Page 20 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Player

“Cal.” Her voice is quiet. Steady. “I’m right here.”

I nod without opening my eyes.

“Can you look at me?”

I manage it. She’s standing exactly where I’d left her. Not crowding me. Not panicking. Just watching me with calm, patient eyes.

“Breathe with me.”

She inhales slowly. I try to match her.

The first attempt is shaky. The second is better. By the fourth... My heartbeat finally steadies.

“There you go,” she says softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I ruined tonight.”

“We’ve been here less than two minutes.”

A tiny laugh escapes me. “I guess that’s a record.”

“See?” She smiles. “You’re already making jokes.”

I lean back against the concrete wall. “I hate this.”

“The gala?”

“The people.” I immediately shake my head. “Not the people. Being watched.”

She nods. “I figured.”

“I don’t know what to say.” I let out a slow breath. “I’ve always been like this.”

She waits.

“In school, I’d volunteer to write every group presentation, as long as someone else gave it.” I nod. “I’d rather throw a footballin front of eighty thousand people than make small talk with eight strangers.”

Understanding dawns across her face. “If the world only knew.”

“What?”

“You’re not grumpy. You’re just really shy.”

Silence settles between us. Not awkward.

She smiles. “You know...”

“What?”

“I think I can help.”

I tilt my head. “How?”

“You don’t have to carry every conversation. Let me.”