Chapter 19

I have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t a date - friends go out for coffee together all the time, and that’s what this is. Wish my heart would understand that though.

I glimpse over the drink options, deciding to go for tea - I’ve never been much of a coffee person, way too bitter for me. Dray appears at the coffee shop door, waving excitedly to me as he enters. “Hi! Sorry I’m late, I was literally about to leave and then Mack called me worried about Zach and it was a whole thing.”

I sit up straighter in my seat, concerned for our friends. “Is Zach ok? What happened?” Dray sits down heavily, looking exhausted and stressed. “He’s fine, it was a simple misunderstanding and Mack thought Zach had been in an accident or something, he didn’t really explain? I just called Zach and he said he was fine, so…not really sure what happened there.”

He glances over at the board of drinks, deciding on which one to get. “That’s good then, I’m glad he’s ok. Will both Mack and Zach be at your party the weekend after next?” Ah yes, the party. Which I still haven’t said if I’m actually coming to or not.

“Yep, should be, unless something goes dramatically wrong,” he says with a grimace, going to order his drink. When he sits back down, velvety black coffee in hand, with only a dash of cream on top, he smiles apologetically.

“Sorry, I invited you out today for a nice chill time, but instead I’m just talking about stressful things.” I put up my hands to stop him, shaking my head. “It’s really ok, it’s nice to talk about a range of stuff anyway.”

We’ve shared a lot of things with each other, things which are difficult to say. Or at least, I have, and I know he wants to tell me about some things, whatever they may be. But today, today we ignore all of that. The point of today is to relax and chat about meaningless things.

So we do just that.

We talk about a range of things until we land on his party. Dray talks about all the plans he’s put into place for it; like I’ve mentioned before, he’s popular, and has a lot of friends. “A lot of my friends from sixth form and uni are coming, so that’ll be nice - it’s been an age since I’ve seen them!”

“Did you go to college and uni in Cambridge then, or somewhere else?” I ask, sipping on my lavender tea. It’s really good.

“I went to sixth form there, yeah. But, I came out to my parents right before starting uni, which was deliberate - I went to London for university, so then if my parents ended up reacting badly, I wouldn’t have to see them for a while anyway.”

He fiddles with the handle of his mug, before shaking his head again. “Sorry, I managed to bring this back to a serious talk,” he sighs, staring into his mug. His parents definitely didn’t react well then.

“It’s fine, I really don’t mind. So uh, we’ve never talked about it actually - why did you become a teacher?” Dray glances up at me, smiling gently. “Oh, well, I’ve always liked music, but I didn’t want to teach an individual instrument, rather the subject as a whole. So that’s what I did,” his light laugh twinkles around us, and I smile slightly.

“That’s really cool. Oh, what instrument do you play? I didn’t see any at your house that time.” Dray leans forwards on his elbows, smirking. “Oh Fyfe, I play many instruments. Couldn’t fit an entire band in my living room though, so I leave them at school.”

I lean forward also, I mean - just how cool can this guy get?! “Seriously? That’s so cool dude,” I sit back, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Wow, Fyfe Ardis called me cool? I can die happy now,” he says with a cheeky grin. I uncross my arms, playing with the zip of my leather jacket. “I’d rather if you didn’t, I’ll rescind my comment about you being cool if it makes you live longer,” I smirk across at him.

And unexpectedly, Dray blushes slightly. Or no. Maybe it’s just the lighting. But it looks, at least to me, like he’s looking a little more pink in the face than previously. “Mm no, keep calling me cool, maybe if you do I’ll survive by the sheer power of my coolness.”

I grin, nudging his leg with mine under the table. “Wow, how very cool you are indeed,” I say with another smirk. Are we flirting? I honestly can’t tell. Or maybe we’re just being friendly, but like, who flirts like this? If this is flirting, it’s the weirdest kind I’ve ever done. And I’ve flirted with my fair share of people.

Our strange flirting-maybe-not-flirting thing comes to an end when Dray’s phone goes off, and he has to take the call. He stays in his seat for the call, and I try and avert my ears, tuning out the sound of his voice by instead thinking of much more fascinating things, such as counting the bricks on the house opposite us.

Like I said, thrilling stuff.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry Fyfe, I totally forgot I’m supposed to be cooking dinner for Daxa and her husband Dean today, can we do this again another time though?”

Dray doesn’t know what kind of mistake he just made, but he sees it instantly. The way my eyes go wide, and I stand up quickly. “Fyfe, what’s wrong? You’re shaking, is it- is it that headache thing?” He asks quietly, and I nod before leaving the café as fast as possible.

I don’t look back, and I don’t stop walking until I’m at my car, which is parked a few blocks away, climbing inside, I quickly send Dray a one-word text, saying ‘sorry’, before calling Ailsa. She picks up immediately, thank God.

“Hey Fyfe, what’s up?”

“Episode,” is all I groan out, and she understands instantly. “You’re not…having a flashback right? No that’s stupid, you wouldn’t be talking to me if you were,” she muses, her tone calm and steady. I shake my head, before remembering she can’t see me.

“No, not- not yet. I just got triggered,” I breathe out shakily as I lean back against my seat. “Want me to distract you? Or be quiet so you can focus?” She asks, anxiety creeping into her voice ever so slightly.

Ailsa hates when I have an episode or flashback when she’s not around - it makes it so much harder for her to help me. “Just…keep talking to me, please. Tell me about a new tattoo or something,” I say quietly, opening my eyes just enough to put her on speakerphone.

Ailsa does as I ask, and calmly describes a new tattoo she was doing on someone, going in to massive detail as she paints a picture with her words for me to imagine. It helps me to focus on one thing, imagining what this tattoo looks like.

I keep breathing deeply, paying attention only to my sister’s words, until the incessant booming inside my head slows to a dull thudding, before eventually fading away altogether. “The tattoo sounds gorgeous, Ailsa,” I say quietly, sitting forwards and resting on my steering wheel.

“Thank you, you’re a real angel,” I tell her, smiling slightly. “You did really well, Fyfe.” I sigh, rubbing my eyes slightly. “You remember when this happened in Daxa’s restaurant?” I ask, and she hums in response.

“Well, it was because she said that name, the one I can’t stand. Well, I was with Dray, and he said it again. Turns out, that guy is Daxa’s husband. I need to get used to hearing it,” I decide, my mind already made up.

“Fyfe, that’s great and all, but…how are you going to even do that? And should you really be pushing yourself that hard?”

To answer her question, no I absolutely should not. I’ve been pushing myself, hard, a lot recently. I’m opening up to people. I’m trusting people. My paranoia has gotten a lot better around those I know. People can touch me more because I’m having fewer episodes. It’s been ages since I had a flashback, and even the memories are getting easier to deal with.

I’m at a crucial point in my recovery, and I could fuck it all up by pushing myself further. So, I shouldn’t even think about trying to do this. But, a part of me really wants this. I want to be able to meet Dray’s family, which includes Dean. And if I want to meet them, I need to not freak out at the mention of a name.