room to move past me. And then I follow them out of the coffee shop.
Zeke has Alice sitting with her head down by the time I make it out of Chutes and Lattes. He’s rubbing his hand up and down her back, which is rounded like a turtle, and speaking quietly to her.
Without shifting his gaze, he angles his chin toward me. “Can you get her a cup of cold water? Or just grab my bottle from my backpack and ask them if they’ll fill it.”
I nod, wondering what I would be doing if not for Zeke. Would I have known how to coax her out? To get her water? Would I have panicked?
Before Zeke can say another word, I rifle through his bag, ignoring the baseball mitt, his wallet, his French dictionary until I finally feel the smooth plastic of the water bottle.
“I’ll be right back.”
It takes almost twenty minutes before Zeke calms Alice down enough for us to get her home. She insists that she doesn’t need us to stay with her but neither of us wants to leave.
“I feel ridiculous,” she says as I get her settled in our room, a cup of hot tea in her quote mug, and her notebook nearby.
“Don’t be silly. Truthfully, that place looked totally lame. I’ll tell Zeke not to wait because I think I’d rather stay back with you. We can watch a dumb action movie or a silly romance if you want.”
“No.” Alice’s voice is firm and there’s a tinge of anger there. “I’ll feel awful if you stay for me. Don’t even think about it.”
“I only went because you wanted to go. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Please.” Alice doesn’t look at me this time. Her voice is thin. “I’m going to take a pill and go to sleep. I won’t be good company.”
I consider my options. If she’s going to sleep, I could just wait outside for a few minutes and come back when she’s asleep.
“Please,” Alice repeats.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Do you need anything else?”
She shakes her head and smiles. “Zeke’s a good guy.”
I think about the way he protected her from the crowds of people, how calming his voice had been. “He is.”
Zeke’s sitting out in the corridor, texting. “How’s Alice?” he asks when I shut the door. For once, the hallway isn’t teeming with people and part of me just wants to sink down beside him. Instead, I offer him my hand and help him up.
“How did you know what to do?”
He holds the door open for me as we walk back into the night air. “My sister also suffers from anxiety and has issues with crowds. I just talked to Alice the way I usually talk to Olivia.”
“What’s your sister like?”
It’s dark outside but I can tell he’s smiling. “She’s awesome. She’s a writer and her books are brilliant. And I’d say that even if she wasn’t my sister.”
“Would I know any of them?”
He names an author whose name I recognize from the spines of books in bookstores, but I’ve never read. I make a mental note to pick up a few of her books when I get a break from French. If I get a break from French.
“Does she still have anxiety issues?”
He shrugs. “I don’t see her as much as I’d like to because she lives outside of DC. But I’m sure most people wouldn’t know it to see her. She’s pretty and successful, has a great boyfriend who she’s been with forever. She seems to manage her book tours fine. So, maybe?”
We reach downtown just as Zeke’s stomach starts growling. “They have food at Chutes,” I assure him.
Zeke grimaces. “Any chance I could convince you to go for pizza first? I can’t deal with ten-dollar nachos. I’d rather get a few slices for that money.”
“Pizza it is, then.” We make our way to the place where Alice and I went the first day, and push through the crowd of a dozen guys who all seem to be leaving as we come in.
I don’t usually have issues with crowds, but even I feel like I can’t breathe with this crowd of linebacker wannabes. Until Zeke’s hand comes to rest on my lower back and my nervousness dissipates.
“I’m good for at least four slices,” he says when we finally get to the counter. “Want to share a small pizza?”
Veux-tu partager une petite pizza?
“Have we been speaking in French all this time?” I ask, as Zeke pays and grabs the hot pie.
“I think so,” he