Home > Barely Breathing (Breathing #2)(14)

Barely Breathing (Breathing #2)(14)
Author: Rebecca Donovan

“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 f**king 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.”

Then he put his phone back in his pocket and said, “Maybe we can at least make her smile.”

“I’ll try anything.”

Evan leapt down the stairs, sinking into the snow up to his shins.

“What are you doing?” I asked, like he was insane.

“How about we make a snowman?”

I laughed. “You are crazy.”

“True,” he agreed with his infamous smile, “but that’s why you love me.”

“You’re probably right.” I smiled wider and joined him in the snow, sinking up to my knees.

I fell over several times, losing my footing while rolling the large ball around the front yard. Evan kept chuckling at my inability to stay upright. Sara probably would've been rolling in uncontrollable laughter if she’d seen me. I hoped this ridiculous semblance of a snowperson would at least crack a smile.

As Evan was lifting the head to place it on the other two body parts, I slipped for the millionth time and slid down the small incline on my back. I let out a loud yelp and began laughing when I finally slid to a stop. Instead of helping me up, Evan opted to lie down next to me. From above our heads, light spread across the second floor windows, and a curtain pulled back.

Anna spread the curtains wider and opened the window.

We remained still, hoping she wouldn't notice us. She squinted, “Emma? Is that you? And… Evan?”

“Good evening, Mrs. McKinley,” Evan waved from our flattened position on the snow covered lawn.

“What are you…” she stopped herself when she saw the snowman beneath her window. “Come in soon, Emma. It’s late. And try to keep it down please.”

“Sorry,” I cringed guiltily.

She shut the window as Carl asked, “What are they doing…” A moment later, the windows darkened and all was still.

That’s when I realized the snow had stopped. I looked up at the wisps of clouds quickly passing over us, weaving through the stars. Evan lay quietly beside me, our hands clasped between us.

“I’m not sure I can feel my legs,” I shivered as the cold ground seeped into me, but I still didn’t make a motion to get up.

Evan sat up, and just when I thought he was going to pull me up too, he leaned down and found my lips, melting the crystals of snow that had landed on my face. His mouth moved gently along mine, warming my entire body.

“You make me forget how much I hate the cold,” I breathed with my eyes still closed.

“Let’s finish the snowman,” Evan finally said, pulling me to my feet. I looked down at my snow caked jeans and tried to brush them off without success.

While I packed snow between each layer, Evan rifled through his car and pulled a bag of candy out of his backpack.

“Sweet tooth?” I accused when I saw the massive amounts of chocolate, licorice and jelly beans in the white paper bag.

“You could say that,” he confessed with a grin.

We pulled red licorice and jelly beans out of the bag to create a face and waves of hair.

I took off my scarf for the finishing touch after he inserted the excited stick arms that looked like they were reaching for the stars. We stepped back to take in our creation. I couldn’t stop laughing.

Evan admired it proudly. “She has to at least smile.”

“I hope so,” I sighed.

Evan left to drive home as it started to flurry once again. I seriously had lost feeling in the majority of my body and desperately needed to thaw.

I took off most of my snow caked clothes in the foyer, exposing pale legs that were now bright red. Sneaking up the stairs, I placed my crystallized items in the bath tub, readied for bed and snuggled in under the blankets, shivering.

I looked across at Sara’s bed. She looked so peaceful, like nothing in the world could possibly be wrong. I just wanted her back.

My phone beeped next to my head, and I picked it up to read, Don’t worry. We’ll fix her.

10. Distraction

When I awoke, Sara’s bed was tossed and vacant. I found her in the rec room, scowling over a bowl of cereal, watching a syndicated reality television show. I left her to fester, assuming she hadn’t seen the snowman yet.

I walked down the stairs and peeked out the window that overlooked the front lawn. As I was about to walk to the kitchen, what I had seen struck me. I opened the front door and stared at the sad image. Shutting the door with a grunt, I stormed up the stairs.

“What did you do to the snowman?” I demanded from atop the stairs.

“I kicked it in the face,” she answered, continuing to watch the television without a blink.

I went into the bedroom and got dressed, grabbed my things and left without a word. I couldn’t look at the pathetic dilapidated head lolling on the ground as I backed out of the driveway. I clenched my teeth in aggravation and drove away.

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