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Reason to Breathe (Breathing #1) Page 15
Author: Rebecca Donovan

“I know he’s been collecting his surveys from people and has a couple more interviews for the article that’s due tomorrow. He’s interviewing me at the beginning of Journalism class. Maybe that’s where he keeps disappearing to.”

“I’m not really worried about where he’s going,” I corrected, knowing she was trying to put me at ease. “The timing of when he leaves is always after he makes some remark or asks a question that I need him to explain. That’s what’s driving me crazy.”

“Like what?” she inquired.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Do you like him?” We pulled the chairs back at our table in the back corner of the caf.

“I’m still trying to figure him out. But I’m getting used to being with him in class and walking down the halls together. I don’t have the urge to push him away like I did before. So maybe he’s wearing me down.”

“Or maybe you like him,” Sara countered with a devious smirk.

Before I could answer, Jason approached our table with a tray of food.

“Hey Sara,” he greeted, hesitating before sitting next to her.

“Hello Jason,” she beamed, shifting in her chair to face him. I suddenly felt like I was witnessing something that wasn’t meant for a third pair of eyes.

“I’m going to get something to eat,” I announced to ears that were deaf to my voice.

On my way back to the table with my lunch, I caught Sara and Jason smiling absurdly at each other. I hoped I didn’t look at Evan that way. I’d feel like an idiot if that’s what everyone saw whenever he was around me - although it looked nauseatingly adorable between Jason and Sara. The ogling was enough to deter me from returning to the table, so I went to the Journalism room instead to get a head start on my article.

Since the class was in the computer lab, no one came into the room, besides Ms. Holt, who grabbed some things from her desk and checked on my progress. She didn’t have a class after Journalism, so I stayed during study as well. I buried myself in my homework to avoid thinking about Sara’s reaction that morning or Evan’s persistent interest. But my mind drifted towards those unavoidable thoughts anyway.

I was overwhelmed by the whirlwind that had forced its way in, turning everything upside down in such a short amount of time. I was losing control, and it was making me panic. I was having a hard time staying focused on what had always come so naturally before. The end was within sight, and I couldn’t jeopardize everything and let it all slip away now.

So, if I was going to make it to college (in one piece), I had to avoid these panic-inducing situations, like the party - or anything else that distracted me for that matter. That included… dating. My heart sank in my chest at this realization. But I knew it was what I had to do – I had too much to lose.

“There you are,” Evan declared as he entered the room. “I was wondering where you’ve been.”

“Hi,” I responded, looking down at the keyboard.

“It’s definitely quieter in here,” he observed, then noticed my avoidance. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t go on a date with you,” I blurted in a rush. “I need to stay focused on school and my responsibilities. I can’t afford distractions. I’m sorry.”

“I’m a distraction?” he asked in bewilderment.

“Well… yes, you are. The fact that I think about you at all is a distraction, and I can’t commit myself to any more extra curriculars.” That came out way worse than it did in my head.

“Are you comparing our date to Art club?” I couldn’t tell if he found it insulting or amusing.

“No.” I sighed in frustration. “Evan, I’m not good at this. I’ve honestly never been on a date in my life, and I’m just not ready. I said it. Is that good enough for you?” My faced turned crimson with the spontaneous confession. I continued to reveal too much to him, and that was a part of the control I needed back. There was too much he couldn’t know, and I couldn’t keep slipping up.

He tried poorly to suppress his signature grin. I grunted in annoyance and threw a paperback book at him from atop my pile.

“I always bring out the best in you, don’t I?” He released a short laugh as he avoided my throw. “Okay, no date. But we can still hang out, right?”

“As long as you promise not to ask me on a date, mention us as if we were an entity, and no comments about sweaters,” I insisted. I realized my demands were ridiculous and didn’t make much sense, but it was what my insubordinate heart would need to survive a friendship with Evan Mathews.

“Okay, I think,” he agreed in confusion, nodding slowly. “But you’re still talking to me, and I can sit next to you in class and even walk with you in the halls, right?”

“Sure,” I replied after hesitating.

“Can we hang out outside of school?” he pushed.

“When would we possibly do something after school?”

“Friday – no date, I promise. But you can come over after school, and we can hang out before the game,” he offered. “We can even do homework if you prefer.”

I examined him with narrowed eyes, trying to decide if he was serious. More importantly I needed to decide if I could handle the offer – a small voice was screaming at me to say no, but I didn’t listen.

“Alright,” I conceded. “But just as friends.”

“I can do that,” he replied with a smirk, “for now.”

“Evan!”

“Just kidding,” he said as he held up his hands in defense. “I can be just friends with you - no problem.”

The bell rang, declaring the end of the day, and the halls started to fill with the voices and footsteps of students anxious to leave.

“Good luck in your game today,” I said, gathering my books together.

“Thanks,” he replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow in English?”

“I’ll be there.”

He smiled as he walked away.

I remained in the seat, absorbing the results of my attempt to put my life back in order. It didn’t go exactly as I planned. I was supposed to cut him out completely, and a part of me was furious that I hadn’t. I knew I was taking a big risk involving someone else in my life. I tried to convince myself that I could be friends with him, not allowing him to get too close, while still remaining focused on school. But I wasn’t as confident as I should have been.

I fell back into my routine for the remainder of the day. My head hurt from running around during soccer practice, but I got through it. Sara was gushing about Jason and her date, so I was convinced that she was over the emotional trauma from earlier that morning.

Actually, the rest of the week fell into a familiar pattern as well. The only difference was that most of my classes, along with my journeys to them, included Evan. He respected my reserved disposition, keeping conversation within the boundaries of school topics. I continued breathing and my heart kept beating, although at times it still acted insane and sped up at the sight of one of his mesmerizing smiles, or when he’d look into my eyes a little too long. But even that I could push in the pocket of acceptance. I had my safe place back, and that helped when I had to cross the threshold of instability at home.

I avoided Carol as much as possible, although her slicing tongue always found an insult to carve into me every time she saw me. I had an away game on Tuesday and worked on the newspaper layout on Wednesday, so I was able to stay away until after dinner. On Wednesday night, I even felt brave enough to sneak into the fridge at two o’clock in the morning to take a filet of cold breaded chicken and a granola bar back to my room to quiet my rebelling stomach. I was back to focusing on surviving the next five hundred and sixty- seven days however I could.

9. Not a Date

The grey misting skies did little to quash my excitement for the night game when I left for school Friday morning. It was also the day I was spending the afternoon with Evan. The thought of being alone with him shot a current of thrilling terror throughout my body. What a strange contradiction of emotions, feeling exhilarated and terrified at the same time.

I double checked the calendar on my way out to make certain my game was written on it. If it wasn’t on the calendar with plenty of notice, then I wasn’t allowed to do it. That included going to the library, which I marked for every Sunday afternoon. I was surprised I didn’t have a tracking device inserted into the heel of my foot – but that would mean they’d have to spend money on me, and that was laughable.

“Good morning,” I almost sung when I entered the car.

“Good morning,” Sara replied, looking at my curiously. She began to say something, then thought better of it, and kept quiet. Instead, she turned up the radio and we drove off to the drum beats, guitar riffs and angst of a singer bellowing about being misunderstood. I let the music soak in with a grin on my face.

“Are you still going to Evan’s after school?” Sara asked, turning down the music.

“As far as I know,” I replied, trying to sound casual, like it wasn’t the only thing I could think about.

“Then I’ll see you at the game tonight.”

“I’ll see you in study, right?”

“I have a note from my parents allowing me to get out early. I’m going to Jill’s house for the afternoon. You could probably get out early too if you wanted. The study period teachers don’t always expect you there since you work on the paper or whatever.”

The thought of breaking the rules and leaving school early without permission made my stomach turn. Or perhaps it was the thought of spending an additional hour with Evan.

Sara eyed my distressed expression. “It was just a suggestion; you don’t have to do it.”

“I’ll think about it,” I muttered. Another surge of thrilling terror flashed through my body with a shiver.

“I expect details,” Sara blurted over her shoulder upon exiting homeroom. She was about to continue to class when she took notice of the dazed look on my face and stopped. “Are you nervous?”

“I’m pretty freaked,” I whispered, oblivious to the buzz of bodies passing us.

“You have nothing to worry about. You made it clear you just want to be friends. But if you’re really that afraid to be alone with him, I could give you an excuse to bail.”

“No, I want to hang out with him. It’s just something I’ve never done before, and I’m not sure what to expect. It’s not like hanging out with you.”

“Why don’t you pretend that it is?” Sara gave me an encouraging smile. “Details,” she repeated as she walked toward the stairs.

Evan was seated in English when I slipped into the desk next to him.

“Hi,” he said, his mouth twitching, trying not to smile.

“Hey,” I returned, without looking over at him.

“Do you want to skip study period and get out of school early?” My heart stopped as a million excuses not to leave ran through my head.

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Rebecca Donovan's Novels
» Reason to Breathe (Breathing #1)
» Barely Breathing (Breathing #2)
» Out of Breath (Breathing #3)