Rewrite the Stars (bxb)

Chapter 5 Stolen Kiss

I ended up staying in the room for the rest of the day. I nodded off after my attack, and I didn't wake up until the sun rose the next morning. I'm surprised I didn't wake up when Peter left, but I must've been tired. My head faintly pounds, but other than that, I'm okay. I just feel exhausted.

At least I don't have jet lag anymore. That's a bonus.

I lay in bed until I feel like getting up, and then I do something I haven't done since coming here—shower.

I haven't felt comfortable enough to get naked here yet. Even if it's for a shower. I've had people come into the bathroom when I'm showering before, and that has ruined my trust in people not to come in. I hate people seeing my bare skin, my scars. I won't even let Colt look at me without a shirt on.

The hot water feels amazing, and I stand under the spray for what seems like minutes, but I'm pretty sure it has been half an hour.

When I get out, the steam has covered the mirror, and I quickly get dressed in the clothes that I brought in with me. I open the door and see Jax sitting on the bed. My heart skips a beat. My ipod is under the pillow.

"How are you feeling?" Jax asks.

"I'm fine," I say and hang the towel on the back of the desk chair. Why can't he just leave me alone?

"About what happened at the mall, do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not particularly."

"Orion's going to make you anyway."

He can try. My eyes go over to my pillow again. I have to get him away from the bed somehow.

"We're just worried about you."

"Well, don't be. I'm good. Nothing's wrong."

He gets up and walks towards me, stopping right in front of me.

I back away from him. "I'm fine, Jax. No need to worry. This happens all the time. I can handle it."

"You crying in the bathroom is 'handling it'?"

My face heats up. Yeah, no need to remind me.

"What exactly happened, Blythe? And don't tell me nothing."

"It's complicated."

"Something happened. It triggered your anxiety. You didn't want others to see you cry, so you went into the bathroom. It doesn't sound so complicated to me."

I expect him to start yelling at me now, calling me a liar or how I should suck it up, but he doesn't.

"If you ever feel like that again, just come get me. I'm not going to make you do things that give you anxiety."

I stare up at him, my eyes wide. "You believe me?" I ask, completely bewildered.

He looks confused. "Of course, I believe you. Why wouldn't I?"

I think back to mom always yelling at me about how I need to be more like an adult and how she never believed me when I used to tell her what happened. She called me a disappointment when I broke down at a fair and a bitch when I broke down when we were running errands. Back when I wanted help, I told her I wanted to see a therapist. She ignored me, and we never talked about it again.

"You know, my little sister has anxiety too."

I look up at him.

"When she's put in a situation that she can't handle by herself, she comes to get me. Well, she came and got me. Now I'm hoping my aunt can help her." He looks sad.