Long-Distance Calls

43

"Sometimes you can't breathe? Well, what do you mean, Pete?" asked my mom.

I sniffled before I zipped up my sweater. It was one of those days of early May when it was colder indoors than outdoors. Had I accepted Andrew's request to go out, I'd be warm in the cozy, gentle breeze of that evening with not one worry on top of my head, possibly. Except for the recurring worry of losing my integrity, that is.

But after that dreaded day, that worry was now long gone, subsided by yet another worry. And, dear Future, explaining what exactly the worry here was would take me several pages that I don't have and it would lead both you and me into the crippling grip of boredom.

And far be it from me to bore you, if I already managed to get you to read over forty entries of mine, so I'll simply tell you that my worry, that night, was a rounded one.

I was worried of my mother's reaction to what I was about to tell her. I was worried my routine would be shook after that night, and things would never be the same again. And, mostly, I was worried my mom wouldn't understand.

A lot of worries I tried to hide with a solid, deep voice and rested eyes. "I... well, I've had what you might call some panic attacks at school," I explained, "mom... things aren't going well. I've... I— I hate this school. Andrew changed, he— he tried to look cool to everyone else at school and in doing so, he rejected our friendship."

"What? What did he do?" My mother's eyes full of worry.

"He started making fun of me, excluding me from his group. It was hell. At first, I tried to ignore him like— like you've always said I should do. But it was no use... he just— he kept on going with this, and it looked like being friends with me since we were basically toddlers meant nothing to him. So then I started to react. And we were even called up to the principal's office at one point."

"You were? And why didn't I know about this."

"The principal called Andrew's parents because he was the bully in that predicament. And I decided not to tell you anything because I was afraid you wouldn't understand." I sighed. Still not a full breath. "But I'm telling you now. I just can't keep avoiding this anymore. I'm always so stressed out, so anxious, that sometimes I can't even breathe. I mean, it's weird, I can breathe, sure, but it's like the breath is unable to reach its end. And that leaves me breathless, and I have to yawn all the time."

My mom cleared her throat. "I've never heard of anything like this. What could that be?"

"I don't know, mom," I said, "but I can't do this anymore. I don't remember the last time I took a deep breath. And school sure isn't helping."

"I just can't believe Andrew would do something like that," my mom said.

"I couldn't believe it either. And I regret ever following him into this school."

"Listen Pete," my mom got up from my bed, "I think we should take you to the doctor."

"Now?" I asked.

"Yeah. I mean, maybe he'll be able to tell us what this is. You just tell him all the things you told me and how you feel, and he'll tell us."

"Alright," I stood up too. I didn't fancy going to the doctor that much. Especially since this was my first time to our family doctor, as my last visit was with the pediatrician. But I knew I needed an expert's word on it. And my parents needed to hear it. If only to believe that I wasn't okay.