To Our Pinky Promises

Chapter 7

We were running for so long that I didn't think we were actually going to be able to outrun those guys but we eventually did.

I knew that Alex would've been able to outrun them easily since he was in the soccer team but I was a pretty lousy runner. He could've probably outran them 15 minutes earlier if he wasn't holding my hand and pulling me along with him.

So to put it simply, yes, I was deadweight and he basically carried me for half an hour as we ran.

The boys finally gave up as we turned a corner and Alex pulled me along for a few more minutes to make sure that we lost them before we stopped at a quiet alley.

When we finally stopped running, Alex let go of my hand that had turned clammy. Alex bent over, hands propped up on his knees as he tried to catch his breath while I staggered forward to lean on the alley wall, looking for something that can help support my weight, as my head became light and my knees started to go weak.

I could see black spots on the edges of my vision and I knew if I didn't calm down soon, I'll black out in the middle of this alley. I gasped for air and my hand flew to my chest as I felt it constrict painfully.

Alex raised his head and looked at me, noticing that something was wrong with me.

"You alright?" He asked as he kept his eyes on me.

I swallowed, about to answer, when I realized that the panic attack that was about to hit me wouldn't allow that. I nodded my head instead, letting him know not to worry as I tried to calm down.

I practiced the breathing exercises my therapist had taught me and focused on subduing the attack by telling myself that everything's going to be okay.

Silence consumed us as I kept my eyes closed to concentrate on my breathing. I let my mind imagine the expansion of my lungs as I inhaled and the contraction when I exhaled, picturing how it expands and contracts. I felt my chest rise and fall and focused on the rhythm. It took me some time to calm down, but when the black spots had gone away from my vision and the weight on my chest finally got lifted, the tense muscles in my body went lax and I crumpled to a crouch on the ground in exhaustion.

"Whoa," Alex's hand shot out to catch me, his body falling with mine, thinking I was about to fall.

He retracted his hands when he saw that I was okay, backing away awkwardly to respect our respective personal spaces. He stayed crouching, leaning his weight on the balls of his feet to keep a close eye on me.

My hands rested on top of my shoes as I bowed my head, hiding my face behind my hair, letting it act as a curtain. After gathering my courage, I finally raised my head to look at Alex who was watching me like a hawk.

I wanted to offer him a smile but I didn't feel like that was an appropriate gesture at that particular moment so I gulped and opened my mouth to say something. But before I could project my voice, he straightened up and got to his feet.

He ran his hand through his hair, twisting his body around to look at the direction we ran from.

"A simple thank you is enough." He said out of the blue, surprising me.

"If you're gonna say something like 'thanks but bla bla bla, save it. A simple thank you would suffice, don't waste your breath saying things you don't mean." He explained when he saw my lost expression.

My face flushed, catching the shade that he was throwing at me for my sassy behavior at school when he tried to help me.

The sad thing was, though, this was the most Alex has ever said to me in years.