There was a soldier patrolling, and he stopped in front of me, frowning, his gun held across his chest. "What is wrong with you?"
"She had too much to drink last night," Elodie said, shooting me a look that said, What is wrong with you?
I gave the faintest smile.
Elodie let out a flirty laugh and pointed at our bus, distracting the soldier with some dumb question about tours. He gave me one last lingering glance, and then moved to talk to her. I could tell Jack was practically buzzing with alarm, mentally searching for what he could use for first aid. "Avery-" he whispered.
Stellan hadn't spoken to any of us since we'd gotten off the bus, but now he stepped up and slipped a casual arm around my shoulders.
"What are you doing? She needs-" Jack started to protest.
"I don't think you actually know what she needs." Stellan drew me out of the line, and I could see Jack deciding whether to follow and make a scene.
"Leave me alone," I murmured to Stellan, knowing I should be more annoyed than I was capable of right now. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're shaking and sweating. That's not good at a border crossing where they're already on alert."
"Can I catch the virus?" I glanced at the back of the soldier with the gun, now walking away from Elodie, and at the official inside the booth, trying our passport numbers one more time. One more red screen. We weren't going to get through. We were going to get turned over to the Circle.
Stellan pulled me farther away and drew me close, his head to mine like we were obnoxious tourists who didn't know that a border crossing was a time to lay off the PDA. "Are you having a hard time breathing?" he murmured.
I nodded against his forehead.
"I think you're having a panic attack."
"This isn't in my head," I snapped. "I literally can't breathe." It felt like a fist was tightening around my sternum. It was getting a lot worse, and fast. I felt my vision starting to swim. I was going to die in the middle of the desert on the hot asphalt. "I'm sorry. I'm going to leave you to deal with all this alone. I'm sorry-"
Stellan took my face in his hands. "Kuklachka, listen to me."
I'd told him not to call me that. And unlike in the hospital, having his face so close to mine wasn't helping this time. I pictured it all again-kissing him. An explosion. Screams. Blood. I took gasped breath after gasping breath, but I didn't push him away. His hands were suddenly the only thing keeping me upright.
"It's not just in your head. It's real. But I do think it's a panic attack."
I shook my head.
"It's a terrible feeling, but it's not going to hurt you. You're probably not breathing out all the way, so then you can't breathe in."
I could only hear some of the words. Breathe. Panic. My entire world narrowed to my chest, and to the air I couldn't get into my lungs.
"Look at me." He shook me a little. "Avery. We need to get you looking calm before the border official comes back."
I blinked a few times and his face swam into focus.
Stellan held my face tighter. "Purse your lips like you're whistling," he ordered in a whisper. "Now blow out. Push out all the air you can. More." He pressed a hand into my stomach. There wasn't any more air. But I contracted my stomach as hard as I could, and pushed out another breath. "More. Good. Now pause."
I did, trying to trust him, even though it hurt. My chest hurt. My lungs hurt. A tear slipped down my face. "Now breathe in slowly, through your nose, into your stomach," he said. "Try to push my hand out."
I can't, I wanted to say, that's the problem, but I concentrated on his fingers through the thin fabric of my T-shirt, concentrated on my stomach expanding under them. It was at least ninety degrees out, and I was so cold.
"Good. Now out through the pursed lips again. Slowly. As much air out as you can. More. And in again. Push my hand."
It was the third breath before I realized that I was very definitely breathing. It still wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't getting worse. A few more breaths, and I could breathe almost normally again. I blinked up at Stellan, and his eyes searched mine, far more concerned than I had realized.
"How did you know?" I whispered.
He rested his chin on the top of my head with a heavy sigh. I leaned my forehead against his beachy tank. His heart was going a mile a minute. His fingers tightened on my stomach and he pulled back, his eyes on the horizon behind me.
"Are you okay?" I said.