“Take care of him, please. Please. It’s the only thing I had from my real family. It doesn’t sound like much. Just a scrap of paper. But it was everything to me.”
“And it’s lost?”
“Shane burnt it up. This morning.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, and the air around me felt fifteen degrees colder. “He burned it?
“Yeah,” Evan said dully. “He sure fucking did.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s an evil, bitter little shit,” Evan said, his voice rising. “I let my guard down for one fucking second…” He shook his head. “But it’s gone and done and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“I’m so sorry, Evan,” I said quietly.
He nodded and moved back to the edge of the pool, resting his forearms on the cement. “She wrote ‘please’ twice. She did. My mother…she cared about me. To write two pleases? It has to mean she cared, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does,” I said, blinking hard.
“Two pleases,” he said.
“It means something. It really does.”
He nodded and mustered a smile, pulled himself back together with a few breaths. His pain was miles deep. I could feel it, and instead of making me uncomfortable or embarrassed, I wanted to drop kick it far away. At that moment, I’d have done anything to make it go away. But I couldn’t. I had no words and no time machine to go back and stop his awful brother.
I could only change the subject.
“So what’s with the breath holding?”
He smiled gratefully. “It’s just something I’ve always needed to do. It’s like training.”
“Olympic breath-holding? Is that a thing?”
His smile widened. “I’m not trying for a world record. I just like to do it. I need to do it.”
“You were under for four minutes last night. What’s your goal?”
“Four minutes is pretty good. Pete Colat held his breath for nineteen minutes. David Blaine held it seventeen on live television. If they can do it that long, I figure I can probably reach seven or eight minutes. Maybe more.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s part of my craziness.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.”
He smiled a little. “That’s a first.”
I smiled back and another silence fell. This one felt like it was going to stick around and get awkward. It was telling me to quit while I was ahead.
“I’d better get back,” I said, and gathered my bag and phone. “You sure you don’t want me to time you before I go?”
“Nah,” Evan said, not quite looking at me. He cleared his throat. “But maybe…tomorrow night?”
A fluttery feeling rippled through my stomach, almost making me drop my phone. He wants to see me again. “Sure,” I said, shrugging, all casual-like. “I can do that.”
A full smile broke out over Evan’s face and it was the most beautiful damn thing I’d seen in a long time. It was genuine. Unguarded. The flutter in my stomach spread to my chest.
“Cool,” he said. “I’ll see you then?”
“Yeah,” I said, rising. The strap of my bag hooked on the chair arm as I was trying to shoulder it. It yanked off my arm and smacked on the cement. Fuck. “Cool. See you.” I snatched up my bag and walked out of the pool area without looking back.
And I felt it.
Evan’s eyes following me
A warm chill skimmed over my skin. Shivers of heat danced up my bare arms and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
What in the ever-loving hell…?
I don’t know what prompted me to turn around. Maybe wanting more of that feeling. Maybe because I had something I needed to say. Or something he needed to hear. And if I didn’t say it, I’d feel even worse about being a bitch to him the night before.
I took a few steps back toward the pool. “It sucks that Shane burned your note. It was a fucking shitty thing to do.”
“Yeah,” Evan said, craning forward without moving a muscle.
It’s too personal. Don’t do it. You’ll make it worse.
I silenced the thought and swallowed hard.
“But the words your mom wrote… They’re real. You’ll always know she wrote them and she had a reason for putting in those two pleases. Shane can’t erase them. He can’t erase the intention. Your mom wanted you to be taken care of. You’ll always have that.”
Evan didn’t move or say a word. In the dimness, I could hardly see his face. But I knew I’d done the right thing even before I heard him say gruffly, “Thank you.”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.”
“Goodnight, Jo.”
“Goodnight.” I smiled under my hair and turned to go. “Evan.”
The following morning began with rumors. Jared couldn’t do the dirty work firsthand, lest he give away to his girlfriend what he and I had been doing for the week. He outsourced the job to his buddy Matt King.