Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
I took a deep breath and pressed the red button.
The elevator came to a grinding halt, and Nina screamed like a banshee.
“Jake! Jake? We’re stuck! What’s happening? What’s happening?”
With one hand on the stop button, I kept my cool and held my index finger to my mouth. “Shh.”
The look on her face transformed from fright to rage before my eyes. “Please tell me…you…did not just stop this elevator?”
“Calm down, Nina. Calm dow—”
Ow. Fuck!
She’d used all of her strength to smack me in the chest.
“The fuck, Nina. Stop!”
I grabbed her hands and locked them into mine, and my glare burned into hers. She couldn’t move from my grasp. As much as her whack in the chest hurt, she was now realizing how strong I was and that she wouldn’t be able to compete.
“You told me you wouldn’t force me to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with. I am begging you…move this elevator…now!”
If any residents heard her say that, they’d call the police.
Holding her hands tighter, I said, “Nina, calm down. It’s okay. Don’t you see you have to stick this out? You have to pass through the moment of panic. If you can get past that and see that nothing happens, you can do anything.”
I’d done a lot of research in the last several days on panic attacks. There was always a peak where the symptoms got to their most unbearable, but if the person stuck with the situation rather than running, things would eventually calm down once they realized they weren’t really in true danger. Most people ran before they got to that point. The cure lied in sticking it out until the end.
We continued to argue back and forth until she started to hyperventilate. I wanted her to know that the choice was still hers. I moved in closer and placed my hands on her face. “Look at me.” I ran my tongue ring across my bottom lip. As crazy as she was acting, I ached to taste her mouth. I wished it were possible to kiss the fear right out of her. Instead, I simply said, “If you make me push that button, the deal’s off.”
“Fine…deal’s off…do it. Now.”
Well, that backfired.
I repositioned myself in front of the panel of buttons to block it and decided to firm up my stance. I crossed my arms. “No.”
“Jake…push the button.”
“No. You’d be back at square one. You have to get over this, and the only way is to experience it. I’m not letting you give up that easily.”
She screamed out in frustration and punched the back wall.
“Fuck me! I can’t believe this,” she said.
Believe me, I’d give anything to know what it felt like to fuck you, Nina.
I joked, “Well, that’s one way we could pass the time, but I don’t make a habit of doing that with women in the midst of a hyperventilation episode. It’s too confusing…hard to tell what’s actually causing the heavy breathing.”
“Very funny.”
I told her I was kidding just in case she didn’t get my sense of humor. She ended up crawling down onto the floor in a fetal position next, and that was when I knew it was time to implement phase two.
Her head was in between her knees, so she didn’t see me open the backpack. I figured I’d start this party off with a bang. I reached into the bag and pulled out the bottle of champagne I’d brought and prepared to open it.
Here goes nothing.
When the cork flew into the air, it let out a loud pop. Foam shot out and landed all over my plaid shirt. I couldn’t help but crack up when I saw the look on Nina’s face.
“Jake! What the hell? What THE hell?”
I lifted the bottle. “We’re celebrating!”
“You are sick!”
“We are celebrating your survival, Nina! It’s been twelve minutes and thirty-three seconds since this elevator stopped, and you’re still alive.”
I took out two champagne flutes and a picnic blanket I’d brought, nearly hitting her in the face as I fluffed it out and spread it on the elevator floor.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like we’re doing? We’re having a picnic.”
I took out the rest of the delicacies I’d bought from Trader Joe’s and placed them on the blanket along with my iPod.
“You are not serious!”
“Dead serious. We need to change your negative connotation of elevators. The last time you were in this situation, you associated it with darkness and misery. Now, the next time you get stuck in one, you’ll think of the amazeballs picnic we’re gonna have.”
I poured the champagne and handed her one. She refused to take it.
“You’re being a jackass.”
“You can take it, or I can drink it all. Then, you’ll just be stuck in this elevator with a drunk jackass.”
I pretended to enjoy the food a little too much while she looked at me as if I were certifiable. There was no rhyme or reason to the assortment I’d selected: Wasabi peas, chocolate-covered cherries, sesame crackers, children’s animal crackers, hummus. I’d been just trying to get the hell out of the grocery store, but now, in looking at the random stuff I’d picked, it was almost comical.