Barely Breathing (11 page)

I finally threw the covers off, resigned to start the day, despite the lack of sun. I slid on a pair of socks and rifled through my drawers, pulling out clothes for the day before dragging my feet toward the bathroom. I paused outside my door when I noticed the kitchen light was on, creating a soft glow in the dark foyer. The coffee maker gurgled, and the robust aroma drifted up the stairs.

Jonathan emerged from the kitchen with his hair wet and brushed back, creating smooth dark waves. He was dressed in a shirt and tie. His professional attire made him appear older. This mature look made me grin. He looked so... grown up in a GQ sort of way. Jonathan stopped abruptly when he spotted me, startled.

“Sorry,” I said. My cheeks flushed with color at being caught watching him.

He held his finger to his mouth and pointed to my mother’s door. “She’s still sleeping.” I nodded in understanding. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” I whispered in return.

He continued to the closet to remove his jacket and set the strap of his computer bag over his shoulder. He raised his hand in a wave before slipping out the front door. I watched him leave without a word, finding my hand still frozen in the air long after the front door had closed and his truck could be heard starting up.
Why am I still standing here?
I thought as I shook out of my daze and continued to the bathroom to shower and prepare for the day.

“Rachel’s here,” Sara informed me as I was getting ready to run out on the court for our night game. “Oh, and we’re going to a party tonight after the game.”

I watched her walk into the gym, waving to somebody with an exaggerated smile, mouthing, “Hi.” I stared after her in shock. What kind of bomb was that to drop right before a game with our school’s rival?!

I could hear my mother screaming my name as I dribbled the ball down the court. I blocked her and the rest of the chanting crowd out as I called the plays to put my teammates in motion. I let the movement on the court keep me focused.

I passed the ball to Jill outside the key along the baseline. She dribbled in toward the net and popped it back to me. Another teammate set up a pick to allow me to dribble down the paint and lay it in. The bleachers erupted, but all I could hear was a buzz of voices.

Weslyn walked away with a three point win, thanks to Jill’s aggressive rebounding and unshakable accuracy on the free throw line. I held my own, contributing double digit points and multiple assists. I was relieved to walk away with the win.

I grabbed my things from the bench and heard “Emily!” among the crowd of faces. I turned to spot my mother walking toward me, and nearly fell over when I spotted Jonathan a few steps behind her.

“Hi,” she greeted with a smile. “So glad we came to this game. It was intense.”

I smiled awkwardly, my face fiery as I looked everywhere but at him.

"Nice game," Jonathan congratulated, moving in closer to my mother.

"Thanks," I replied, my pulse racing. I had no idea why I was so nervous to see him. It wasn't like I'd never met him before.

“I was hoping you were going to score more so Jonathan could see your outside shots, especially the three-pointers.”

“The defense was tough,” I returned with a shrug. “But thanks for coming.”

“Are you coming home?”

“Umm, I guess Sara wants to go to a party or something.” I wiped the sweat off my chin using my shoulder, scanning the gym for Sara and Evan. But I knew they’d be in the lobby like they usually were after my games, nowhere around to rescue me from the awkwardness.

“Have fun,” she replied. “See you later then?”

“Yeah.” I glanced up to catch his eye as he nodded with a smile. My mother took his hand and blended in with the remaining fans exiting the gym.

“
Who
was that?”

I turned to find Jill and Casey standing behind me, practically drooling.

“My mother,” I responded casually, knowing exactly who they meant. That's when it occurred to me why I'd been so uncomfortable. Every girl in the school was ogling over him as he and my mother made their way out of the gym. It was kinda pathetic.

“And
he’s
her boyfriend?” Jill asked, still gawking after his perfectly placed hair.

“I guess,” I mumbled, shaking my head as they practically melted in front of me. I grabbed my warm ups and stranded them by the bench, staring.

“And why did you tell Evan he couldn’t hang out with us at the party?” I asked when we pulled out of the school parking lot.

“I need girl time,” Sara explained briefly. “And besides, does he always have to hang out with us?”

“We’re going to
a party
,” I pointed out bluntly. “If you want
girl time
then we should do something else. And
no
, he does not always have to hang out with us, and he doesn’t. Did he do something wrong? What's going on with you? You've been acting kinda strange lately.”

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine," she sighed impatiently. Her perpetual bad mood was so very confusing, and far from resembling my best friend―it was freaking me out. And what, if anything, did it have to do with Evan?

We walked in the side door between the house and the garage. Bass boomed from the basement; laughter and hollering could be heard further down the hall. This house was modest compared to some of the monstrosities in Weslyn. We were considered on “the other side of town,” closer to where I used to live.

We ventured toward the laughter to find a group sitting around the kitchen table with cards in their hands and red cups in front of them, demanding one another to drink for various absurd reasons. There were others crammed into the small kitchen, either leaning against the Formica counters or passing through to get to the keg.

Sara made her way to the back porch where the keg rested in a trash can filled with snow.

“Can you stay over tonight?” she asked before taking a cup from the stack.

“Sure,” I replied with a shrug, hugging myself with a shiver. I texted my mother as we walked back through the kitchen, then followed Sara down the shag carpeted stairs to the basement. I stopped at the bottom when I saw Evan playing pool to the right and hesitated long enough to wave and apologize with a grimace as I continued after Sara in the other direction. We walked into a small, wood paneled space with a beat up couch covered in multi-colored afghans and a console television pushed into a hollowed out fireplace.

Mandy Cochran smiled at the sight of us, shuffling through the bodies to get to where we stood, while Sara inspected the scene. I didn’t really know Mandy; she played volleyball with Sara. But this was her house, so I knew we should at least make an effort to say hi.

Sara scanned the room, not thrilled with what she saw. “Back upstairs,” she insisted, completely ignoring Mandy. My face twitched in confusion, but I followed after her anyway. I held up my hand to wave in apology when I saw Mandy’s smile fade as she watched us disappear up the stairs.

By the time we were back in the kitchen, Sara needed a refill. Instead of following her out to the deck like a pathetic sidekick, I took a seat on a wooden stool next to the kitchen counter. I watched the card game, trying to figure out the rules and if there was a point to the absurdity. I quickly discovered there really wasn’t a point―it was all about getting drunk and making people do stupid things in the process. I sighed and shook my head.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Jill exclaimed when she and Casey walked into the kitchen with pink bottles in their hands. “Where’s Evan?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, making a face―finding it strange that was the first question they asked. “I’m here with Sara.”

“Ooh, are you fighting?” Casey pursued, leaning in like she was about to hear a secret.

“No,” I answered, drawing out the “o” and looking at them like they were crazy. “I think he’s downstairs playing pool.”

“So what do you know about your mother’s hot boyfriend?” Jill drilled.

“Not much,” I replied shortly, annoyed with the question.

“I think he may be hotter than Evan,” Casey interjected.

“No,” Jill argued, then paused and said, "Okay, maybe."

“Seriously?!” I finally interrupted, wanting to put an end to the conversation.

“I was just saying,” Jill retorted defensively.

“That’s messed up,” I shot back. “You don’t compare my boyfriend with my mother’s. That’s so very twisted.”

“True,” Casey agreed, “but he is―”

I walked away before she could finish. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a big enough house to lose them, so I slipped into the bathroom when I saw the door open. This was the first party I’d been to in Weslyn since last May. Apparently, I hadn’t missed much.

I looked around for Sara upon exiting the bathroom and found her talking to a tall blond with dark eyebrows in the corner. They were laughing and leaning toward each other, her hand occasionally brushing his arm―all the signature flirting moves.

“That’s Neil’s cousin,” Jill explained from beside me. She had apparently been waiting for me to get out of the bathroom. “He’s visiting for the weekend from New Hampshire.”

“Oh great,” I groaned. This was not going to go over well. And right on cue, Sara’s smile faltered. She turned abruptly and stormed out onto the deck. The guy was left dumbstruck, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. The girls giggled next to me, indicating that not only did they witness the ditching, now everyone at the party would know about it as well.

I sighed and followed after Sara.

“Hey.”

She continued to pour the beer into her red cup, not looking up.

Before I could find the words to make her feel better, which wasn’t something I was used to doing, I heard, “I dare you to jump.”

I looked over and a guy with a dark green flannel shirt and a backward baseball hat was standing on the top railing of the deck.

“Is he serious?” I asked Sara. She just let out an amused laugh.

Then he was gone. I rushed to the railing. All I could see was his baseball hat. The rest of him had disappeared into the mountainous snow bank below the deck. He thrust his arms out of the snow and tilted his head back, releasing a guttural holler of triumph. I was stunned to see him emerge in one piece.

That’s when the insanity took over. More guys leapt into the snowdrift, yelling and whooping as they leapt off the railing.

I had no interest in watching these guys break their necks, so I went back inside, discovering Sara was already there. I passed Evan as he and a few guys made their way out onto the deck to watch the recklessness. I caught his eye and he brushed his hand along mine. That subtle connection sent a current through my body with a warm shiver.

Sara slammed her red cup down, redirecting my attention. “Let’s get out of here.”

As we pulled down the street, two police cars drove past with their lights on. I wondered where they were going. Then it hit me that the neighbors must have called them. There weren’t acres of land or trees separating the houses on this street, so the noise in the backyard probably carried, disrupting the neighborhood.

I glanced over at Sara to say something about the busted party, but she remained still, staring out the window. I wanted to say something, but I had no idea
what
to say. Just as I was about to break the silence, she exclaimed, “New Hampshire! He was from fucking New Hampshire!” She clenched her fists. “Are you kidding me?! This is so not funny!”

My mouth dropped open. She continued to rant about how well they got along. He had even asked her to go out this weekend before he finally told her where he lived―indicating that they’d probably never see each other again.

"Sara, you have to tell me what's going on with you," I demanded emphatically. "And don't say 'nothing', because I know there is. It can't just be this guy."

"There's nothing wrong with me," she snapped, practically biting my head off.

"Really?" I countered defensively. "I think there is because you're acting like a bitch."

And just like that the car was silent, and I was filled with remorse. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," I said as we pulled into the driveway. "I'm just frustrated because I don't understand what's going on."

"I'm fine," she huffed, slamming the car door after her.

A new round of snow started to come down when I stepped out of the car. Perfect. We'd just finished shoveling the last storm. This winter was as miserable as Sara.

I walked up the stairs after Sara, who refused to even look at me. My phone beeped as she shut the bathroom door.

Meet me out front when Sara passes out.

I remained as patient as I could, staying in the bathroom, pacing, while I waited for her to groan herself to sleep. Fifteen minutes later, I slipped out and poked my head into the bedroom to the sound of deep breaths.

I crept down the stairs and out the front door. Evan was sitting on the front steps, snow coating his knit hat. He stood when I stepped out.

“Finally.” He pulled me toward him, my hand still on the door knob, barely closing it behind me. I breathed him in as he pressed his firm lips against mine. I melted in relief, needing this connection more than he realized. “That bad, huh?” Then again, maybe he did realize.

“You got out just in time,” Evan relayed, sitting next to me. “The cops showed up and broke up the party.”

“Yeah, we saw them,” I muttered, still feeling guilty about what I'd said to Sara. I sat down on the top step, not caring that I was sitting on a sheet of snow.

Evan sat down next to me. “Are you okay?” He nudged my shoulder with his and took my hand.

“I have no idea what’s wrong with Sara. She’s miserable.” Then I considered it and realized, “She’s been a little off for a while now, but it wasn't that bad until now. Something happened and she won't tell me what.”

“Huh,” Evan breathed in contemplation. “I think I know what to do.”

I looked at him hopefully. He pulled out his phone and looked at the screen.

“What? What should we do?” I demanded desperately.

“Oh, sorry,” Evan replied, distracted as he texted. “It's Jared.”