Reason to Breathe (20 page)

Evan scooted toward me and placed his warm
hand on my cheek, brushing away the escaped tear.

“She’ll forgive you,” he said lowly. He
pulled me towards him and put his arms around me. I buried my head
in his chest and released the seeping tears. After a time, I
collected myself and pulled away.

“How is it you always see me at my best?” I
asked, trying to smile, feeling emotionally exposed.

“It’s not a bad thing.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but decided to
leave it alone.

“Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure.”

I entered the small bathroom with the
pedestal sink, toilet and glass enclosed shower, closing the door
behind me. I rinsed the emotions away, splashing my face with cool
water. I took in the light brown eyes looking back at me and urged
myself to recover. After drying my face with a towel, I inhaled a
calming breath before opening the door. It didn’t hurt that the
breath contained Evan’s soothing scent.

Evan was sitting against the headboard again,
flipping through channels on the flat-screen.

“Still haven’t unpacked?” I asked, nodding
toward the boxes marked “Evan’s room” that remained unopened under
the empty built-in bookcase, and another box beneath the only
window.

“Getting there,” he replied casually.

“How is it that the rest of your house looks
like people have been here for years, and you can’t finish putting
away a few boxes?”

Evan let out a quick laugh.

“We have moving down to a science. My mother
plans out in advance where everything is to be displayed, stored,
and hung; then they hire the same moving company we’ve used for
every move. They not only pack and move us, but then unpack us when
they arrive. We walk in, and this is already done. The only thing
they don’t touch is my stuff.”

“And…” I pushed for him to explain the reason
for his taped boxes.

“Well… I haven’t decided if I’m staying.”
Something shot through me – I couldn’t tell what it was, but it
felt a little like panic.

“Oh,” I murmured.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.” I walked around to the vacant side of
the bed and propped the other pillow up to sit next to Evan.

He found an action movie he had saved in his
digital movie library. I didn’t last very long before my eyes
became heavy. Being miserable was exhausting. I surrendered to
their weight and drifted to sleep.

“Emma,” Evan whispered in my ear. It took me
a minute to comprehend that his voice was real. “Em, the movie’s
over.” His voice sounded too close.

My eyes popped open. My head had slipped into
the hollow of his shoulder, with his arm resting on the top of my
pillow. I pushed myself up to sit on my own, still trying to blink
the sleep from my eyes.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep through the
entire thing.” I stretched my arms over my head, expecting to be
sore or stiff – surprised to find that I wasn’t.

“It’s okay,” he said with a laugh. “I think
you drooled on my shirt though.”

My mouth dropped open. “I did not.”

“I’m just kidding.” He laughed louder.

“You’re such a jerk,” I declared, throwing my
pillow at his head.

Evan took the pillow and swung it back at me.
I jumped up, standing on the bed, and grabbed the pillow from
behind him. I swung it, connecting with his back. He tackled my
legs out from under me, and I toppled on the bed, igniting my back.
He proceeded to pelt me in the face with a pillow.

“That’s cheating,” I murmured from under the
pillow, trying to dismiss my discomfort. “No tackling.”

“You can tackle,” he defended.

“Fine.” I charged, pushing him onto his back
with all my force and sat on his chest, pinning down his arms with
my knees, connecting his face with the swing of a pillow.

“Uh, playing dirty,” he grunted as he flipped
me over, easily sliding his arms out from under my weight. He was
poised over me with his hands on either side of my head, his body
still, between my knees. He held himself above me, looking down
with a smirk. I could feel his warm breath on my face, and the
burning along my back disappeared. We both recognized at the same
time the close proximity of our bodies and that neither of us was
holding a pillow. I stopped breathing, looking up at him with wide
eyes, watching his smirk slowly disappear.

“Want to play pool?” I asked, quickly rolling
out from under him as he fell to his side. In a continuous motion,
I stood and grabbed my shoes before leaving the room. Evan looked
after me from his bed, still propped up on his side as I scurried
down the stairs.

He sauntered into the kitchen with his cheeks
flushed.

“Want a bottle of water?” he offered,
casually opening the refrigerator.

“Sure,” I said, unable to ignore the fire
engulfing my back from the pillow fight. “Do you mind if we play
darts instead?” I asked. While his back was turned, I washed down a
few ibuprofen that I had stuffed in my pocket.

“Works for me,” Evan commented, studying my
face for a moment. I grinned before he saw the pain dart across my
eyes. He grinned back and I followed him to the garage.

After a few rounds of practice, my thoughts
drifted to the unpacked boxes in his room.

“I thought you liked it here?” I watched him
hesitate before throwing a dart.

“What do you mean?”

“You said you didn’t know if you were
staying, and that’s why you haven’t unpacked.”

Evan stopped before he threw the last dart,
and turned to face me. “Are you worried you’d miss me if I left?”
he asked with a wry grin.

I raised my eyebrows in disapproval – I
refused to answer.

“I like it here,” he finally said, after
tossing his last dart. “Honestly, I’ve never completely unpacked
anywhere. I still had unopened boxes after living in San Francisco
for over two years.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, stopping to think
about it. “Maybe I was never completely convinced I was going to
stay – and look, I was right. You didn’t answer my question – would
it bother you if I left?”

I shrugged, “I’d survive.” I smiled, giving
away my inability to be serious.

“Now you’re the jerk,” he said, smirking
back. “Don’t worry; I won’t throw darts at you.”

The rest of the afternoon passed with darts
and foosball, allowing my back to cool to a simmer. Evan still won
every game; but he appeared impressed when I didn’t lose by much. I
kept my sorrow at bay while in his company, thankful he helped me
escape the rest of my day at school. It was so hard to be there
with Sara, knowing she was so angry with me. But it was harder to
go home.

My smile faded when I got into his car. Evan
noticed my solemn transition, but he didn’t say anything to
distract me from my silence as I braced myself for the tension that
still festered in my house.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said softly, as I
opened the car door. I nodded and then stopped to look at him.

“Thank you for today.” I offered him a small
smile. He lightly smiled back.

“Whose car was that?” Carol questioned as
soon as I walked through the door.

“Sara’s car is getting a tune up,” I lied; a
spasm of anxious nerves shot from my stomach through my chest,
fearing she’d see right through it. I kept walking to my room
without hesitating before I could find out.

~~~~~

I was greeted with the same mixed feelings of
seeing Evan’s car when I walked down my driveway the next morning.
The improbability of Sara forgiving me was sinking in. I was so
very cruel; how could I blame her. Besides, why would she want to
put up with my insane life anymore? I wasn’t sure how I was still
coping.

I knew I’d never be able to confide in Evan
the way I did Sara. I was still struggling with allowing him to be
as close as he was. I suppose I was selfish to think that Sara
would always be there. We came from two completely different
worlds, and the reality of these differences was unavoidable. It
was only a matter of time.

Evan allowed me to grieve without much
intervention. He escorted me through the bustle of the halls to
each of my classes, and somehow, I got through the day. The
teachers’ incoherent lessons hummed in my ears. The minutes crept,
and the hollowness grew. Sometime during the day, Evan disappeared
too. I almost didn’t notice until I rounded the corner to my locker
and saw him standing in front of it with his back to me.

Evan was talking to someone. He seemed really
upset. Then I saw the red hair shaking back and forth. My feet kept
me moving forward against my will. I couldn’t hear their voices,
but her face looked so sad. Evan’s hands were pleading.

Then I heard, “Sara, please tell me what
happened. She’s devastated, and I need to understand why.”

“If she hasn’t told you, then I can’t.”

Her eyes caught mine. I froze a few lockers
away, unable to process what was happening. Sara closed her locker
and rushed away. Evan slowly turned to acknowledge me. I examined
him with narrowed eyes, trying to understand.

“Why did you do that?” I accused,
horrified.

“If you only knew what I’ve seen for the past
two days, you would have done the same thing.”

I still didn’t understand. His intrusion
rocked me, and I needed to get away from him. I turned and dodged
my way through the crowd, my books still clutched to my chest.

“Emma, wait,” he pleaded, but he didn’t come
after me.

I ducked into the bathroom and found an empty
stall. I pressed my back against the partition, remembering Sara’s
sad expression. I allowed the tears to burn down my cheeks while
the scene replayed in my head. I didn’t know why I wasn’t relieved
that she hadn’t told anyone about my situation - maybe because I
never thought she would.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t be angry
with Evan. I didn’t like that he upset Sara, but I knew it wasn’t
his fault. He really had no idea what he was walking into. Could I
continue to allow him to be a witness to my misery without an
explanation? Knowing I wouldn’t ever tell him what came between
Sara and me and that I could never confide in him if something were
to happen to me again, only left me with one answer. I needed to
give him up. I struggled with the decision, but it was something I
always knew I’d have to do.

15.
Relentless

“It’s nice to see you using such vibrant colors,” Ms. Mier noted as
she stood behind me, admiring my painting. “You have always used
such deep colors in the past, still with extraordinary results, but
this is refreshing. Whatever’s changed, I like it.”

Then she walked on to the next easel. I
leaned back and looked at the nearly completed portrait of the fall
foliage. Before Ms. Mier approached, I was thinking that the colors
were too bright and unrealistic. The paint brush in my hand was
coated with a burnt orange, to fade the fiery hues on the canvas. I
set the brush down and stared at the colors again. They were
blinding to my dull eyes.

I continued to stare at the blur of colors
until Ms. Mier asked everyone to begin cleaning up. Startled by the
sudden movement, I looked around and clumsily began gathering my
supplies. I caught Evan standing in the back of the room, by the
photography supplies, watching me with concern. I continued
cleaning up my unused paints, ignoring him.

“Do you want to study for the Anatomy test
with me?” Evan asked when we left the room.

“Uh… no, I can’t,” I stumbled. “I have to
work on the paper.”

“I can go with you.”

“No, that’s okay,” I said quickly, barely
giving him a glance. “I think I’d rather be alone.”

“Okay,” he said slowly and continued down the
hall when I stopped at my locker.

I was forced to look after him, reminding
myself that closing him out was the right thing to do. The right
thing felt horrible - my eyes followed him until he rounded the
corner. My heart ached, and for a second I reconsidered my
decision, but I shook it off and opened my locker.

Soccer practice was not only hard physically
but emotionally as well. Having to interact with Sara without
connecting was torturous. When we weren’t on the field, she
remained as far away from me as she could. When we were on the
field, she’d only pass to me when she didn’t have any other
choice.

“Lauren, would you be able to give me a ride
home today?” I asked when we were standing on the sidelines during
one of the drills.

“Sure,” she answered without hesitation.

I kept walking alongside Lauren after
practice, without looking at Evan as he waited for me by his car. I
felt his eyes follow me to her car. I reminded myself again that it
was for the best. But it didn’t help.

“Thank you for doing this,” I said to Lauren,
ducking into her dark blue Volvo.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into
when I asked Lauren to drive me home. She was very sweet, but she
talked non-stop the entire drive. I heard about the homecoming
dance and how Sara and Jason won homecoming king and queen, but
neither had shown up. I tried to conceal my shock. She assumed I
knew why they weren’t there and tried to get me to confess. She
obviously hadn’t noticed Sara and I weren’t talking. Why did she
think she was driving me home? I played it off and said that I
didn’t know either.

Lauren went on about soccer and the upcoming
game. She was obviously excited to make it to the championships as
captain for her senior year. I was given the details of every
college she applied to and how she was having a hard time deciding
which she preferred. Did most girls talk this much? I tried to
figure out how she breathed in-between each sentence. The topics
blurred together like the scenery, and I was almost relieved when
she stopped at my house, feeling exhausted after having listened to
her.