Reason to Breathe (47 page)

“That may be an option.”

Evan shot me a sideways glance. “You want to
sneak out of your house?” he confirmed in astonishment.

“I can do this,” I declared out loud, trying
to convince myself more than Evan.

The repercussions of getting caught sent a
wave of nausea through me, but the thrill of getting away with it
convinced me that it was worth it. I wasn’t going to allow her to
control my life any longer. It was more important for me to try,
than to not have the chance at all. Where had I heard that
before?

“You are insane!” Sara exclaimed, when I told
her what I was planning to do. “If you get caught, we will never
see you again!”

“But Sara,” I argued, “aren’t you the one who
said that it was better to try and fail, than to never have the
experience?”

“That’s not quite what I said,” she
corrected. “Em, this is so much different than having a date with a
guy I may never see again. You could lose everything.”

I looked down at my uneaten lunch,
understanding her concern. If I were the same person I’d been six
months ago, we’d never be having this conversation. Too much had
happened, and I wasn’t ready to go back.

“Sara,” I explained lowly, “what do I really
have? If it weren’t for you and Evan, I wouldn’t even exist, or I
might as well not exist. I need more than school and sports to keep
me wanting to move forward. I can’t be that person anymore, not now
that I know the difference.”

Sara sat silently, breaking off pieces of her
cookie without eating them.

“Are you sure there isn’t a way for you to
move out of their house?” she finally questioned. “If you get
caught…” She couldn’t look me in the eye.

“I won’t get caught,” I assured her. We sat
in silence for a moment, picking at our food.

“Are you going to the award ceremony tomorrow
night?” Sara asked, changing the subject.

“I put it on the calendar, and they didn’t
say anything, so I think so.”

“Are you staying at school, or should my
parents and I pick you up at your house?”

“I’ll probably stay here. I have to work on
the newspaper and my History paper, so there’s no point in going
home.” There was never a point in going home, but it was
unavoidable, no matter how much I delayed the return. I didn’t have
any other choice.

~~~~~

“Congratulations,” she offered as Sara and I
walked into the cool spring evening.

I approached her but not with the shock of
our first encounter. I wasn’t surprised to see her, but I was
surprised by her sobriety. My mother appeared uncomfortably nervous
standing on the sidewalk. She had her hands in her jacket pockets,
glancing from the ground to my face, awaiting my reaction.

Sara didn’t continue to the parking lot but
waited a short distance away to give us room to talk. I walked
closer to the frail woman who I barely resembled except for her
dark brown hair and the almond shape of her eyes.

“I am so proud of you,” she said gently,
glancing up at me. “Captain next year, that’s great, Emily.”

“Co-captain,” I corrected. She smiled lightly
as she held my gaze with her sparkling eyes.

“I saw you play.” She smiled bigger.

“I know,” I answered quietly. “I heard you
yelling in the stands.” My mother’s bellows were unmistakable since
she was the only one yelling “Emily” amongst the cheering
crowd.

“I’ve decided to stop drinking,” she declared
proudly. “I haven’t had anything to drink since December.” I could
only nod, uncertain if I believed her words. I had no proof of the
alleged truth other than her current condition.

“I got a new job too,” she continued. “I’m an
executive assistant at an engineering firm a couple towns
over.”

“You moved to Connecticut?” I questioned,
shocked by this revelation.

“I wanted to be closer to you,” she told me
with an eager expression. “I was hoping we could see each other… if
you wanted to.”

My shoulders pulled back at this request.
“We’ll see,” I replied, unable to commit. She nodded with her
shoulder slumped in disappointment.

“I understand,” she whispered, looking at the
ground. “Are you okay?” She looked up at me again, searching for
more than the three words asked.

“I’m okay,” I assured her with a tight smile.
Her concerned eyes didn’t release their scrutiny.

“Would you mind if I went to some of your
track meets? I know they’re usually during the week, but if you
have a weekend meet, would it be all right?”

I shrugged. “If you want.” I really wanted to
tell her not to come - that I preferred not to see her again. But I
couldn’t look into her desperate eyes and reject her so
blatantly.

“I need to go,” I told her, nodding towards
Sara.

“Hi.” My mother acknowledged Sara with her
charming smile. “I’m Emily’s mother, Rachel.”

“Hi,” Sara responded with a kind smile of her
own. “I’m Sara. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Well, you girls be careful driving home,”
she told us. My eyebrows pulled together in reaction to her words.
The concern sounded strange coming from her mouth.

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” my mother
offered with welling eyes. I couldn’t stand to see the sentiment -
it contradicted everything I knew of her. She was the one who
didn’t want me. Why should she care now?

“Thanks,” I said and quickly turned away,
striding toward Sara’s car. Sara was a few quick steps behind me,
not expecting my sudden departure.

“Are you all right?” she asked when we neared
her car. “Did she say something wrong that I missed?”

“
Everything
she said was wrong,” I
declared, slipping into the passenger seat stiffly.

Sara studied me carefully before pulling out
of the spot. I knew she wanted to understand, but she couldn’t find
the words to ask me to explain. So I didn’t.

“Do you want to come over to my house for a
little while, or do you think they’re expecting you home?” Sara
asked. “My parents left from here to go to a dinner for my dad’s
company, so they won’t be home.”

“I should go home,” I decided quietly,
looking out the window. “She’s acting strange again, and I don’t
need her saying anything to me tonight. I don’t think I could let
her get away with it.”

I ignored Sara’s shocked expression and
continued to stare out the window.

~~~~~

“So what’s the plan?” Evan asked during our
walk to the Art room.

“There’s a park a few streets away from my
house,” I explained, having dwelled on the details all week. “Meet
me there at ten o’clock.”

“Will they be in bed by then?” I heard the
unease in his voice.

“No, but if we wait that long it will be so
late.” I exhaled slowly, recognizing the risk of trying to slip out
with them in the next room watching television. But I also knew
that they never came into my room at night, so I was fairly
confident they wouldn’t check on me while I was gone. “It’ll be
fine.”

“We don’t have to do this,” Evan offered.

“Are you backing out?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I just don’t want you
to get in trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I assured with forced
confidence.

“Okay.” He released a heavy breath before
kissing me on the top of my head.

With a promise of texting Sara on Sunday as
proof that I still existed, I exited her car to begin my gut
wrenching weekend with Carol. The only thing that kept me from
festering in fury was the thought of sneaking out to see Evan the
next night.

I spent Saturday in the yard raking while the
kids jumped in the piles of leaves. Carol was nowhere to be seen,
so being outside, surrounded by their laughter actually made the
day enjoyable. George arrived home soon after I was done bagging
the last pile. For such a small yard, it was astonishing how many
leaves sat under the snow all winter. While I was out there, I
moved the trash cans on the side of the house so I had a clear spot
to drop from under my window. I figured I could use the metal trash
can to climb back through the window when I returned, as long as I
remembered to stand on the rims of the can. I was also concerned
about moving the heavy can without it making noise. My stomach
turned just thinking about it. Of course we were the only family in
America who still owned metal trash cans – just my luck.

I had no appetite for dinner. I forced each
bite of the lasagna into my mouth. It wasn’t horrible since it was
one of the few dishes Carol could handle without disastrous
results. Not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention, I finished
the food on my plate. I gently pulled down my sleeve, reminded of
what Carol’s attention felt like.

Was it possible that I’d forgotten what she
was capable of? The enflamed skin along my forearm was a brand, a
reminder of her seething affection. Carol played off my contact
with the searing lasagna pan as an accident, but I saw her eyes
dance when I jumped back with a quick, pained inhale. Did I really
dare to test the limits of her loathing by sneaking out my
window?

My stomach turned anxiously as I stared at
the painted sky while washing dishes. I only had a few more hours
to decide if I was capable of doing this. I thought of Evan and
whether I could disappoint him. I knew he’d understand if I backed
out. Then I thought of how disappointed
I
would be, and
whether I could live with that. I absently rinsed the dishes and
placed them in the dishwasher, the movement of my shirt irritating
the raw bubbling skin.

I slipped into my room after taking out the
trash, checking the can placement once again. I considered burying
myself in homework to persuade time to pass quickly. But I knew I
wouldn’t be able to concentrate.

I opted to lie on my bed and drown my nausea
with music – it didn’t help. A thousand incoherent thoughts raced
through my head as I stared at the ceiling. I’d start to visualize
my escape route and then get worked up about the potential
disasters. Could I drop the distance from the window to the ground
without making a sound? Would one of the neighbors see me and say
something? What would I say if they discovered I was missing or
caught me outside? My stomach turned and my palms dampened.

I picked up my phone to text Evan that I
wasn’t going to meet him. I had the words displayed on the screen
and started pulling at my lower lip. Could I do this? I wanted to
see him so much. I couldn’t force myself to hit
Send
. I dug
my teeth into my lip and hit
Cancel
. I still had an hour and
a half to decide.

The seconds ticked away like minutes – I
couldn’t keep still. I tapped my foot rapidly in the air,
contemplating my choices. Should I give in to what I
wanted
to do or to what I
should
do? But why
shouldn’t
I get
to see Evan? Why was I letting them decide what was right for me?
It’s not like I was sneaking off to get drunk or get into any real
trouble. They never had to know. I swallowed hard and bit my lip
again.

The last forty-five minutes were the worst. I
thought the heat in my stomach was going to burn through my skin. I
shut off the music and listened to the low talking coming from the
TV through the wall. Eventually, I slid off my bed and walked
breathlessly to my closet with deliberate steps. I removed the
stuffed duffle bag from the closet, placed it on my bed, and folded
my comforter over it. I knew it didn’t look much like a body, but I
couldn’t bear the thought of having my bed completely flat in my
absence.

I examined the façade for a minute, almost
panting with anxiety. I ran through the plan in my head one more
time and inhaled quickly, biting my lip. Should I leave the window
open or will the cool air be noticed if they walked by my door to
go to the bathroom? How would I close it? I’d have to stand on a
trash can. I clenched my teeth and held my breath in agony just
thinking about moving it while they were a window away. I removed
the phone from my pocket and lingered over the buttons ready to
cancel once again.

Didn’t George just throw away an empty milk
crate that used to have paint cans in it? That would be high enough
for me to reach the window to close it. I put the phone back in my
pocket. I shut off my light with twenty minutes left to wait. I sat
on the floor with my knees drawn into me, staring up at the window.
I watched the stars blink through our neighbor’s swaying trees,
allowing the last few minutes to tick away. I could do this - I had
to believe that. I took a breath to calm the pounding in my
chest.

My hands shook as I placed my thumb and
finger under the ridge of the wooden frame along the cold pane of
glass. I held my breath, giving it a forceful, but restrained,
push. The frame gave way slightly, and the first gust of cool
spring air blew against my legs. I stopped to listen, with my pulse
beating in my ears. I could faintly hear the voices from the TV
continuing to play in the background but couldn’t sense any
movement.

I held my breath again and pushed the window
up further. I continued inching it up until it was completely open.
With my heartbeat in my throat, I slid a leg out the window and
laid my chest forward to slide my other leg through. I held on to
the wooden frame to drop to the ground. I nearly yelled out when I
felt the hands around my waist.

“Shhh,” he whispered in my ear, lowering me
to the ground. I leaned my back against the house, afraid I was
going to collapse from heart failure. I stared up at Evan with huge
eyes, my hands covering my frantic heart.

“Sorry,” he whispered. I covered his mouth,
silently begging him not to make any noise.

I searched around for the milk crate. It was
difficult to find in the small dark path between the house and the
fence, but I finally located the square shape along the fence and
placed it under the window. Evan realized what I was doing and
touched my arm to indicate that he’d do it. He stood on the crate
to lower the window. I pressed my lips together, barely breathing
as I watched him ease it into place.