Reason to Breathe (55 page)

Warm tears slid down my face. George lifted
me just as Carol was returning with a towel. Her eyes pleaded with
George. He grabbed the towel from her without giving her a glance
and carefully wrapped it around my arm to catch the flowing
blood.

“George, I’m so sorry,” she whimpered.

“We’ll talk about this when I get back,” he
snapped still unable to look at her. He opened the door for me, and
I followed him to his truck wordlessly. He didn’t say anything
either as he opened the passenger door. I climbed in, exhaling with
an aggravated grunt as the movement forced the splinters in
deeper.

The silence continued until we arrived at the
hospital. We were admitted immediately and enclosed by curtains in
the emergency room. The doctor examined the cuts before numbing the
area to remove the glass and assess which cuts needed stitches.

I sat on the bed mindlessly listening to the
chunks of glass cling as they hit the bottom of the metal bowl. I
couldn’t stop the flowing tears that was dripping from my chin as
much as I tried to swallow them away. I shivered when the doctor
poked and examined the exposed tissue for additional slivers. I
eventually surrendered to the nothingness while the needle pulled
the torn skin together.

George tensed when the doctor asked me to
explain how it happened. My lying had become more convincing over
the past couple of months, so the story of slipping backward on the
wet floor spilled out easily. I didn’t care if the doctor believed
me, but he didn’t seem to doubt me. We were there several hours
before we were finally on our way home.

“I’m going to take care of this,” George
stated lowly during our drive home. “Just go to your room, and let
me handle it, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“There has to be a way for the two of you to
live together,” he mumbled to himself.

I knew by his tone that he still believed I
had as much to do with this, if not more, than she did. I clenched
my teeth, clearly understanding that he would always side with her,
and as long as he did, she would never stop.

I expected Carol’s car to be gone when we
arrived home. I didn’t know why I expected it. Maybe I was hoping
she would’ve left. But her blue Jeep sat motionless in the driveway
when we pulled in behind it. I slid down from the passenger seat,
careful of my bandaged arm, and lumbered silently into the
house.

Carol had swept up the glass and taped a
piece of clear plastic to the door, covering the hole the shattered
pane left behind. She was nowhere to be seen as I walked to my
room, closing the door behind me. My arm was still numb for the
most part, but it was already starting to throb. I lay on my bed,
staring at the ceiling, too exhausted to succumb to either anger or
sadness. I allowed my thoughts to dull, enveloped by numbness,
comforting me like a familiar blanket.

I heard a murmur of heated voices upstairs
and the cries of Leyla and Jack. I closed my eyes to block it out.
I thought I recognized her sobbing voice, pleading with him. Then
there was silence. He came down the stairs and walked into the
kitchen. The exhaustion eventually won over and I drifted to
sleep.

I didn’t wake until the morning. I blinked,
realizing I was still dressed and lying on top of my bedding. I
glanced at the clock; my alarm was ten minutes away from going
off.

I propped myself up. The sharp fire shot
through my arm. I bolted upright, drawing in a quick breath through
my teeth. The doctor told me I couldn’t get the stitches wet for
the first twenty-four hours, and so the thought of how I would
manage a shower made me collapse onto my back again with a
frustrated sigh. Then I thought of how I still had to face Sara and
Evan, and I groaned. Wasn’t there any way I could avoid going to
school today?

I opted for a sponge bath, to avoid the
impossibility of a one armed shower, and put my hair up so it
wasn’t obvious that I hadn’t washed it. I noticed the house was
eerily still when I walked out of the bathroom. I paused in the
hall, not hearing a sound except for the hum of the
refrigerator.

I cautiously walked into the kitchen,
listening intently. There was no movement in the kitchen or the
dining room. A bag was set on the island with a note attached to
it, next to a key.

This is the ointment to put on your stitches
twice a day. Carol is staying with her mother for a few days. She
just needs space. Everything will be different. Use the key to lock
up when you leave.

I read the note over several times, shaking
my head. He really believed it was going to be different? The tears
welled in my eyes, forcing their way down my cheeks. I wiped them
away and swallowed the lump in the back of my throat.

I put the bag of bandages and ointment on my
desk and gathered my books before leaving the house to meet Evan. I
locked the kitchen door behind me, struck by the distinct click of
the bolt when I turned the key - a sound that I’d never made
before. I continued to fight against the tears before clomping down
the stairs.

“Is she here?” Evan asked quietly after I
shut the car door behind me. I shouldn’t have been surprised that
he noticed. As much as I was hoping the long sleeved shirt would
conceal my bandages, the bulky wrap left a distinct bulge. I
suppose my sunken frame clued him in as well.

“No,” I whispered, looking out the window.
“She’s staying with her mother for a few days.”

“You can’t stay here anymore.”

“I know,” I mouthed, unable to make a sound.
My eyes stung as I blinked back the tears unable to look at him. My
mind remained blank, not wanting to think of what his words really
meant. We drove in silence the entire way to school.

When we pulled into the school’s parking lot,
Evan shut off the car and shifted his body to face me.

“Emma?” he beckoned softly, making me turn
towards him. “Are you okay?” I shook my head.

His hand brushed along my cheek, and I
collapsed into his arms, sobbing against his chest. He held me
until I couldn’t cry anymore. I brushed the tears from my face and
looked up into his glassy eyes. Seeing the pain in them tore at my
heart. He kissed me softly, keeping his eyes closed when I pulled
away.

“Do you want to go
now
?” he asked,
when he was able to look at me again.

“
Now
?” I choked.

“Why not? What are we waiting for?”

The understanding of what he wanted to do
suddenly weighed heavily in my stomach. Images of packing my bags
and escaping with him ran through my head, causing my throat to
close and adrenaline to rush through my veins. It was too much for
me to process.

“Tomorrow,” I implored, needing one more day
to collect my thoughts. “She’s not staying at the house tonight.
Let me have the night to pack, and we can leave tomorrow, whenever
you want.”

Evan studied my face as I pleaded with my
eyes.

“No one will be home when you leave in the
morning, right?” he confirmed.

“Right.”

“Then when I pick you up tomorrow morning,
have whatever you want to take ready, and we’re gone.”

My heart skipped a beat as I nodded. Could I
really do this? Leave everything behind and risk my entire future
to escape her? Allowing her to destroy me didn’t seem right, not
after everything I’d been through. I needed the twenty-four hours
to decide what to do.

Evan and I missed homeroom and had to stop at
the office for tardy slips before going to Art class. We were quiet
while we walked the halls together. But he never left my side,
holding my hand or wrapping his arm around me as I floated
alongside him to each class. His strength kept me moving forward,
and it was also tearing me apart.

“You’re going to do what?!” Sara questioned
fervently when Evan told her what we were planning. “How is that
going to work? How long will you be gone?”

I could only stare at her since I didn’t have
the answers. She verbalized the same questions that ran through my
head.

“I have a plan,” was all Evan would reveal.
“I’ll tell you later, I promise.”

Sara shook her head in amazement at what it
had finally come to. She mimicked my every thought with her actions
and words.

Before we could discuss it further, there was
an announcement requesting my presence in the vice principal’s
office. Sara and Evan became still as a few heads turned toward me
curiously. My stomach wrapped itself around a fiery ball of nerves
when I stood to leave. Evan got up to go with me.

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “I’ll see you in
Journalism.”

My feet felt heavy as they unwillingly
carried my body down the hall to the vice principal’s office. Mr.
Montgomery was standing outside his door, awaiting my arrival. When
I entered the room, my chest flickered with nerves as I glanced
around at the faces seated along the conference table.

“Emily,” Mr. Montgomery stated with a voice
of authority, “please take a seat.”

Still staring from eye to eye, I slid onto
the chair at the end of the table. Why were they here? But I knew,
clenching my jaw to fight the lump in my throat. I collected myself
before their betrayal could completely break me. My back stiffened,
preparing for what would come next.

“We’re all here because we’re concerned about
you,” Mr. Montgomery’s deep voice boomed across the table, so stiff
and diplomatic, without a hint of compassion. “We want you to
explain how you get your injuries. Is someone hurting you?”

“No,” I shook my head adamantly, my defenses
kicking in.

“Emma,” Coach Straw said, her approach warmer
than his, but it still rang with an accusatory undertone. “We know
you’re not accident prone like you’d like us to believe. We just
want to know what’s going on.”

“Nothing,” I snapped back, overly
guarded.

“We’re not here to make things harder for
you,” Ms. Mier explained in her melodic voice, empathy pouring from
her. “We’re here because we truly care about you and want to help
you.”

Looking into her gentle brown eyes caused the
lump to rise in my throat again. How could she have done this to
me?! I swallowed hard.

“I swear, there’s nothing to protect me
from,” I protested. My cracking voice betrayed me.

“Is Evan Mathews hurting you?” Mr. Montgomery
interrogated. I widened my eyes, appalled at his accusation. Ms.
Mier shot him the same look.

“Evan would never hurt me,” I growled,
infuriated by the allegation. My bite made them all sit back in
their chairs.

“I know that,” Ms. Mier soothed. “But someone
is. Please tell us.”

“I can’t.” I choked on the knot in my throat.
I ground my teeth together, trying to fight against the tears
collecting in my eyes with exaggerated blinks.

“Emma, I know this is hard,” Ms. Farkis, the
school psychologist interjected, “but we promise that no one will
hurt you because you told us. We’ll make sure of it.”

“You don’t know that,” I whispered. They
stared at me in silence, waiting. I clenched my fists against the
table, needing to escape. “I can’t do this.”

I stood up and rushed out the door. I heard
the screech of chairs when a few stood to follow me.

“Let her go,” Ms. Farkis advised.

I ran down the hall in a blur of tears. I
wiped my face and tried to breathe evenly when I approached the
Journalism room. I didn’t care whose attention I got first, one of
them had to notice. Sara was staring out the small window of the
door, so it was an easy choice. She excused herself to the bathroom
and met me in the hall.

“We have to leave,” I blurted, rushing toward
our lockers.

“What happened?”

“They’re trying to figure out what’s going
on, but I wouldn’t tell them. Sara, I have to get out of here.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Let’s go back to my house so that I can
pack; then I don’t care where we go.”

“Do you want me to get Evan?”

“Not yet. Not until we can figure out where
to meet him. They actually had the nerve to ask if he was hurting
me.”

“What?! Are they really that stupid?” she
exclaimed incredulously.

We grabbed our bags. I didn’t bother to put
any books in it, not knowing if I would ever need them again. We
flew down the side stairs, avoiding the main doors. Sara ran to get
her car while I waited for her against the side of the building. My
pulse raced, and my whole body quivered, unable to stand still
while I kept watch for her car.

I ran to the car when she pulled around and
sunk onto the seat, trying to find comfort now that we were driving
away - but I couldn’t. This all felt wrong, and it was happening
way too fast. My brain couldn’t make sense of it, and I was
overwhelmed with fear. Was I doing the right thing, or was I
overreacting?

Sara remained silent during the drive to my
house. I was so lost in my questions and doubting thoughts, that I
didn’t realize when we had turned onto my street. Sara’s pocket
buzzed and she looked at her phone.

“Hi,” she answered, glancing at me. “Yeah,
we’re going to her house to get her things.”

She listened for a minute and pressed her
lips together.

“Evan, I’m still not sure that’s the best
idea.” She listened again. “Okay, we’ll meet you there in an
hour.”

“What did he say?” I asked when she hung
up.

“We’re going to meet him at his house in an
hour. Em, I’m not sure that you taking off to who knows where is
the best answer. I still think there’s a way out of this without
you having to leave.”

“I know,” I agreed lowly. “But let’s at least
hear him out.”

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Sara
asked, glancing at the empty house.

“No, I won’t be long.”

“Emily?” George’s voice hollered after I
heard the click of the back door.