Inescapable Escapism

My fork froze just above a piece of gnocchi, and I looked around the table again. The thought of eating whilst everyone else waited made me so uneasy, but I had to do it. I couldn’t ignore a direct instruction. That felt even more scary. I took a deep breath before spearing one of the potato dumplings and began to lift it. The herby breadcrumbs that the dish had been coated with clung to the sauce, but a few fluttered down, the movement strangely reminiscent of snow.

Pausing again for just a second, I took another deep breath before taking a bite. The moment the food touched my tongue, my discomfort was forgotten. It was so hot it almost burnt my mouth, but I didn’t care at all. The deliciousness far outweighed any pain it was making me feel, and I immediately stabbed another piece and shovelled it into my mouth.

The creamy sauce was so thick and rich, and the crumb, whatever it was, was perfectly salty and garlicky. I had to eat more. I couldn’t stop myself. All worries about being rude slipped from my mind as I let my eyes shut, savouring the flavour.

More waiters appeared carrying the rest of the food, and my eyes darted around them, searching their faces as anxiety fluttered in my heart. But the waiter who’d flirted with me before wasn’t there, and I was kind of glad. His presence worried me, and I hated that. I didn’t want to be anxious. I just wanted to have fun and celebrate with my team.

Aurora rubbed her hands together eagerly as a waiter placed a large bowl in front of her, and I leaned forward slightly, trying to get a better look at her food. A slight flare of jealousy pulled at me, but I batted it aside. It was ridiculous. I could go to La Lieux pretty much whenever I wanted. I just had to remember to order whatever Aurora had next time.

What did she order, though? I wracked my memory, trying to recall the name of the dish, but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, it remained a blur. Too many people had been talking at once, and I’d been distracted. Athena had been paying too much attention to making sure people were ordering, and Aurora and I had tried to take advantage of that distraction by stealing one of the bottles of wine from the centre of the table.

It hadn’t worked, obviously. Athena took her job as team captain far too seriously. According to her, the title meant she was in charge of everyone’s safety both on and off the pitch. She was too observant, too smart, and I was pretty sure we’d never successfully be able to trick her, but it was still fun to try. Plus, we’d both be old enough to drink soon. Aurora was only one year away, and I was just two.

“What did you order?” I asked, giving up on trying to remember.

“French onion orzo,” she answered excitedly as she took a bite and sighed. “Wanna trade some? I almost went for that. It sounded so good. I mean, how do you even make a garlic bread crumb? Is it just… blended up garlic bread?”

I laughed, looking down at my plate and nudging the breadcrumbs with the tip of my fork. So that was what the flavour was. It had been vaguely familiar, but I hadn’t quite realised that was what it tasted like. I’d just been too distracted by how delicious it was.

“Yes!” I cried, pushing my plate towards Aurora. “I have no clue, but it’s really tasty. Here!”

Aurora’s smile grew as she reached out and took some of the gnocchi out of my bowl, pushing hers in my direction. I scooped up a forkful, managing to get it almost to my mouth before the small mountain began tumbling down. Luckily, most of the orzo managed to land in my bowl, and I quickly shoved the rest into my mouth before any more could fall.

An appreciative noise slipped from my mouth as I chewed, relishing the savoury, almost meaty flavour. I’d had French onion soup before. They used to serve it at La Lieux, and Aurora had told me I had to try it, but I didn’t remember it ever being that good. The next time we visited the restaurant, I was definitely ordering the orzo, I decided.

“Okay,” Aurora said. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Confusion washed over me, and I stared at her, trying to work out what she was talking about.

“Nothing… I don’t think?” I replied unsurely.

“Great! Now you are. We’re doing all three meals here, and I’m getting the gnocchi for lunch and the orzo for breakfast and dinner.”

I laughed, drawn in by her plan. I wouldn’t mind doing the same thing, but maybe I’d switch the order and get the gnocchi for breakfast and dinner and the orzo for lunch. They normally had a different breakfast menu, but I hoped they’d changed it too. Sometimes, they had some weird stuff on there. It wouldn’t surprise me if we could get one of the dishes for breakfast.

“Done,” I told her. “That’s so good. I’m definitely going to order it at some point. How did they manage to get it to taste so similar to the actual soup?”

Aurora stared down at her plate, an almost adoring expression on her plate.

“I don’t know, but the day La Lieux took their French onion soup off the menu was a dark day for all of humanity,” she said in a sombre tone. “I have mourned it ever since.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. The look of genuine heartbreak that appeared on Aurora’s face when she’d discovered they were no longer serving it was kind of funny. I was sad for her, obviously. Apparently, it was her favourite dish of all time, but she’d said that about more than a few things in the past.

“Oh, I remember,” I muttered, causing Aurora to smirk at me.

She didn’t reply, though. She was too busy eating. I grinned as I returned to my food, carefully picking out the pieces of orzo that had fallen into my bowl before starting on the gnocchi again. Somehow, the more of it I ate, the more delicious it got. Aurora was right. We needed to visit again soon. Maybe in the morning.

The conversations around the table gradually grew louder as the bottles of wine began to empty. It was nice, in a way. The volume was almost deafening, but being surrounded by friends who were all talking so animatedly made my heart ache. I wished I could experience it more, even if Astoria’s shouting made me jump too often. She made sure to smile at me every time, but it was still startling.

“No way!” someone cried, their voice far too loud for the room we were in.

My body tensed, and my eyes darted around the room as my heart began to race. It was just my team, and I knew that, but it didn’t make me feel much better. I was too warm, I realised as I leaned forward to take another bite. Some of my hair slipped over my shoulder, and I had to freeze, pushing it back before it went into my food.

Irritation sparked within my stomach. Why hadn’t I tied my hair back? That was a mistake. I should have known it annoyed me when I had it down and at least brought a scrunchie or something. That would have been the smart thing to do, but I hadn’t even thought of it.

My annoyance grew as more hair fell forward, and I tucked it behind my ear quickly. The movement caused the dry ends to trail on my exposed bicep, and goosebumps erupted on my arm as a shudder rushed through me. My hair was clinging to the back of my neck too, I realised. The thin layer of sweat coating my skin made me sticky, and I hated it. It seemed like I could feel every single hair, and the sensation made me want to scream.

Why was I even sweating? It was a little warm in the room we were in, but it wasn’t unbearable. I was just overheating for some reason despite the thin dress I was wearing. That wasn’t helping my growing irritation, either. The thick waistband pressed uncomfortably against my stomach for no reason. It was my size. I knew that for certain. I’d bought it recently, and I’d only just started eating. I couldn’t be bloated already.

Or maybe it was the tights. I didn’t always wear them, but I’d decided to for some reason, and I was painfully aware of how much of a mistake that had been. The scratchy material seemed to pull at my skin any time I moved, and it was making my legs itch. They didn’t normally. I was usually completely fine wearing tights, but suddenly, I wanted to rip them off.

The dress too. The thought of pulling them both off right there in that restaurant was so tempting, but I knew I couldn’t do it. My entire team was there, and they’d see. Not to mention the photographers outside. I needed to keep my clothes on until I got home.

But the thought of having to stay in that outfit for the entire night sent desperation clawing at me. There was no way I could do that. I’d be distracted and irritable the entire time. I needed to do something. Maybe I could head back to my apartment whilst everyone else headed to karaoke after the meal. Then, I could meet them there once I’d changed into something less uncomfortable, and I’d be able to have fun.

I sucked in a breath. The thought of telling people that I needed to go home made my chest feel tight. My throat did, too. I tried to take another deep breath, but it seemed like nothing really happened. No air went into my lungs, and something was steadily wrapping around my torso, making it impossible to catch my breath.

Was I having an allergic reaction? Was that what was happening to me? It did feel like my throat was swelling up, and there was no other explanation for that. My eyes scanned my dish before moving to Aurora’s. What had I eaten that was causing the effect? It didn’t seem like there could be anything in either of the meals that I hadn’t had before, though. They both seemed pretty normal.

“Okay, but what about Thursday?” Tatiana cried, her voice breaking through my terrified thoughts and making me jump.

“Absolutely not. I—” was all I heard of Athena’s response before she was drowned out by someone else whose voice was even louder.

“But he’s definitely hotter now, right?” Heia demanded, looking around the table for backup.

Her eyes fell on me, and I felt my panic spike. She was looking at me for a response, but I had no clue who she was talking about. I hadn’t heard the first part of the sentence, and I had no clue how to reply.

My body took over, and I shrugged. The movement felt strange and unexpected, but Heia didn’t question it. She simply threw her head back in exasperation and groaned loudly before turning to Astoria.

I watched them arguing for a few seconds, the noise washing over me. I wasn’t taking any of their words in, but somehow the familiarity of it made me feel a little better, and I sucked in a deep breath, feeling the band around my chest loosen ever so slightly. I was being ridiculous. I knew that. There was nothing wrong with me. I wasn’t having an allergic reaction.

It was just anxiety. That realisation surprised me. Obviously, I’d experienced anxiety before, but it had been a while since it had been that bad. In that world, at least. In my real world, it happened more often, but it was fine. Everything was going to be completely fine.

“And I’m just saying—” Rhea started, causing my head to snap around to watch as Nina interrupted her.

“No,” she said firmly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to force everyone on the team to get matching tattoos on their necks.”

“It doesn’t have to be on their necks,” Rhea argued. “It could be anywhere!”

“My answer is still no. That is not something we’ll be doing.”

“And his brother, right?” Heia continued, her voice rising above the rest. “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

Astoria sucked in a deep breath, her expression bored.

“I don’t care,” she said flatly.

“He’s about my age,” Heia mused. “Maybe a year or two older, but that’s fine. I think we’d be great together.”

“He’s in his fifties.”

“We could go on Friday before practice,” Tatiana wheedled, causing me to look at her again, intrigued to hear what she was trying to convince Athena to do. “If we leave at four, we’ll be back before anyone even notices!”

“Personally, I think it’s a great idea,” Aurora agreed with a wide, innocent smile as her hand crept across the table.

“It’s a horrible idea,” Athena told them. “And put that bottle down.”

Aurora released the bottle of wine she’d been inching across the table towards her and sighed heavily before pouting in my direction.

Next time, she mouthed, and I smiled at her halfheartedly.

I felt barely aware of anything that was going on. Too many conversations were happening simultaneously around me, and they were all too loud. I could barely hear myself think over the noise, and that made it impossible to join in, causing my panic to return as my mind began to race. I didn’t want to just sit there dumbly and not say a word. It was ridiculous. There was no point in me even being there if I wasn’t going to join in at all.

But how? How was I meant to do it? I longed to. I wanted to be able to talk and have fun like the others, but it felt like my mouth was clamped shut. No words could escape, and I wasn’t even sure what I would say if I could. How was it so easy for everyone else, but I was struggling so much?

My hand tightened around the fork as my palms turned slick, and it threatened to slip from my grasp. I could barely feel it, though. The warm metal cutting into me seemed distant and hazy as the world began to spin. Was I leaving the world? Or was I just slipping further and further into my panic?

Had I gotten a taste of what it was like to be normal and have friends but couldn’t handle it? Was that the issue? I was in a world where I had friends. There were lots of people who seemed to love me and enjoy spending time with me, but I couldn’t do it. There was something wrong with me.

It was all my fault. The real me. I was so out of practice, so not used to being around people, that my brain couldn’t cope with it. It couldn’t keep up, but that was just me. It was unique to the real me. The version of me who’d lived in that world before I showed up had been fine.

I had so many memories of team dinners, I realised. At first, I’d found them scary and overwhelming, but then I got used to it. Having people around and having to keep track of so many conversations got kind of… fun. I was even good at it, but then it had all changed. All because of me.

A realisation shot through me as I felt my body move again. My mouth opened as I spoke, but I didn’t hear any of the words. The reaction was clear. Pride shot through me as laughter spread around the table. Even Athena was smirking, and that just drove my point home. It was my fault that I’d almost had a panic attack there. That version of me wasn’t like that. She was better than I was, and my being there was ruining everything for her.

She was fine. In fact, she was better off without me, and I knew that. If I stayed there, things would just get worse for her. I would continue to make things worse for her, and I didn’t want that. I could see it happening already. She was beginning to revert back to the anxious person she’d once been, and then what would happen to her? The real me, the one riddled with fear, would never be able to set foot on the pitch. I’d never be able to play the sport I loved so much, and then what would happen?

My stomach cramped as a wave of guilt so strong it made me nauseous slammed into me. I had to leave. I couldn’t stay there when my presence was ruining someone’s life. That version of me had worked so hard for everything she had. It would be so selfish of me to rip it away from her just because I didn’t want to stay in reality.

A knock shattered my concentration, and I felt myself slip away from the world. The room blurred around me as I blinked frantically, worried that my mom was about to throw the door open. I had to be ready. I needed to be able to answer her when she spoke, and it felt almost impossible, but there was no alternative.

“Come in,” I called out, my tone a little too high-pitched.

As the door handle began to move, my gaze landed on my phone lying on the bed before me. My hand shot out, shoving it under my backpack, needing to get it out of sight before my mom saw. It felt unlikely that she’d say anything, but if she did decide to look through it and noticed the message Harry had sent from Duncan’s phone, I’d never be able to explain.

She wouldn’t believe that Harry had been the one to send it. She would assume it was just an excuse Duncan had made because I didn’t reply immediately, and no matter what, she would be annoyed or judge me. I wanted to avoid that if possible. It shouldn’t be too hard, I assumed. Things were scattered across my bed, making it look less like I was trying to hide anything.

Surprisingly, I’d finished with my second suitcase and had clearly moved onto my backpack. I must have tipped everything out of it and begun sorting the content into groups. It was a little surprising to see the sheer amount of trash I had been carrying around, including a pile of broken hair ties that I didn’t even remember shoving into my bag.

“How’s it going?” my mom asked as the door swung open.

It was phrased like a question, but her tone made it seem more like a demand. Her eyes searched the room, seeming to be looking for something specific. Clearly, she was suspicious of something, but I wasn’t sure if it was just how I’d acted earlier or if there was a new reason she didn’t trust me.

“Pretty good,” I replied. “Just need to finish this. Then I’ve got a few things to grab from the bathroom, and I’ll pack the rest in the morning.”

My mom’s eyes narrowed as they focused on the stuff scattered around me. My heart thudded painfully as I waited for her to demand to see my phone. Finally, she spoke.

“Good. Make sure you do.”

I nodded, unsure what else to say. Silence stretched over the room, and I felt a flutter of anxiety in my stomach. It was painfully similar to how I’d felt in the other world before I’d left, and I hated it. The urge to do something, to say something, reared within me.

“How’s your packing going?” I asked.

Her lip curled, and she stared down her nose at me.

“I finished yesterday.”

“Oh, great,” I said flatly.

That was a lie. I knew it was. I’d seen into her room earlier today, and there were clothes scattered on the floor. She just wanted to be better than me, to sound better than me, and I didn’t care. The desire I’d felt to keep the conversation going had disappeared, and I looked down at the things on my bed, waiting for my mom to either say something or leave.

“Well, it’s getting late,” she said after far too long a pause. “You should get some sleep soon otherwise, you’re going to be a nightmare to wake up in the morning.”

I almost rolled my eyes at her. I had to fight not to do it, and I only just managed to win. That was why she’d come into my room. She just wanted to make sure I was doing what she’d told me to do and to remind me yet again that we were going out early.

“I know,” I replied. “I’ve already set my alarms, and I’m going to get ready for bed after I’ve finished with this.”

My mom’s eyes narrowed even further.

“Good. Make sure you don’t snooze them. It’s a lazy habit for weak people.”

“Okay.”

It was all I could say, and it felt like too much. Snoozing an alarm wasn’t a lazy thing to do. I didn’t think it was, at least. It was just… something that happened. Not everyone could awaken fully alert and ready to get up. It was hard sometimes, and even she hit snooze occasionally. I’d heard it.

There was another moment of silence, and I began to carefully slide a book into my backpack, looking for something to do so I wasn’t just sitting there awkwardly. I could feel my mom’s eyes on me as I moved, and the urge to ask her what she was looking at threatened me.

“Alright,” she said after far too long. “I’m going to go to sleep now. Make sure you do the same soon, and don’t spend too much time on your phone. It’s not good for your eyes!”

“I won’t,” I replied, trying to keep the relief that she was leaving out of my voice. “Sleep well.”

“You too. Love you.”

“Love you too.”