I'm just trying (out)
The gymnasium was buzzing with energy as girls lined up for cheerleading tryouts. The squeaks of sneakers on the polished floor and the chatter of excited voices echoed in Reina’s ears, but it all felt distant to her. The noise, the movement—it was too much. She tugged at the hem of her pleated skirt, feeling its stiffness against her legs, but even her carefully chosen outfit wasn’t helping calm the rising storm inside her.
She glanced at Pandora, who looked perfectly serene in her pastel sports bra and flowy shorts. Pandora was always so effortlessly calm, as if nothing could ever bother her.
“This is a terrible idea,” Reina muttered under her breath, her hands trembling as she adjusted her tank top, trying to look composed.
Pandora gave her an encouraging smile, unfazed. “You’re going to be amazing. Don’t worry so much.”
But that was the problem—Reina couldn’t stop worrying. Her heart pounded harder with every girl that performed a tumbling sequence or cheer routine in front of the head cheerleader, Dorcas Meadowes. Dorcas, with her long black braids streaked with dark green, watched everyone with a sharp, discerning eye, her presence commanding respect.
Reina swallowed, her throat dry. The longer she stood there, the more her stomach twisted in knots, making her feel nauseous. Her breathing quickened as her chest tightened. She hadn’t eaten much—barely anything at all—and her legs felt weak.
“Next group up!” Dorcas called out, snapping Reina back to the present.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Reina whispered to Pandora, turning on her heel before her friend could say anything.
Pandora gave her a concerned look but nodded, staying silent.
Reina hurried out of the gym, the pounding in her chest getting louder, more suffocating. By the time she reached the bathroom, she stumbled into a stall, locking it behind her as her breaths grew more erratic. She gripped the sides of the toilet, but her stomach was empty—there was nothing to throw up. Just dry heaves that left her feeling weak and shaky.
Her chest tightened further. Why was this happening? Why couldn’t she just pull herself together? This wasn’t how Blacks were supposed to be. She had been raised to believe that weakness—emotional, mental, or otherwise—was unacceptable. Blacks didn’t get nervous. Blacks didn’t panic.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the panic away, but her breaths only came faster, her vision narrowing.
Suddenly, the door to the bathroom creaked open. She froze, hoping whoever it was would leave quickly. But then she heard the familiar voice that made her heart drop.
“Reina? You in here?”
James. Her knight in red varsity jacket armour.
Her fingers gripped the edge of the stall door as she tried to stay silent, but her rapid breathing gave her away.
“Reina, come on, I know you’re in there.” James’s voice was softer now, full of concern. “Can you open up?”
She hesitated but knew she couldn’t hide in the stall forever. Slowly, she unlocked the door and opened it, avoiding James’s gaze.
His brows furrowed when he saw her, concern etched across his face. “Hey, what’s going on? You ran out of there like something was chasing you.”
Reina quickly wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice shaky but firm. “I just needed some air.”
James crouched down next to her, not buying it for a second. “Reina, you don’t look fine. You’re breathing really fast. Are you having an anxietyattack?”
The word “anxiety” made Reina stiffen. Blacks didn’t get anxiety. Blacks didn’t have breakdowns. Mental illness was a sign of weakness, something to be buried, not talked about. Her parents had drilled that into her head for as long as she could remember.
“No,” she snapped, harsher than she intended. “I’m not… I don’t get anxious.” She met his eyes then, trying to steel herself. “Blacks don’t get nervous.”
James blinked, taken aback by her response. “Reina, everyone gets anxious sometimes. It doesn’t matter who you are.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “Nope.Not us. We don’t—my family doesn’t believe in that. It’s just…weakness.” She tried to stress the importance of being strong but the itching in her throat did not cease.
James frowned, his expression softening as he realized what she was saying. “That’s not weakness, Reina. What you’re going through? It’s real. And you don’t have to pretend it’s not happening just because of what your family thinks.”
Reina’s throat tightened again, the familiar panic creeping in at the edges. She didn’t want to admit that she was struggling. She didn’t want to feel weak. But James’s words—his concern—were breaking through her defenses.
“I’m not weak,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
James shook his head, his voice gentle. “No, you’re not. You’re one of the strongest people I know, and that doesn’t change just because you’re struggling right now. Everyone has their moments.”
Her breathing hitched, and she felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I just… I can’t breathe,” she admitted, her voice shaky. “It feels like I’m drowning.”
James moved closer, his hand reaching out to gently take hers. “Okay, listen to me,” he said softly, his voice calm and steady. “We’re going to slow it down together. Breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. You don’t have to do this alone.”
She nodded, her chest still tight, but she focused on his voice, on the rhythm of his breathing. Slowly, painfully, she began to follow his lead, taking deeper breaths, each one a little easier than the last.
“That’s it,” James encouraged. “You’re doing great.”
Reina’s shoulders relaxed, her racing heart finally starting to calm. The suffocating feeling began to ease, though the weight of her family’s expectations still lingered at the back of her mind. She didn’t want to feel like this—like she was letting them down by not being strong enough.
“Thanks,” she whispered after a few minutes, her voice small. “I just… I didn’t want to let anyone see me like this.”
James squeezed her hand gently, his hazel eyes full of warmth. “You don’t have to hide this, Reina. You’re not letting anyone down by being human. And if your family can’t see that, then they’re the ones missing something.”
Reina bit her lip, the tears still threatening to fall. “It’s just…hard. I don’t know how to make it stop.”
James gave her a soft smile. “You don’t have to figure it out all at once. But you don’t have to do it alone either. You’ve got me, and you’ve got your friends. We’re here for you, no matter what.”
For the first time, Reina felt the weight in her chest lighten, just a little. She nodded, her voice barely audible. “I don’t want to be weak.”
“You’re not,” James reassured her, his voice steady. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. Just because you’re going through this doesn’t mean anything about your strength.”
Reina managed a small, shaky smile. “Thanks, James.”
He stood up, offering her a hand to help her to her feet. “Come on. If you’re still up for it, you’ve got some cheerleaders to impress. But if you want to bail, no one’s going to blame you.”
Reina hesitated but then nodded. “I think…I want to try.”
James’s grin widened. “That’s the spirit. You’re gonna crush it.”
As they walked back to the gym, Pandora gave Reina an encouraging wave, and James squeezed her shoulder one last time before heading toward the door. His presence had steadied her, and while the anxiety still lingered in the back of her mind, she felt a little more ready to face the challenge.
Reina stepped forward, taking a deep breath. It was time to prove to herself that she could do this—on her own terms.