The Seat Filler

by Sariah Wilson

Zoe gave me a knowing look and then patted me on my arm. “If anyone knows how you’re feeling, it’s me. Because I’ve been there, done that, and given the way he is staring at you right now, you are in very deep trouble.”

“Oh, I don’t dance. I don’t like to inflict that on other people.” “What do you mean?” “Don’t get me wrong. I love music, but I lack that thing that makes your body move the way you want it to. One time at a dance in junior high, a chaperone literally pulled me off the dance floor because she thought I was having a seizure, so I don’t do that in public anymore.”

I can’t spend all my time looking back and reliving the worst parts of my life.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without chocolate.” “My guess is twenty-five to life.”

“I think this tastes like lemonade’s hardened older brother who has a full tattoo arm sleeve and a criminal record.”

“You’re supposed to think of five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, one thing you can taste. When your mind is racing, going through those steps is supposed to bring you back to the present so you can focus on what’s happening to you physically instead of being caught up in your brain. And deep breathing is supposed to help, too.”