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Adaine had so much to do. So much to do that just the thought of how much she had to do made her feel like she was going to spiral.
Technically, none of the stuff she had to do was incredibly urgent. But gods, that didn’t stop it from stressing her out.
Fig had invited Adaine to go to a family party with her, alongside her mom. About a week ago, when Fig proposed the idea (and Adaine hadn’t had any time to think about any of the logistics), it sounded like a great idea.
Now that they were about half-an-hour out from leaving, Adaine was starting to regret saying yes.
It’s not that she didn’t like the idea of doing something Fig, but a family gathering with a bunch of people she didn’t know meant she’d have to introduce herself to all of them, which was already a lot of work, and not to mention it’d also probably be super loud in there, and she had no clue what time they’d be leaving, meaning if they stayed too late it could very easily eat into her nightly routine, and—
No. She shakes her head, she cannot let herself spiral into that line of thinking. She takes a deep breath and shakes her hands out. If she gets too worked up, then she might not be able to go, and not only would Fig probably be really sad, but that’d just be a brand new change to her schedule! (Gods, she just couldn’t win, could she?)
Adaine isn’t quite sure at what point in this process she had gotten up and started pacing, but she was now.
She just needs to get herself calm enough now, brute force her way through the party, and deal with the aftermath later. And sure, that wasn’t the… healthiest option, but it was better than everything going to shit now and basically ruining this for Fig— and in a completely unrelated thought; wow has she always been so aware of the way her hair brushes against the back of her neck?? She needs to fix that now because the sensation of it is not helping.
She moves over to her nightstand and reaches for a hair tie.
As she does so, her hand brushes against a book on her nightstand.
Fig had gotten her that book, sometime last month. Not for anything special, just as a treat (they did that sort of thing a lot. Getting little treats for each other just for fun). It was a really good book, she tore through a solid 70ish% within a week… and then her reading went completely stagnant, and it wasn’t that she didn’t want to finish it, but she had just been really busy, and sometimes she just straight up forgot. And now, she hasn't touched it since last month.
When she leaves with Fig, she’s probably going to ask her how the book is going, and what is Adaine going to say?? “Oh yeah, I really like it, but it’s been sitting collecting dust on my nightstand for nearly a month”?? Then it’ll just seem like she hates it, and Fig will feel bad, or maybe she’ll be angry and never want to get a book for her ever again, and she knows that thought is entirely illogical but is it???
Adaine can feel herself spiraling, and she wants to just stop it, but she can’t. Everything is just so overwhelming, and she feels trapped between options. She still has to get ready for the party, she isn’t even out of her pajamas, but as her thoughts spiral further and further out of her control she feels paralyzed. She feels rooted to this spot on the floor, time feeling simultaneously like it’s moving way too fast and also impossibly slow, a paradox that just floods her brain with even more uncontrollable thoughts of anxiety.
Control of this feeling is slipping rapidly out of her grasp, and flapping her hands is no longer cutting it in terms of self-soothing. She needs something stronger. If she could just dig her nails into the palm of her hand, or tug at her hair a little bit, maybe that painful input would be enough, enough to gain enough leverage over this all-encompassing overwhelm to the point where she can calm herself down—
But no she can’t let herself do that, because she knows that’s a dangerous path and just lead to another thing spiraling out of her control, and if she loses any more control this could spiral into a meltdown, and if that happens then she really can’t go the party with Fig, and if she doesn’t—
She covers her face to stop that train of thought, and before she can stop it, a low whining noise (that she is incredibly grateful nobody is around to hear) slips out from her throat. Without even fully realizing it, she sinks to the floor, knees drawing in to her chest, just wanting to make herself as small as possible, because maybe, if she curls up tight enough, she’ll fold in on herself and disappear…
Adaine has absolutely no clue how long she’s sitting there, but eventually, she hears her door open. She can’t even force herself to lift her head.
“Yo, Adaine, we’re leaving in like—“ The familiar voice of Fig fills Adaine with both relief and pure dread, “shit, Adaine—!”
She hears her friend scramble over to her side, but still can’t look up. Her body and thoughts feel like they’re trapped in honey. She feels completely stuck.
“Hey, Adaine, babe, what’s going on?” The worry in Fig’s voice is obvious, and Adaine hates that she can’t prove to Fig she isn’t completely catatonic. Can’t is a good word to describe just about everything she’s feeling right now.
There’s a beat of silence before Fig speaks again, voice significantly softened, “Adaine, can you talk?”
Somehow, somewhere, Adaine finds it within herself to shake her head.
“Okay, okay,” Adaine hears her friend softly sigh with relief, “do you want me to stay?” Adaine is grateful for how quickly Fig has taken a careful handle on this situation.
Adaine manages a nod. Small, but noticeable.
“Good, okay. You’re doing good. Can- can I touch you?”
The idea of touch seems both daunting and incredibly comforting at the same time. Both disorienting and grounding.
After a long internal battle, Adaine responds with another nod.
The air is still once again, before Fig’s hands gently touch Adaine’s, stroking the backs of them with her thumbs.
Much to her relief, the touch isn’t as overwhelming as she had worried about.
“There we go… you’re gonna be alright ‘Daine.”
While it can’t be more than 5 minutes, it feels like they’re sitting there for hours before Adaine feels herself coming out of it. Fig doesn’t rush her at any point.
Adaine pulls her hands down enough to look at Fig.
“Hey, there you are,” Fig tilts her head slightly, a warm expression on her face, “you doing a bit better?”
Adaine nods, a bit more confidence in the gesture. Now that it doesn’t feel like her brain is actively trying to kill her, it’s a bit easier to communicate.
“Good, good,” There's another beat of silence. “You wanna… talk about it?”
Adaine, then shakes her head, this time responding with a quiet, “no.”
Fig doesn’t push. Instead, she takes Adaine’s hands and lightly tugs them. “Let’s get you off the floor, yeah?”
Uncurling herself after being so tightly wound up is uncomfortable and awkward, but with some maneuvering Fig pulls her shakily to her feet.
“There we go, I’ve gotcha. Let’s sit you down.”
Fig sits Adaine down onto her bed, before kneeling down in front of her and squeezing her hands. “How’re you feeling, babe?”
“Better.” It’s a miracle Fig can hear her with how softly she’s speaking, but if she can’t, she doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, she brings a hand up to brush some hair out of her face.
“You’re doing good… you’re doing great…” Fig combs her hand through Adaine’s hair.
Once again, the room lapses into silence, before Fig asks the question Adaine had been dreading.
“You still wanna go to the party?”
Adaine’s breath silently catches in her chest. She had been hoping, praying, that Fig wouldn’t ask her that question. She knew it was coming, but she really didn’t want her to ask it, even if it was necessary. The question was just so daunting, and every choice felt wrong, and she was really wishing she just hadn’t said yes to going in the—
“Adaine. Hey.” Fig’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts and back to reality. “You don’t have to go. I won’t be upset if you don’t. It’s up to you.”
Adaine wished she could properly explain how reliving that was to hear, but the way her shoulders slump probably communicates it effectively. “I… don’t want to.”
Even though she knew Fig would be fine with it, the sheer calm in Fig’s voice as she responds, “alright, that’s fine.” Is more relaxing than she could ever describe.
“I’m just gonna go tell my mom, okay? I gotta tell her you’re not going”
Adaine nods, and Fig gets to her feet, and after one last squeeze of Adaine’s hand she leaves the room.
Adaine can’t help it. She slumps backwards onto the bed as soon as she’s alone.
She’s exhausted, but also feels so, so silly. She really worked herself up so much for such a calm outcome? She would laugh if the situation weren’t like… awful.
Just a few minutes later, Fig returns to her room. “Good news,” she says as she enters, sitting on the bed next to Adaine, “told mom you weren’t feeling well, so you don’t have to go anymore.”
Fig lays down next to Adaine, looking over at her, “and, guess what else.”
Adaine looks over, “what?”
“I told her I want to stay to make sure you’re alright, sooooo,” She draws out the ‘o’, before rolling onto her side and booping Adaine’s nose with her finger, “I’m staying.”
The words take a second to process in Adaine’s ears, before she looks over at Fig in surprise.
“You’re not going?”
Fig shakes her head. “Nope, I’m staying with you. I know you don’t like being alone after stuff like that.”
Fig’s right, but Adaine still feels weird about this. “Fig, you- you didn’t have to-“
Fig scoffs, “didn’t have to what? Skip the party?”
“Y-yeah, I—“ This doesn’t feel right, Adaine doesn’t feel right about this. “You- you didn’t have to skip the party because I’m upset, I could’ve just—“
Fig presses a finger over Adaine’s mouth and shushes her, cutting off her sentence. “First of all, breathe.”
Adaine closes her eyes and takes a deep breath like Fig said to, then looks back at Fig.
“Second of all, when I tell you I have been looking for an excuse to get out of this party—“ Fig laughs, “dude, I mean- obviously this wasn’t an ideal way, but I had been trying to bail myself out of this party for so long. I only invited you because I thought I for sure wasn’t getting out of it.”
This time, Adaine laughs with relief, making Fig smile even more, “I’m serious. Dude I did not want to go to this party, I was considering faking being sick, but my mom is way too good at catching that kinda stuff.”
“I’m glad my brain breaking was convenient for you.”
Fig snorts. “You know that’s not what I meant.” She nudges Adaine’s shoulder, “…but also that was kinda what I meant.”
The two stare at each other for a moment, before they promptly burst into laughter.
“Only bad news is,” Fig says once their giggling ceases, “my mom is probably gonna be super worried about you once she gets home. Depending on what time she gets back, you may wake up to her checking on you.”
Adaine laughs some more, wiping amused tears from her eyes. “I think I can live with that.”
Fig pulls Adaine into a hug, resting her chin on her shoulder. It’s a nice hug, not too light, but not too firm. A perfectly soothing embrace.
Adaine doesn’t know how long they lay there, but it must be long enough, because before she knows it she’s drifting off to sleep in Fig’s arms, the events of the afternoon finally catching up to her already tired brain.