Living to Loving

Chapter 4

*Daniel POV*

I sit in my chair half-listening to people's stories, but thoughts are bouncing around in my head, and it makes it hard to focus. Gemma. She's damaged. Today was proof. She knows hurt, and my hope is, because of that, she won't hurt me. I told my friends I had the flu while I was in the hospital while they sorted out my meds. That was supposed to be only a day or so, but a day turned into three when they had to do more tests. Rina kept changing the subject when I would ask her what was going on. I didn't like the feeling that Rina was hiding something. It wasn't like her.

Harold recounts his story of his footlessness, anxiety, and how we can be like him. Then we go around the room. It's a lot like it was last time. People say the exact same thing, mostly. Only Jocelyn Harris' story has changed. She is now okay.

Then Harold tells us we have to go around the room stating our fears.

Anxiety builds up inside me. I have to find a way to get out of this. I can't say it in front of Gemma. That's just one more thing she could ruin me with. And she can't ruin me. That can't happen. Not again.

So we go around once more. Riley Fredricks fears blindness, ironic considering her disorder often causes blindness. Jocelyn Harris fears death, again, ironic for having cancer. David Snyder fears losing the people around him. Not too ironic. Lily Cadence fears imperfection. Kinda weird for most, but not for someone with perfectionist disorder. Gemma says she can't say how much she fears, there's so much.

Harold frowns. "Just say a few, Gemma."

Gemma shrinks down. "I'm good."

"Gemma, come on," Harold prompts. "Just one."

"No," Gemma says a little firmer. 

Harold keeps pushing. "Come on Gemma. This is a safe place. I promise you, no one will tell your secrets." 

Looking around the room, I find that hard to believe. 

Gemma sighs and glances at me. "Almost any PTSD triggers."

Harold nods. "And how can you get over your fears?"

Gemma shrugs and pulls her hoodie up over her dark hair.

Harold frowns. "Come on, Gemma. You can't hide from your fears."

Gemma doesn't say anything. No one acts surprised. I'm not even surprised. Gemma's not the type to talk much. I barely even notice her most of the time. "No," she says. "But I can hide from you."

Harold shakes his head. "We'll talk about this later, Gemma."

No response.

Harold shakes his head again and moves on. We continue around the circle. When it gets to me I suck in a breath and blurt quickly, "Oblivion."

"In what sense?" Harold asks.

I shrug.

Harold frowns. "Come on Daniel. You were so willing to share yesterday. Don't be like Gemma."

I shrug again. I don't really feel like sharing. Not after what Gemma said. 

"Please?" Harold pleads. "You're better than Gemma. I know you are." 

"What?"

This comes from Gemma, who's perked up.

"Ah, Miss Gemma," Harold says, a little awkwardly, like he knows he's treading on thin ice with her, and one wrong move could send him spiraling into an icy abyss.

"What did you say?" Gemma's voice has a fiery edge to it.

"Now, Miss Gemma, just hear me out-"

"Miss?" Gemma asks. "Miss Gemma? No, don't call me that. It's obvious you don't mean it."