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AFTER LEAVING THE spa with a fresh face, Sydney was still on edge after her panic attack. She was on edge like she couldn't get herself to relax. She didn't discuss it with any of the girls because she was trying to forget about it. That's usually what she did after having an attack, she just chose to forget about them. When she got back home, she walked inside her house and saw her father sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper. "Dad, I'm home." She announced.
Alexander lowered the newspaper and smiled at his daughter. "How was your girl's day, honey?"
"It was good." She answered and walked over to the fridge. She reached inside and pulled out a bottle of water. "I, uh, I definitely needed a day to myself."
"Well good, I'm glad. Makes me happy to see you forgetting about Michael." He went back to reading his paper.
Sydney rolled her eyes. "Miguel, dad."
"He broke my daughter's heart. He's whatever I call him."
She smiled slightly and walked over to sit with him at the table. "Where's mom?" She asked.
"She went to the store. We were thinking of making Bouillabaisse." He told her, the subtly French accent rolling off his tongue.
She released a heavenly sigh. "My favorite." She brought her nails to her mouth and started gnawing at them.
Alexander looked up again and narrowed his eyes. "You only chew your nails when you're anxious." He pointed out.
She immediately dropped her hand. "No, I don't."
He gave her a look. "Yes, you do. That's why you always have your nails done." He put the newspaper down on the table. "What's going on, amour?"
"Nothing. I'm fine," she quickly dismissed and looked at her hands. "Just noticing that I'm in desperate need of a manicure. I'll ask Sam if she wants to go." As she was texting her friend, she didn't get a response. She lifted her eyes and saw that he was still looking at her. "What?"
The corner of Alexander's mouth turned up. "You think I don't know the signs?" He inquired.
"Signs of what?"
"Your tense, your hands are shaking, your biting your nails. . ." He listed off. "Y'know, when I was in high school, I got panic attacks all the time."
Sydney's muscles stiffened even more than they already were. "Dad—"
"I played basketball. I was shooting guard, which meant I always had pressure on me. I couldn't mess up because if I did, then the whole team would mess up."
The familiar feeling of dread came back as she listened to her father's explanation. Her expression withered.
"I remember when I missed the last shot of the game, I went to the locker rooms and had a panic attack on the bathroom floor," Alexander continued. He laughed slightly. "I thought my team hated me. I thought my coach hated me. I thought my whole world was crumbling down."
