.i.+fts in his sleep but doesn't wake up when I walk in to check it.

Sorry about that, I didn't mean to cut you off.

There's no way I'm going to bring up the subject of thinking she should try leaving her house via text.

No worries. Just wanted to tell you to move the incline up one for the next week.

Will do. See you next week.

I toss my phone onto my bed in frustration. I had it all planned out until she disconnected the chat. I was going to ask her if she'd like to meet up in person for a session. Maybe I could help her work through her anxiety.

Flopping onto my bed, I land next to my phone. Why do I even care? I'm not a therapist. Who knows, I could screw her up even more. I just hate the idea she's missing out on everything the world has to offer. My phone goes off again making a m.u.f.fled buzz sound against my comforter.

I glance at the screen before answering; it's Sasha.