Reason to Breathe (Breathing #1)

14. Hollow

I woke up gasping, drenched in sweat. I slowly rolled on my side, trying to orient myself as I sat on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily. My turtleneck was sticking to my enflamed back, and all I could feel was the burning. I slipped into the bathroom with the sound of the TV in the kitchen, where I’m sure George was drinking coffee and reading the paper.

I slowly peeled off my turtleneck, revealing the swollen red striations of different lengths sprawled across my back. Most of the marks were superficial, with a few scabbed over. The lashes were thin, but the swelling made them appear so much worse.

Pushing away the sorrow, I eased into the shower, wishing I could wash away the pain along with the sweat that still clung to me from my nightmare

I stayed in my room for the remainder of the day. I forced myself to focus on homework assignments I had yet to complete. It allowed the day to slip by, but my lack of concentration made the work twice as long to finish.

I heard Carol and the kids return in the early afternoon. I stayed out of sight until I was startled by the door opening and found Carol standing in its frame.

“They need to know you’re okay, so be happy to see them,” she said coldly. “Come eat.”

After allowing the paralysis to wear off, I walked to the dining room.

“Emma!” Leyla greeted me with a huge hug. I didn’t flinch against the stinging pain when I bent over to put my arms around her.

“Did you have fun at Nanna’s?” I asked. Leyla responded with a jubilant recollection of her time at Janet’s house.

My eyes caught Jack’s and I smiled at him reassuringly. He cautiously examined my smile, determined it was genuine, and smiled back. I could see the light in his eyes again, and I smiled bigger.

“We went to the aquarium today,” Jack announced, adding to Leyla's exclamations about sharks and starfish.

I sat in my seat and focused my attention on their stories while I ate the meal George had prepared. I didn’t look at Carol or George throughout dinner. After everyone left the table, I performed what was expected of me. The entire time, I couldn’t escape the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. When I finally went to bed, I lay awake, thinking about what was going to happen in the morning. I tried to remember if I knew where the bus stop was, fearing Sara wasn’t going to be waiting for me.

~~~~~

Sara wasn’t waiting for me. As happy as I was to see his car, it meant that I’d hurt Sara even more than I could have imagined, and that was crushing.

I opened the car door to Evan’s warm smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” I offered a small smile in return. “Thank you for picking me up. I really appreciate it.” I was filled with his intoxicating clean scent upon entering the car. Not a bad way to start the morning.

“Not a problem,” he returned casually. After a minute of driving, Evan finally said, “I was hoping to see you at the library yesterday. I had a great plan to cheer you up.”

I bit my lip. “I am so sorry. I completely forgot. It wasn’t the best weekend of my life.”

“I understand,” he replied. “You seem a little better today.”

“I’m okay,” I said quietly. Knowing Sara wasn’t able to be in the same car with me meant that nothing about me was okay. My chest hurt with the thought that she might not forgive me.

“How was the game on Friday?” I asked, attempting to sound interested.

“Weslyn lost, but it was close.”

“Did you end up going to the dance?”

“No, I met my brother and some of his friends in New York. We went to a bar to check out this local band.” Then he continued to tell me about his night and that I’d have to look up the band to download a few songs. I tried to be attentive to his story, but I became more distracted the closer we got to school.

I’m not sure how much of what Evan said I heard, because I was snapped back to the confines of the car when he said, “I have to find a way to get you to New York.”

“What?! No - there is no way I’m going to New York.” Then I looked over at him and his lips were pressed into a devious half smile. “Nice. That’s exactly what I need in the morning – a heart attack.”

“I was just seeing if you were paying attention,” he said, still smirking.

After a short silence, he consoled, “I promise it will get better.” I knew he was promising something he knew nothing about, but I forced an appreciative smile anyway.

The halls seemed so long and crowded today – it felt like it took forever to reach my locker. My heart was thumping loudly when I rounded the corner, but it sank when I saw that there wasn’t anyone at the locker next to mine. I gathered my books and slipped into homeroom without looking at anyone. I sat in the first available desk and waited for the daily announcements and attendance so I could begin my excruciatingly long day. I couldn’t bring myself to look around the room to see if Sara was there.

I did see Sara as the day progressed. Her vibrant red hair was easy to spot amongst the other bodies occupying the halls. She was usually walking alongside Jill or Jason. So, I knew she was in school; however she chose to place herself in a space other than where I was. I watched her from a distance, wishing she would look at me and know how sorry I was. But I couldn’t tell her since she wasn’t there to listen.

Evan accompanied me to every class, even the ones he wasn’t in with me. My heart would have been fluttering uncontrollably by his constant presence if it hadn’t already sunk into my stomach. At first, he tried to pre-occupy me with superficial conversation about topics I couldn’t recall even if I tried. Once he realized I wasn’t listening and was just nodding politely, he stopped trying to distract me.

I was too consumed with my own remorse and misery to consider how he must have felt walking alongside a shell of a human being. I wasn’t whole; the guilt was eating away at me – slowly devouring my insides.

When we left Journalism with Sara’s presence still burning beside me, Evan said, “Let’s get out of here.” Was it the end of the day already? “You can’t be here anymore. Let’s get your things and we’ll go to my house and hang out.”

Registering what was happening, I asked, “Don’t you have soccer practice?” I knew coach had given us the day off, planning to work us hard for the next three days before our game on Friday – but I was pretty sure the guys still had practice since their game was on Thursday.

“I told one of the guys to tell coach that I have a doctor’s appointment.”

I couldn’t come up with a reason to reject his invitation. I followed him to my locker and threw books in my bag, not paying attention to whether I needed them or not. Then Evan led me to his locker where he grabbed his things.

I didn’t remember driving to his house. The next moment I was aware of was when we slowed down to pull into his driveway. I looked around, dazed, wondering where my thoughts had taken me in the time it took us to drive here. Did Evan try to talk to me? Did I answer him?

“We’re here,” he announced. The way his voice cut through the air let me know we’d driven in silence, and perhaps I’d fallen asleep.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car. Before I took a step toward the house, I said, “Evan, I’m not sure you really want to hang out with me today.”

He stopped on the steps of the porch. “Of course I do. Come on.”

I wanted to force myself to put up a pleasant pretense so that his efforts to cheer me up wouldn’t be completely lost. I searched within the shadows but couldn’t find a persona that was remotely convincing. I decided to do my best not to be completely devastating.

Evan grabbed two bottles from the refrigerator and continued down the long hall which opened up into a brightly lit space containing a piano and a built-in bookcase. Besides some large planted trees, there wasn’t anything else in the window encased room except for a set of winding wooden stairs that led to a landing overlooking the perimeter of the room.

I followed Evan up the stairs into a door off of the landing. The dark room was much smaller than Sara’s, but still twice the size of mine – and with it’s own bathroom. Overlapping images of athletes and musicians covered the wall behind his bed. A simple black desk with a rolling chair was set in the opposing corner – above it hung a board with pins securing snapshots of friends and creased concert tickets. The queen sized bed filled the center of the room with the headboard set against the wall. A tall bureau displayed a flat-screen television, and a closet ran along the same wall as the entrance. The bed and tower of drawers were stained a deep espresso, adding to the darkness of the space.

Evan set his backpack next to his desk and pushed a couple of buttons on his laptop. Music hummed through the speakers that were suspended in each corner of the room. The soothing acoustics and rhythmic melodies filled the bedroom.

“Sorry, I don’t have anywhere to sit besides the bed,” he said, offering me one of the bottles of soda he had in his hands.

I remained still inside the doorway. My heart found a rhythm from within the cave where it was held captive. Sit on his bed, really? I slowly walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, not ready to commit to putting my legs up.

Evan propped up one of his pillows against the headboard and sat next to me on the deep red comforter. I knew I had to move further onto his bed in order to face him. I pushed my shoes off and shuffled towards the foot of the bed, sitting opposite of him with my legs crossed beneath me.

“I don’t like seeing you upset,” he finally said.

“Sorry,” was all I could find to say, looking down at my hands.

“I wish I could do something to make you feel better. Can you tell me what happened?” I shook my head. Silence followed for a minute as the comforting tunes continued in the background.

“Sara will talk to you again,” Evan said as if it were a fact.

“I don’t know if she will,” I whispered. My chest ached thinking about why she may not. “I said some pretty terrible things.” My eyes brimmed with tears that I tried to blink away.

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.

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