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I woke up the next morning with dry eyes and an empty stomach. I rolled over in the queen sized bed and kicked Mackie, startling him awake.

“I need about a gallon of coffee.”

“You and me both, kid.”

We got ourselves up and dressed and I looked up the nearest Starbucks on my phone, which was thankfully close by. After each acquiring a Venti, we were back on the road, the hotel and the panic attack behind us.

“So…do you want to talk about it?” Mac asked gingerly.

“Not really. I don’t know, that’s never happened to me before.”

“What, a panic attack?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never had one either but I’ve seen plenty of people have them.”

“Like who?”

“Jessie used to get them all the time.” I looked over at my brother, amazed at this nugget of information. I had never seen Jessie descend into her fear like that.

“Wait…really?”

“Yeah. I don’t think she’s had one for a while, but it was almost a daily occurrence at one point.”

“Wow.”

“Hey Zo…cone of safety?”

I sighed. Mac and I had developed this practice a year or so ago, when we were coming to blows over something that now seemed inconsequential. We asked for the cone of safety to state our opinion without the other screaming or yelling or getting upset. It sometimes worked. Sometimes.

“Sure.”

“So…I’m no expert on this kind of thing but…I think you should talk to Zac…about your eating.”

Anger flashed across my face, and I know that Mac saw it.

“My eating?” I asked, trying my best to remain calm.

“Yeah. I mean…you’ve barely touched any food this whole time we’ve been on this trip. You never say you’re hungry. And then when you do get a meal…like brunch the other day…you wolf it down. I don’t know, again not the expert, but I think that might have something to do with why you had a the attack last night. Hunger can lead to your brain freaking out like that.”

“What, did you google that?” I said sarcastically.

“Yeah, I did, so what? I don’t…I don’t like this okay? I don’t like having to bring this up and have you snap back at me. I know…I know how hard it is to look at those Hanson websites and see yourself. It’s not…easy, Zo. I get it. Trust me, I get it. Jessie gets it, Avie gets it. We’re all in the same boat.”

“So like…what is your point?” I asked, my tone dripping with sass. I didn’t want to be mean to Mac but somehow that’s how everything was coming out.

“My point is that I’m starving but you so vehemently said no to breakfast sandwiches or pastries at Starbucks.”

“You could have gotten something!!”

“I was scared to even bring food into the car, Zoe, the way you said no was venomous.”

“Oh, shut up.” I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop snapping and challenging him. There was a big part of my brain that willed myself to just give in and make a joke, get breakfast, hang out with my brother. But the bigger part of my brain was fuzzy and out of focus, causing me to feel unwarranted anger and fear.

“Well I’m gonna get something. What do you want?”

“I’m not hungry Mackenzie!”

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday! That’s not how this works!”

“I’m nauseous okay?? I’ve been nauseous since last night.”

He pulled off the highway and followed signs for a McDonald’s, the last thing I wanted. He knew, from countless Sundays after church together, what I always got, and ordered it despite my protests.

“We should be in LA by tonight if we just keep truckin’,” he said, making a valiant attempt to lighten the mood and change the subject.

“I don’t know why I came with you. This has all been one huge mess.” I made the conscious decision to not apologize.

“Whatever,” Mac replied, tearing into his sausage mcmuffin and merging back into traffic.

***

It was one in the morning when we finally pulled into Mac’s apartment complex, both of us tired and cranky from being in the car all day. We had started this summer so happy, just excited to spend time with each other, and now we had barely spoken for the better part of the drive. Mac played music and I buried myself in my book, already ready for my return flight.

We made our way up to his apartment and he flicked on the light. Where Avery’s apartment was incredibly Avery, this apartment was definitely Mac’s. It was covered in band posters and he clearly did not take the time to clean before heading to Tulsa a few weeks ago. He went to the hall closet and returned with some blankets, and began making up the couch for me.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” I asked cautiously.

“I have to work. I’ll leave you a key, though.”

I went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas and wash my face. I definitely looked tired. There were bags under my eyes, something that no sixteen year old necessarily wants to see in her reflection. I made a silent promise to myself that I would be nice to Mac tomorrow. After all, he didn’t have to let me stay with him.

I shot a quick text to Mom and Dad, just letting them know we had finally made it to LA safely, before completely conking out for the night. Sitting in a car for that long was exhausting. Tomorrow is a new day. I thought as my eyes started to slam shut. Tomorrow is always a new day.

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