Barely Breathing (12 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Donovan

BOOK: Barely Breathing
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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.

I couldn’t respond to Evan’s
So what happened?
text. I just wanted to get away from the miserable girl who had overtaken Sara’s body.

The front door was unlocked when I arrived home, but there didn’t seem to be anyone there. My mother’s car was still in the driveway covered with a dusting of snow, and the kitchen light was on, but the house was quiet as I kicked off my boots and shed my jacket.

I froze when I pushed my door open and found Jonathan at my desk. The squeak of the hinges made him spin around with a start.

“Emma, hi,” he greeted with an inflated smile, like he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't.

I was so shocked to find him in my room, I couldn't say anything.

“You scared me,” he recovered with a laugh, and then explained nonchalantly, “Rachel said to use your computer to check my email. Sorry. I obviously freaked you out.”

His words shook me from my gaping expression. “It’s okay,” I assured him slowly, my cheeks warming at my overreaction.

“Are you sure?” he asked, clenching his teeth with a grimace. “You don't look okay.”

“Really, it’s fine,” I repeated, easing the tension in my shoulders.

“So, did you check it?” I finally asked.

“What?”

“Your
email
,” I emphasized with a laugh, recognizing how ridiculous we were both acting.

“Oh, yeah. I did,” he fumbled, folding down the laptop before standing up. “I was about to leave but noticed the pictures. You play soccer too?"

“Yeah. I'm better at it than basketball,” I replied, setting my backpack on the floor at the foot of my bed.

“You were quite amazing last night,” he admired, making me shift uncomfortably. “So if you’re better at soccer, then I would definitely want to see that.”

“Well, it’s paying for me to go to Stanford,” I admitted, embarrassed embers lighting up my cheeks.

“Do you always turn this red?” he asked, examining my face.

“Usually,” I admitted, my eyes drifting toward the floor.

“Sorry," he chuckled. "It's... cute."

My breath faltered for a second.

“Thanks for letting me use your computer.”

“Any time,” I nodded, still unable to meet his gaze without my face flaming up.

He paused before continuing. “I’ve been meaning to say something, but…”

“What?” I asked, suddenly nervous.

“I'm really sorry about the first time we met. Rachel said you were going out and to just come in. I really didn't mean to walk in on you like that. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”

And just like that, it was
even more
uncomfortable. I nodded not sure what to say, wishing he'd never brought it up.

“I just made it awkward, didn’t I?”

Of course, my glowing cheeks gave that away.

“Umm… a little,” I admitted with a half grin.

“Sorry," he grimaced. "That's not what I wanted to do. Wow, I'm usually not so bad at this."

I couldn't help but smile at the falter in his confidence. With that one sentence, he had just become a little more, well, like me.

"What?" he asked, his eyes searching mine. "Did I say something wrong again?"

“No,” I answered, connecting with his dark brown eyes with a slight smile, making the corners of his mouth curve as well.

“Can you give me a hand?” my mother interrupted from downstairs. When Jonathan and I emerged from my bedroom, she cocked her head to one side at the sight of us. “Uh, hi. What are you guys up to?” Her words came out in a hesitated pattern, with a hint of unease.

“I was checking my email,” Jonathan explained casually. “Remember, you said to use Emily’s computer?” I looked over at him, surprised to hear my formal name. But then again, seeing my mother's questioning eyes, it was the right choice.

“Oh,” she recognized. “Thanks for letting him use your computer.” And instantly, all was right with the world.

I shut myself up in my room for the rest of the day; reading, studying, and listening to music. I wasn’t an expert at occupying my time. I actually preferred not to be alone for too long because that’s when the thinking began.

And that’s where I found myself late Saturday night, lying in my bed staring at the white above me. I ran my hand along my neck, and a cold chill ran through my body. An image flashed through my head as fast as the snap of a picture, but the panic and fear wrapped in it forced me to sit up in bed. I shook off the remembrance that had forced its way to the surface―her frigid hands and my silent pleas for help. And then it was gone. I was alone in the house once again.

I searched the kitchen for something to eat, but it was scarce pickings. My mother and I kept missing each other for dinner, so I’d stocked up on microwavable anything to keep me nourished. But my supply was dwindling.

I called to order a pizza, and decided to pick up a movie along the way. As much as I wished I could hibernate for the winter to avoid the bone chilling cold, I sucked it up and drove toward the commercial side of town, far away from the homes that paid for the silence, where the neon was allowed to glow.

I pulled into the gas station that had a movie rental machine. There were a few carloads of Weslyn students lingering inside, trying to decide where to go―whose party to crash. I didn’t make eye contact as I waited behind an older man to pick out a movie.

“Hey, Emma,” one of the girls recognized. I looked over at the soda cooler where she and two other girls were choosing forms of caffeine. I smiled politely, trying to place her. She may have been in my Art class, but I was pretty sure she was a junior.

“Great game last night,” a guy praised.

“Thanks,” I returned lowly, stepping up to take my turn at the movie machine.

“Do you want to go to a party with us?” another girl asked.

“No, that’s okay,” I replied, trying to make a hasty decision with a movie. “I’m staying in tonight.”

“See you around.”

I made my way out of the gas mart and waved with an awkward smile. It was strange being recognized outside of school without Evan or Sara. But at the same time, it felt kinda good. It was like waking up to discover I was my own person and people actually wanted to hang out with me. I grinned as I started my car.

I returned to the house, prepared for my solo night, with a new found sense of confidence. I was somewhat disappointed to see Jonathan’s truck had returned. It was barely nine o’clock.

I pushed open the front door and heard the buzz of the TV in the living room. After abandoning my shoes at the door, I brought the pizza into the room. Jonathan was sitting alone, and appeared surprised to see me.

"You're back early." I set the pizza on the coffee table.

"Rachel's sick," Jonathan explained.

I nodded in understanding.

“I thought you’d be out.”

“Staying in,” I replied. “Hungry?”

“Uh, sure.” Jonathan got up from the couch and crossed over to the kitchen. “What do you want to drink?”

“Diet Coke, please,” I answered, looking around for my mother. I hung up my jacket and Jonathan came back over with drinks, paper plates and napkins. “Is she in bed?”

“Yeah. She drank a little too much cough medicine,” Jonathan shared, sucking in air through his clenched teeth. He handed me the soda bottle. “And then had a couple glasses of wine on top of it. I wouldn't be surprised if she's out ‘til Tuesday.”

"Great,” I said with a shake of my head.

“What movie did you get?” he asked, eyeing the plastic casing.

“You know what? I have no idea,” I admitted, pulling it open. “I was in a rush and just picked a new release. Do you want to watch it with me?”

“Sure,” he responded.

I looked at the title and groaned, “Oh great. It’s a horror flick. Exactly what I don’t need.”

Jonathan laughed. “We’ll keep the lights on while we watch it.”

“Did you think for a second I’d let you turn them off?”

He laughed again, taking the movie and inserting it into the DVD player while I doled out pizza on the paper plates.

There wasn't really a point to the plot, except maybe to sear my brain with lifelong nightmares―but then again, I already had those. I watched the entire movie with my knees pulled into me and a pillow clutched to my chest. I’d shove my face into the pillow whenever the music chimed in warning. Jonathan would talk me through what was happening and then let me know when it was safe to look again.

By the time the credits rolled, I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to sleep again. Jonathan changed the channel to ESPN, allowing talk of the Super Bowl to help disperse the disturbing images.

“What are you doing for the game tomorrow?” Jonathan asked, tucking in the lip of the pizza box and stacking the crust-laden plates on top of it.

“Oh, uh, nothing. I mean, I’m watching it, but I don’t have plans.”

“I’m sure there’s a few Super Bowl parties you could go to.”

“Maybe,” I admitted, not having given it a second thought. “But, I think I’d rather
watch
the game. You know?”

“Yes,” he stressed. “We’re going to a party with some of Rachel’s friends, and I have a feeling the game’s going to be background. I’d actually like to watch it too.” He shrugged and carried the box into the kitchen.

It felt like I hadn’t moved the entire movie. I stretched my legs and stood to go to bed.

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