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Aelwyn is fighting off a panic attack the first time she really talks to Ayda.
She’s in a closet, and — doesn’t really want to examine it, that much, but it feels appropriate for her situation in a way that tightens her chest even more. She listens to the sounds outside of the closet; the Bad Kids had decided to invite the Seven Maidens (along with several of their plus-ones) to a party at Mordred, and Sandralynn and Jawbone had conveniently decided to visit Garthy in Leviathan for the night. It was honestly going fine, before all this; the girls took her under her wing, and she’d spent half the night giggling with the Maidens over Fig and Gorgug shredding on their respective instruments, and Kristen moping in a corner, high and missing her girlfriend, and Adaine drunk, for the first time in Aelwyn’s presence.
Before she left, Katya and Antiope had been dancing clumsily but sweetly, and Zelda was making eyes at Gorgug, and Sam was drunkenly giving her some speech about how pretty Aelwyn was, but in, like, a way that she worried no one else saw, and Penny was singing at the top of her lungs with Danielle to whatever pop-punk nonsense the band was playing, and Ostentatia had called for a game of Spin the Bottle.
She doesn’t even know how it started; one minute she was rolling her eyes at Fabian and Riz’s awkwardly earnest and blushing attempt at a bottle-mandated kiss, and the next one end of the bottle was pointing at her and the other was pointing at Sam, Penelope’s other ex-best-friend, and then now she’s in a closet trying not to hyperventilate more than she already is.
She’s desperately trying to think of all the tricks that Adaine and Jawbone have taught her about breathing exercises when she sees the door crack open just a tiny bit, and Ayda’s brightly colored hair light up the dark closet as she walks in.
“Hi,” Ayda says to an Aelwyn who’s already standing up and in a fighting position before she realizes it’s not someone who’s trying to hurt her.
She slides back to the ground again. “Oh. Hi, Ayda,” she says. “Not the best time, so if you’d like to leave, that would be appreciated.”
“You’re having a panic attack,” Ayda says, sitting down next to her and taking her time to arrange her bird-like legs into a criss-cross position.
“I’m not, Ayda, but I would like to please be left alone at the moment,” Aelwyn says, keeping her eyes on the ground so Ayda can’t see her red eyes.
“It’s alright if you are. I’ve learned from Adaine that the telltale signs of a panic attack are shallow breathing, crying, and fidgeting, and you are exhibiting all of them.” Aelwyn says nothing. “Would you like anything from me? Adaine says I can be quite helpful during panic attacks. She says focusing on the flames in my hair is calming for her. She also says that my presence is calming, but it is really her that is calming to me, and I think that her calming me means that I can be calming to her. Does that make sense?”
“Ayda, I —” She looks up to see that Ayda’s looking at her with such furrowed eyes that it occurs to Aelwyn that maybe Ayda genuinely wants to help, and, furthermore, might actually be able to help.
She lets out a breath and looks at the ceiling. “Fine, Ayda. I was having a panic attack, but now I think I’m all better. I should really get going back out —”
“No. Your eyes are still red, and from what I’ve learned from Fabian, it’s not becoming to show weakness like that. I’ll stay with you for another few minutes, if you’d like.”
Aelwyn smiles. Of course Fabian would tell her something like that. She rubs her thumbs under her eyes. “Okay. Fine. A few minutes, then.”
Ayda leans back against the wall and mirrors Aelwyn’s pose. “You know, Fig says I’m very good to talk to and a good listener.”
Aelwyn definitely does not want to talk about her problem. “Okay.”
“If you’d like, you can tell me what’s wrong.”
Aelwyn does not want to talk about her problem, because if she says it out loud that makes it sort of real. “I can’t.”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
Aelwyn does not want to talk about her problem, because if she says it out loud it becomes real, just like in the Nightmare Forest, and if it’s real it’ll bring everything down on itself.
Just like in the Nightmare Forest.
“I can’t,” she says, and it comes out almost a sob, and she has to press her thumbs back under her eyes again just to make sure that the tears don’t ruin her mascara even more than they already have.
“Alright,” says Ayda, and pushes the palms of her hands down on the ground on either side of her thighs.
They sit in silence for a minute.
“It’s just — I’m lonely,” Aelwyn says, and feels about ten tons of pressure melt away from her shoulders. “I’m lonely, and Sam keeps wanting to talk to me, even though I hurt her — so bad — but I want to talk to her too — and I want a friend, and she’s just so perfect for me, and I can’t stand knowing that I hurt someone like Sam, and I can’t stand thinking that she might want to be my friend anyways, and I can’t stand not being her friend because she’d be a perfect friend, and — and —” she’s crying again, but makes no effort to stop it.
Ayda is looking at her, concern wrinkling her eyes and mouth. “You would like to be Sam’s friend, despite the harm you and Penelope caused her together.”
Aelwyn nods.
“And you think she would like to be your friend as well.”
Aelwyn nods again.
“I see. And this causes you distress?”
Aelwyn closes her eyes. “I don’t — I don’t know why she wants to be friends with me.”
“And this scares you? You believe she might have ulterior motives?”
“Maybe,” Aelwyn shrugs. “Or maybe she’s just — willing to forgive me, for some fucking reason.”
“And you don’t feel as though you deserve that, to be forgiven.”
Aelwyn shakes her head.
Ayda presses a hand against her knee. “Adaine has told me of how you were manipulated. She says you deserve to be forgiven. And if anyone would know such a thing, it would be the one you hurt the most. So if she, who you have hurt more than Sam, both quantitatively and qualitatively, has forgiven you, then mathematically, so should Sam.”
Aelwyn smiles briefly at Ayda’s complicated logic. “I’m also worried that — that she’s going to learn more about me and not going to want to be my friend.”
Ayda looks confused. “Oh, but she has to, mathematically.”
“What?”
“Through the transitive property of friendship. Adaine and Fig and I are all best friends through this property.”
Aelwyn frowns. “Explain.”
“If you were best friends with Penelope, and she was also best friends with Penelope, then you two must be best friends as well due to the transitive properties of friendship.”
“But Penelope betrayed her. So they weren’t really best friends.”
“Even better,” Ayda says, eyes all lit up. “You betrayed Penelope as well, yes? So the equation still works because the betrayals cancel out.”
Aelwyn smiles up at the ceiling. She takes a deep breath in and closes her eyes.
“Hypothetically, what if I wanted to kiss Penelope and also wouldn’t hate it if Sam and I kissed as well?”
Ayda mulls it over a second. “Multiplicative property of friendship,” Ayda says, and Aelwyn can tell she’s improvising, but it somehow still works on her. “When one friendship had the possibility to be multiplied, the subsequent transitive one does as well.”
“Interesting,” Aelwyn says. “And so what about you and Fig and Adaine, then?”
“What about Fig and Adaine and I?” Ayda says, blushing so hard the fire in her hair turns blue.
“If you and Fig are — paramores, or whatever you two nerds call it, then wouldn’t that make Fig and Adaine paramore? And then you and Adaine paramores as well?”
Ayda’s hair is now white with how flustered she is. “Is it possible to have multiple paramores?”
Aelwyn shrugs, smiling. “I don’t see why not.”
Ayda’s mind looks truly and honestly blown, and Aelwyn feels herself on the verge of laughter for the first time that night. She checks in the reflection of her crystal to see that her eyes are back to normal. “I think I’m alright to go out. Want to come out with me, or do you need a minute?”
“I’ve been informed by Fig that I’ve already come out, as that’s what you call telling everybody that you love people of the same gender as you.” Ayda is smirking now, and Aelwyn rolls her eyes as she pulls her up from the floor.
“Alright, you. Let’s get back into the party, shall we?”
“Let’s,” says Ayda, and the two of them walk back into the fray together.
And for the first time in a while, Aelwyn is aware of just how many people are on her side, metaphorically or not.