Barely Breathing (21 page)

“The things you do get to choose, you put everything you have into them―school, sports, protecting the people you care about. And you chose me.”

Warmth fluttered through my chest. I had a hard time meeting his eyes.

“So your life
is not
messed up…” Evan paused, placing his forehead on mine, demanding my attention. "You've actually done a pretty amazing job at living it." He kissed me gently and pulled me into him.

"I love you," I murmured into his chest, holding him tighter. I tilted my head back and met his steel blue eyes.

"That I know too," he smirked, causing my mouth to drop open.

"Nice," I shot back, pushing him away. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back against him.

"I love you too," he whispered before tilting his head toward me.

I closed my eyes and felt the warmth of his breath on my lips just before they pressed into mine. I inhaled deeply at the touch of them, flutters instantly rushing through my chest. He ran his hand along the back of my neck, his mouth slipping across my parted lips.

My heart raced and my breath quickened as I pulled him into me. He unzipped my jacket and slid it off, dropping it on the table. The tease of his lips along my neck captured my breath as I hopped up onto the side of the pool table and wrapped my legs around him.

He slid his hands under me and picked me up, balancing me while walking toward the couch, our mouths frantically passing over the other's. My entire body was pulsing. He laid me on the couch and eased himself over me.

I ran my hands under his sweater and he pulled back to remove it. I sat up to run my lips along the hard lines of his chest, before pulling my t-shirt over my head. Evan grabbed the blanket at the end of the couch and pulled it over us as I reached for his waistband.

My quickened pulse stirred a heat that crept through my entire body. We eased across boundaries, unfastening bindings, slipping beneath fabric. Our lips brushed in a breathless exchange.

Our mouths pressed harder; our breath grew faster as our hands slid along curves. He inhaled quickly at my caress, his heart beating against my bare skin. His breathing quickened, and his muscles flexed along his back, the tension rippling through his entire body as he groaned in my ear. I gasped when he found me, closing my eyes. A flush swept across my skin at his gentle touch. I writhed under the growing sensation until I was released with an exhilarated breath.

Evan pulled the blanked tighter around us, exhaling deeply. "Wow."

"Yeah," I breathed, still unable to focus clearly. I tucked myself into his arm and rested my head on his chest, draping my leg over his. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he said, running his warm hand along my back.

"When are we going to have sex?"

"Umm..." Evan laughed. "I wasn't expecting
that
question."

I popped my head up to look at him. "I'm not saying that I don't like what we just did, it's just―"

"I know," he smiled. "We will. It's a big deal, and I don't want to do it on the couch in the garage, or in the backseat of a car. I want it to be what it should be."

"What if it's horrible?" I sulked, resting my chin on his chest. “I have no idea what I’m doing. You want it to be this epic moment, and I’m afraid I’m going to fail miserably.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Evan consoled with a small laugh. "I'm not worried." He released a calming breath and repeated, "Believe me, I'm not worried." He put his hand under my chin to pull me in for a kiss.

Despite his lack of concern regarding my sexual prowess, I
was
worried. No matter how much I tried not to let it consume me, it was all I could think about. I'd only been waiting for it to happen, since well... forever.

My phone rang as I lay on my bed later that night, waiting for Sara to respond to my text. I quickly pressed
Answer
.

“What’s going on?” Sara demanded before I could say hi.

“How was Cornell?” I asked, suddenly regretting sending the text.

“Shut up, Em,” Sara shot back. “Your text said you needed my help. What’s going on?”

After gathering myself, I finally stated bluntly, “Sara, I want to have sex.”

"Well, of course you do," she responded like I'd said the most obvious thing in the world.

“But what if I’m terrible at it?”

Sara started laughing hysterically. I hung up the phone. She called back ten seconds later.

“Sorry,” she offered calmly. “You’re serious. I thought you were having one of your delusional episodes.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Emma, you and Evan love each other, so there isn’t a wrong way of doing this. But I’ll give you some pointers if you want.”

I let out a short nervous laugh, the anxiety in my stomach squirming. “Maybe.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t draw diagrams or anything. Oh, or maybe I should.”

“Sara!”

“Emma, don't you dare act all embarrassed to talk about it,” she scolded. “
I’m
not the one to be telling anyone to have or not to have sex, but if you can't even talk about it with me, then maybe you're not ready. I know this is huge for you, and you of all people need to be emotionally prepared for it.”

“I know," I replied. "I mean, I'm ready―I think. What do you mean by
emotionally prepared
?"

“Well, you don’t trust… anyone, really. You barely trust me and Evan. And having sex is all trust. You can’t take it back once you do it, and it leaves you completely emotionally vulnerable. You trust him totally and completely, right?”

“Of course,” I answered automatically. How could I not trust Evan? Especially after everything we'd been through.

“Emma,” Sara scolded, “do you? No matter what’s happening in your life, however complicated and personal, you’d trust him with it?”

I wasn't sure why I hesitated, but a streak of panic flicked through me at the thought of being completely open with
anyone
, even Evan.

"Yes," I answered, without as much conviction.

“That’s what I thought,” she said honing in on the waver in my voice. “I’m not saying don’t have sex. I want you to. It’s amazing. I just want you to go into this completely aware of what happens to you after you put your clothes back on.”

“Thanks,” I sighed, feeling a little deflated. “See you in the morning?”

“Yes,” she replied enthusiastically. “I have so much to tell you!”

We said our good-byes and hung up.

I stared at the ceiling, contemplating trust. Evan was the most trustworthy person I knew. I believed in him, knowing he would never not be there for me. But when Sara asked if I trusted him enough to tell him my most personal secrets, I choked.

The vulnerability of letting someone,
anyone
, into the dark places I couldn't face myself was unfathomable. It wasn't because I didn't trust him. I didn't want to reveal them to anyone, not even me. After all, they were secrets for a reason.

17. Freaked

Sara looked like she was ready to burst with whatever it was she needed to tell me when I saw her the next morning. She was seriously glowing. But the first thing she did was swat me across the shoulder.

“Hey,” I hollered. “What was that for?”

“For going to Drew’s party and starting up the gossip chain when you let him drive you home.”

“Oh,” I shrunk guiltily. “It wasn’t a big deal. Nothing happened.”

“I know that, but people in this school are stupid. If you don’t want them talking about you, don’t do something that will make them talk.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said with a shrug. “They’ll talk about me even if I stand still all day.”

Sara laughed. “You’re probably right.”

“Are we done with this?” I questioned, slightly annoyed. “Are you going to tell me about your week, or what?”

Sara didn’t hold back. What she couldn’t fit in before our first class she continued with at lunch. I don’t think Evan was all that thrilled to hear her talking about his brother. He finally said something about needing to talk to his coach before the next period. I was pretty sure he just needed to escape.

“I’ll see you in Art.” He departed with a kiss on my cheek.

“What’s with him?” Sara asked, noting his sudden need to leave.

“Sara, you’re dating his
brother
. Don’t you think it’s kind of weird for him?”

She shrugged as if she hadn’t considered it before. “I guess. I don’t know.” When she’d exhausted all things Jared, she blurted, “So what do you want to know about sex?”

My eyes widened, not braced for the question
in the middle of the cafeteria
.

“Tell me what you’ve done so far,” she inquired with all the seriousness of a therapist.

“Do we really need to talk about this now? You’re the one who warned against giving ammunition to circulating rumors. This is definitely not something I want anyone overhearing.”

“Fine,” she replied. “Come over after practice tonight.”

I hesitated. I wasn’t embarrassed to talk about sex, I was just… okay maybe I was a little. It wasn’t like I’d ever had
the talk
. What I knew, I’d learned in health class, so I wasn’t exactly well versed on the subject. Sara would share stories, but she’d never go into explicit detail, like auditory porn or anything.

“If you get any more red I think you may catch fire,” Sara observed with a shake of her head. “Just come over later, okay?”

“Okay.”

When we returned to our lockers after lunch, Sara pulled a textbook from her messenger bag. “This will help.”

I took the book and my eyes spread wide at the title,
Our Sexuality
. "Omigod, are you serious?" I flipped through the pages and shut it quickly when I saw way more skin than I was anticipating.

“It’s a college textbook,” Sara explained casually. “Thought you might appreciate the technical explanations versus the
Cosmo
version―you know, the science behind it.”

“Uh, thanks.” I went to shove it in my locker and it fell to the floor, spreading open with the spine up.

“Here,” Evan said, bending down to pick up the splayed textbook. I scooped it up before he could touch it, my pulse racing so fast I couldn’t talk.

“What was that?” he questioned, when I stuffed it in my backpack.

“Just pointers on how to pleasure you,” Sara whispered with a smirk before walking away. I about fell over. I looked up at Evan with my mouth dropped open. He arched a brow curiously.

“Really?”

“We’re going to be late for class,” I rushed, slamming my locker door shut. My heart was pounding so hard I was beginning to sweat. He let out an amused laugh and followed after me.

“You don’t need the textbook,” Evan murmured in my ear from his stool beside me.

“Evan!” I strained in a whisper with wide eyes.

“Sara has no idea, does she?” he continued with a sly grin.

“We are not talking about this,” I stated adamantly, burying my fiery face in my hands. He chuckled.

“Good afternoon,” Ms. Mier greeted from the front of the class, setting a large piece of wood on an easel. “Today we are going to create visual art using nails.” On the board was a profile of a woman created with various oxidized nails pounded into the wood at different depths and angles to create a three dimensional work of art. I was fascinated by the technique―the way the nails created the slope of her cheek bone and tilt of her nose.

“I’ve laid out boxes of nails for you to work with. You can each select a plank of wood and a hammer to get started.”

“I can guarantee I’ll have a purple thumb by the end of this assignment,” I commented, turning towards Evan. He nodded, not looking at me.

We retrieved the supplies from the front of the classroom. I was considering what I wanted to create while filling my bowl with nails.

When I got back to the stool, Evan had the hammer balanced in his hand―examining it like he’d never seen one before. He ran his eyes over it, appearing a million miles away.

“Evan?” I sat down and tilted my head toward him to look up at his face. “Evan, are you okay?”

He was pale and wouldn't focus on me. “Evan, what’s wrong?”

Without a word, he set down the hammer and left the room. It took me a moment to realize he’d just walked out. I rushed to the door to go after him, but he wasn’t in the hall. I stood in the middle of the corridor, at a complete loss.

I returned to the Art room and slowly lowered onto my stool.

“Is everything okay with Evan?” Ms. Mier questioned when she came around and found Evan’s spot vacant.

I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I didn't make much progress with the assignment because I kept watching the door, waiting for him to return. He never came back.

Evan wasn’t at my locker after class either. I took my phone out of my backpack and texted,
Where are you? Are you okay?

I set the phone to vibrate and stuffed it in the front pocket of my jeans, pulling my sweater over it so my Calculus teacher wouldn’t see it.

Halfway through class, my phone vibrated. I slipped it out and held it under my desk to read,
Not feeling great―went home

I read it again, baffled.

Want me to come by after practice?

Evan responded,
No. See you tomorrow OK?

Nothing about this felt right. He hadn’t seemed sick all day. I was obviously missing something, but I didn’t know what else to think so I typed,
Okay.

“I’m going to go home after practice tonight,” I told Sara as we gathered our things at the end of the day.

“Everything okay?” she asked, taking in my somber mood.

“I hope so,” I answered before shutting my locker door. “I’ll call you later.”

“Alright,” she answered, studying me as I skulked away.

I called Evan as soon as I got in my car after practice. He didn’t answer. I was wrecked with worry by the time I got home, my stomach twisted into knots.

“Maybe he’s really sick,” Sara consoled when I called.

“Maybe,” I agreed, but I didn’t really believe it.