As I Breathe (One Breath at a Time: Book 2) (14 page)

“
Don’t try...just do it.” With my index finger, I drew an imaginary check mark in the air. “Bye, Jude.”

“
Bye cutie,” Jude said and waved me on as I floated on air back to Amanda.

“
Everything is going to work out for the both us, Amanda. Just be yourself.” I winked at her.

“
For sure.” We slapped high fives. “I’m already your biggest fan, Brielle. Don’t forget I’m coming for that autograph one day.” She promised, breathily. We embraced each other, saying goodbye like old friends.

I stood there and watched her strut back into Jude’s arms, actually, into the arms of my unofficial ex-boyfriend. That wasn’t too bad, considering we didn’t even have a breakup fight.

I hoped that one day I’d be so lucky and as gorgeous as Amanda. Her stride was long, hips swinging side to side with a slight rotation. I studied her. There was
nothing
about her catwalk that resembled a stripper’s walk. I wanted to remember everything about her and to emulate her style.

“
Shake it, Amanda. Don’t break it,” I yelled out to her. She put her palms on her hips, exaggeratingly shook her tush and then turned toward me. Her mouth gaped open into a big beautiful toothsome smile. We both giggled out loud as if we had shared a private joke.

-11-

Win! Win! Lose!

For some reason, Amanda and I had a once in a lifetime connection. I was sure we both felt it. I wished we had met the first day of my vacation instead of the last. We definitely had much more in common than I had with Jude. Shopping would have been the bomb with her. I swore to call her as soon as I got home.

When Amanda reached Jude, he picked her up and swung her around. The love they shared was visibly delicious. I hoped to be as blessed one day. With that thought, my jealousy vanished, and I silently wished them the best.

Smiling to myself, I sauntered back down the old brick road toward the bed and breakfast. When I reached a tourist attraction called The Oldest House, a strange wind whipped around me. I thought I saw a huge shadow of a man in the window watching me. A shiver chased a path up and down my spine and across my heated skin.

I picked up my pace and ran the rest of the way to the hotel. When I arrived, my mother was drinking lemonade with Lady Tara on the porch. Still panting from the run, I told them both I had just met Amanda Seymour. Tara couldn’t believe it. Surprisingly, she knew straight away who Amanda was.

I shared, in somewhat scant detail, how we had met. Of course, I omitted the details that we were both in love with the same man. Besides, my love for Jude had dissolved to a mere crush.

“
Who is she?” my mother asked.

“
You know that gorgeous model.”

My mother shrugged. “I don’t follow that stuff, Brielle.”

“I know but you should, Mom.” I picked up a strand of her frizzy hair. “You would learn a few tricks of the trade.” I didn’t mean that as insultingly as it may have sounded.

“
Brielle,” My mother huffed, pulling away from my reach.

“
Sorry Mom, I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” I glanced at Tara. Her eyes narrowed and her lips tightened as she slightly shook her head in disappointment and stared at her newspaper.
Whatever
I thought. It was none of her business how I spoke to my mother. I glared at Tara but she refused to look up at me. I really didn’t like her. I leaned over and kissed my mother’s cheek. “Hold on, Mom. Amanda’s on the cover of my
Glamour
magazine this month.” I ran to my room to retrieve the magazine.

Minutes later...

“Mom, this is her,” I said and shoved the cover into my mother’s face. “Isn’t she glamorous? I learned that Amanda and I are very much alike. We are like kindred spirits.” The excitement in my voice poured off my lips.

The word
spirits
clearly bothered my mother.

“
Spirits? Uh, there’s a word,” she mumbled under her breath. Her mood shifted as her eyes transfixed on the cover page of Amanda. “Who is this girl?”

“
I told you, Amanda Seymour. She’s awesome and lives in New York too. We’re going to hang out when we get back home,” My mother’s hands were clearly trembling. “What’s wrong, Mom?”

“
Nothing, I think my sugar is low.”

“
Let me get you some fruit, dear,” Tara voice streamed into our conversation.

“
No, that’s okay, Tara. I just can’t wait to leave this ghost town.”

“
I can’t wait to get home, too. I’m calling Amanda as soon as we get there.”

“
Brielle, this girl is much older than you. And, to be honest, I don’t think I want you to get wrapped up into her kind of world. Modeling isn’t what your father and I want for you.” She turned the magazine facedown.

I couldn’t believe my mother was judging Amanda without even knowing her. I guessed she was being protective. And, if I wanted to model she would’ve never denied me to do so. I figured she was stressed out.

Ironically, spring break vacation had taken its toll on her—she detested the ghost stories that St. Augustine was famous for. I knew we’d never visit again for that reason alone. I didn’t want to say I told her so. I warned her when dad booked the trip it wasn’t a good idea, but the final decision was hers. Plus, she’d been put through the wringer, watching me get hit on by boys almost twice my age. I had grown up in a flash before her eyes and experienced my first crush. This surely would cause any parent to crumble under the pressure of it all. Now my budding friendship with Amanda freaked her out too. Especially, since, she was so much older than me. It was all too threatening to my mother; she wanted me to stay a kid forever. However, that wasn’t what I signed up for in this life. I couldn’t wait to grow up.

“
Mom...she isn’t like that,” I snapped and grabbed the magazine from her hands. “You can’t tell me who to be friends with.”

“
Brielle...let it go,” she said then turned to Tara. “I’m sorry that you have to hear our family quarrel.” Lately, my mother was always apologizing to everyone for my behavior.

Tara waved her hand into the air. “No worries. Don’t stop on my account.” Why didn’t Tara leave us alone? She just sat there like an audience, rather than giving us a little privacy. After all, we were the paying guests and she should’ve gotten up and left.

“Brielle, please stop. You cannot hang out with someone who’s that much older than you. Period! Don’t you agree, Tara?”

Why are you asking Tara?
I inwardly snapped at my mom.

“
It’s none of my business,” Tara said, smiling coyly and glanced at me. “I think...if I said anything at all...someone...here...might...not...like it.” She always stretched out her words out when she spoke to me or about me. Her pitchy voice made my ears hurt.

Then why are you listening? At all! I wanted to yell out.

I opened my mouth to argue but figured, what was the point? My mother had obviously made up her mind and now Tara was on her side. Two against one. I had no chance.

I dug into my pocket and retrieved the photo of Jude and me. It was slightly crumpled. Quickly, I checked my other front pocket and it was empty. My eyes scanned the ground around my feet.

“Oh no, her card…Amanda gave me her business card, and now it’s gone.” I panicked. “I must have dropped it somewhere. Mom, I have to go back to the schoolhouse.” My eyes darted behind me.

“
We don’t have time, Brielle.” My mother picked up the magazine from the table and looked at the cover again. Perhaps she was having second thoughts about Amanda and I becoming friends.

“
Mom,” I whined and flopped down into a chair. “You don’t understand I lost her card.”

“
It’s probably for the best...”

“
Mom...”

“
Cut it out Brie...Tara, I’ll see you in a bit, I’m going up now.” She leaned forward to stand.

“
Of course, dear. Oh and if you need...anything...an extra suitcase—”

I interrupted, “Wait, Mom, please.” I begged with my eyes and put my hand on her knees to hold her back.

“Thanks, Tara.” She paused and stared me down. “No, Brielle, I need to pack and so do you,” my mother said, brushing my hand off of her leg as she pushed up to stand. At the time it didn’t register that she still had my magazine in her hand. “Mitchell, I need to talk to you,” Mom called out as she exited from the porch into the bed and breakfast.

“
Great, now I’m going to be in trouble with my dad. Amanda was so nice to me, now I’ll never see her again.” I sulked.

“
Don’t worry, dear...” Tara chimed in, “If your connection with her was as real as you claim, the strings that were tied between the two of you in those moments cannot be untied, not by anyone.” She smiled pointedly. For once, she quit dragging out her words and didn’t speak to me as if I were six years old. For a fraction of a second, she reminded me of my grandmother. I couldn’t wait to share all this with
her
when I got home.

Maybe Tara wasn’t so awful after all. I appreciated her profound words of hope that I would see Amanda again one day.

The good news, my flu-like symptoms had completely disappeared. I didn’t suffer any more painful knots in my stomach or any sudden heat flashes that weighed down my limbs. I felt like I could breathe again. I’d fallen hard and fast for my first love and had fallen out of it just as quickly; just like a typical teenager.

***

Sibling rivalry is a common force between sisters and brothers. By the time we arrived back home, my ghost story grew into a big fish story. I told everyone that the ghost materialized right before my eyes. Of course, I had to embellish my story to top Brett’s ghost story. He now knew how it felt to compete for our parents’ attention.

Granted, I never saw a ghost—nothing tangible anyway, but I certainly felt the presence of one in that old schoolhouse. This validated the fact that Storm was definitely not a ghost! I never felt the slightest fear when he spoke to me as I did when something touched me that day in the old schoolhouse. When you can’t see something but you know it’s there, that can be worse than seeing it. I’m not sure how I’d react if I had ever seen a ghost. I’d imagine scared to death. Then again, we all have a natural curiosity of wanted to see things we can’t.
Seeing is believing.

The voices I’d heard inside my head never scared me. I knew they were not evil entities like demons. I supposed not all ghosts were evil, but seriously, who wants to come face to face with someone who had died—I didn’t see the point.

After spring break and my ghost experience, things were a lot clearer. I didn’t necessarily believe my grandmother’s theory that Storm was an angel with wings and all, but I still believed he was an angel—one with broken wings, or working to get his.

-12-

Closing a Window

As the memories changed gears, I fought to retain them all. Suddenly, they were speeding by like on coming headlights on the Autobahn, racing by fast and then disappearing just as quickly.

The drug Doctor Tagorski had given me caused stars to zoom by in front of my eyes. As a teenager I’d suffered terrible migraines and right before the onset of one, I would see flashing lights—I hoped this wasn’t the return of them.

I felt terribly drowsy. The disturbing halos caused me to shut my eyes. I mumbled to myself as my mind drifted to a time I will never forget. No one could take this memory from me, not a brain injury, nor the gods, not even Dr. Tagorski.

***

Inside my grandmother’s old farmhouse the rays of the cold November sun were mellowed and warmed as they shone through the panes seedy,
faux
antique glass captured within the frames of the wood door.

An early snow blanketed the long blades of grass outside and a stream of dried autumn leaves blew across the lawn. It had not been manicured in months. My eyes captured the darkness of my father’s shadow against the nearby woodshed. He was struggling in the cold to cut some fresh logs to make a fire.

My eyes darted to an array of withered flowers, dying in crystal vases on the old wooden butcher-block table. A petal fell from one of the stems. I could almost hear it hitting the floor; the silence in the kitchen was unbearable.

“
Are you okay?” Storm asked.

Upon hearing Storm’s deep, low pitched voice, the pent up tears that I had been holding in for months released, and knowing that he was here and cared so much for me both comforted me and allowed me to let go of the grief that had held me captive since my grandmother’s passing. I’d never realized how much I really needed him. When I opened my mouth to speak, I tasted the tears on my lips.

“Oh Storm...you’re here. It’s so hard. I feel like I am falling apart,” I whispered forlornly, wiping away the tears that streamed down my cheeks. It had been a while since I had heard from Storm. Nothing too unusual.