47
Quincey
Nate went to check on Nova, and I slipped into the bathroom.
The premiere was tomorrow night, and the nerves were starting. They were mingling with the after-daze of what Nate and I just did, but they were there. They were starting to prickle and tingle, and I smoothed a hand over my stomach, trying to push them out of me. It was an imagery technique. I was gathering them, sorting them out of the happiness Nate just made me feel, and once I pulled them all together, I imagined I was wrapping them up in a net, and then I was moving the net up through my stomach, up my throat, up, and out of my mouth and then I was removing them from my body. All of them. I wasn’t letting one stay inside, and it worked.
I felt better.
They’d start again, but I’d shut down my mind and do that
