Dayna felt a surge of incredulity through the haze, which quickly turned to irritation. Not all of us can emotionally process things in an instant, she wanted to say. Not all of us want to.
But there was too little air left to waste it on this, and she wasn’t sure the words would come out properly. Instead she turned and stumbled for the door. “I need air.”
In the apple orchard the air was cooler, fresher. Maybe it was getting out of the confines of the house, or the cold air woke something in her lungs. Whatever it was, it always seemed to help. At least a little.
It was also freezing, and she’d been too flustered to throw a jacket over her tank top before coming out. Dayna shivered, rubbing her arms, trying to push the feelings of annoyance down.
Reagan knew better than most about the OCD, so she should know Dayna wouldn’t handle this well. She should know better.
A moment later she felt guilt sink her stomach. Reagan had been just as affected by what they’d seen. It wasn’t like she, Dayna, was the only one allowed to be traumatized here. It wasn’t fair to be angry with Reagan.
She had to get herself under control. She hated arguing with Reagan, and it wasn’t okay that Meiner had seen her like this. The other girl was always so coolly unimpressed with everything. She’d probably think Dayna was a lunatic.
She sat beneath one of the apple trees and shut her eyes, placing one hand on the rough bark, running her fingers over the knots in the tree.
One. Tree bark, nicks, and grooves, trails from insects under her fingertips.
Two. The wind. Her hair on her cheeks, across her neck.
Three. A face. Pale, tormented, twisted in anguish.
Dayna’s eyes flew open, and she dug her fingers into the bark, ignoring the sharp pain as her nails bent back. How was she supposed to forget, when her mind only ever traveled in circles?
She shouldn’t count her breaths. Shouldn’t concentrate on how they entered and left her body, swelled and deflated her lungs. If they were deep enough, if they were long enough. The world was moving strangely, slowly. It felt like a dream.
“Dayna?”
She started. Her temple throbbed, and she realized she’d been tugging at the same strand of hair for the last few minutes. She let her hand drop into her lap, but she didn’t turn around. Meiner.
How ridiculous did she look right now, sitting on the ground, one hand on the tree like she was afraid she might be swept away?
The crunch of footsteps sounded in the grass, and then someone sank down next to her. “You all right?”
Maybe if she stayed still long enough Meiner would go away.
Dayna caught a whiff of laundry soap as Meiner climbed to her feet. “Hold on a minute.”
Now she was curious enough to crack an eye open, in spite of her spinning head. Meiner was on her tiptoes, reaching for one of the higher branches. She was wearing a formfitting black T-shirt and jeans today, and Dayna couldn’t help noticing how the gesture stretched her torso out long and lean, a bare strip of white stomach showing the top of one hip bone.
She looked away quickly as Meiner grabbed one of the apples with a noise of triumph. “How long have you been having these attacks?”
Dayna hesitated, gaze searching Meiner’s face. “Since I can remember. I—I was diagnosed with somatic OCD at fourteen. Stress triggers it.” She paused and then snorted mirthlessly. “Well, everything triggers it lately.”
“Here, stand up for one second. Hold the tree if you have to.”
Meiner was standing over her now. In one hand she held the apple, green, pockmarked with brown. The other she offered to Dayna, who took it, letting Meiner haul her to her feet.
They stood toe to toe now, and it was very apparent that Meiner was a good deal taller. Dayna’s heart was still beating hard. Her panic was there, but it was a distant pulse at the back of her mind, as if on layaway for later. She was grateful for the distraction.
Meiner slid her hand down, and Dayna felt the warmth of the other girl’s fingers lock around her wrist. Meiner’s face was serious as she pressed the apple into Dayna’s palm.
“Tell me three things about this.”
Her mouth dropped open. “How—”
“Don’t question it.” Her voice was stern, but one side of her mouth twitched the slightest bit. “Three things, Walsh. I’m not giving you your hand back until you tell me.”
Feeling a little foolish, Dayna closed her fingers over the apple. Staring up at Meiner, she was struck suddenly by the change in her. Yes, the other girl still had a temper, but she was beginning to show a different side, someone who could be more open. When Grandma King and Cora weren’t around, Meiner seemed like a totally different person.
She could feel her face flushing, and Meiner’s grip on her wrist tightened.
“Um, it’s round.”
“That’s a good start.” Meiner’s smile stretched wider. Dayna noticed her left canine was crooked.
“It’s…rough.” She moved her fingers over the surface of the apple. “It’s a cooking apple.”
“Good.”
Meiner had moved closer, and Dayna’s face felt hotter than ever. She had to tip her head back to look the taller girl in the eye. She was struggling to think about the apple and not the way Meiner’s lips curved.
“It’s—it’s—” she stuttered, and then finished awkwardly, “it’s an apple.”
“Very astute.” There was something sharp about Meiner’s grin. She was somehow cynical even smiling. “You seem distracted.”
Her eyes glittered as they met Dayna’s. Meiner was impossibly close now, and she hadn’t released her grip on Dayna’s wrist.
Dayna bit her lip, forcing herself not to look away, even though her face felt like a supernova. “How did you know to do the three things trick?”
“It’s how I used to deal.”
Dayna blinked at her. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the image of the tattooed and fiery-tempered Meiner panicking over anything. “Used to?”
“It never fully worked for me. Meds are more effective in my case.” Meiner shrugged and took the apple from Dayna before releasing her wrist, turning the apple over in both hands. “But I use both now.”
Dayna pursed her lips, stopping herself from saying, Meds are scary. Instead she said, “I froze, you know. When we found the—when we found Margery. I freaked out and Reagan had to do a protection spell, because I was too busy panicking.”
“That’s okay. It had to be horrifying.”
“But it’s not okay.” She shook her head, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “I’m supposed to be a full witch, but I was too panicked to even think straight. What if he’d really been out there? What if he’d come for Reagan, and I was too busy having a mental breakdown to help her? She’s ascended, but her power is at a normal level now, and she’s only one witch, and…and what if she’d died—”
“Hey, whoa. You can’t think like that. You’re both okay. You’re both safe.” Meiner frowned, eyes searching Dayna’s face.
Dayna could feel her face burning as she blurted out, “I feel like I’m just…always afraid. And I’m too scared to even try medication. I just…What if I’m not myself? What if it changes who I am, or makes things worse?”