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Reason to Breathe (Breathing #1) Page 29
Author: Rebecca Donovan

“Sara, that’s not helping,” I snapped, no longer whispering.

“You’re right, sorry,” she said, still grinning.

17. Unexpected Visit

“Do we really have to go to this pep rally?” I moped when we returned to our lockers to get our game jerseys.

“Of course we do,” she exclaimed, amazed by my question. “Em, it will get us so pumped to have the whole school cheer for us before the game.”

“Can I listen to my music, so I don’t have to hear it?” She looked at me with her hands turned up in front of her, unable to process my deterrence to be a part of the excitement.

“Sara, I need to get focused on the game. I’ve been distracted all day with this Evan stuff. I can’t be swooped up in the chaos of listening to everyone screaming.”

“You are so strange,” she determined with a shake of her head. “You cannot get away with listening to music during a pep rally. We have to run in as they announce us, and we sit together at the back of the gym where everyone can see us - so you will have to put up with the chaos.”

“Are you serious?” I almost yelled. “We get announced and have to sit in front of everyone?!”

“Don’t you remember the football pep rally?”

“I didn’t go.”

Sara sighed. “Em, it will be fine. You have the half hour bus ride to get focused, and we aren’t even leaving the school until three-thirty. So after the rally, we’ll find an empty room where I promise not to talk to you. You can listen to music, do homework, or whatever ritual you need to do to get your head ready for the game. Okay?”

I sighed with a heavy nod.

The pep rally was worse than I imagined. The band played, the football cheerleaders cheered, there were a ton of balloons, and lots of screaming. The worst part was when they “announced” the team. Sara neglected to mention that we were announced individually, I thought we would run in together. I was mortified when I was introduced last. It only added to my humiliation when they noted I was the leading scorer in the state, causing the screams to escalate. I really didn’t want to be there.

When it was eventually over, I hid from everyone in the Art room and worked on my Trigonometry homework while listening to the band Evan added to my playlist.

I remained quiet on the bus, drowning out the chants and cheers as we approached the school. I sunk further into my seat and closed my eyes.

I felt a hand on the knee that I had pressed against the seat in front of me. I opened my eyes to find Coach Peña sitting across from me, the bus was almost empty. I sat up and turned off the music.

“Ready?” he asked with a confident smile. “You can do this, you know.”

“I know,” I assured him.

“Let’s go.” He patted my leg and headed down the aisle to exit the bus. I followed behind him, turning the music back on.

More and more people flowed into the stadium as we settled into our pre-game warm-ups. The air was whirling with the voices and energy from the crowd and the players. I didn’t look around; not wanting to see what was at stake. I shut out the cheers, the flashes from the cameras, and the announcements over the speakers. I breathed in the cold November air, settling my thoughts on what was about to take place. When I was oblivious to the distractions, I knew I was ready.

The game was better than I anticipated. It was aggressive, with bodies bumping and fighting for possession. It was fast, as the ball flew from foot to foot covering the length of the field and back again within a minute. It was hard, with each intercepted pass and blocked goal. It was still scoreless at half time.

The second half exploded with the same intensity as the first. Neither team wanted to be the one with the final loss. Midway through the second half, we were able to charge in tight around the goal. There was a lot of bumping and pushing as the ball shuffled amongst the feet. The sweeper attempted to clear the ball up the sidelines with a forceful kick that was blocked by Jill’s braced body. The collision sent the ball arching back toward the middle of the field. Concentrating on the arc, I took a few hard strides forward, pushing my body into the air to make contact with the ball using my head. The side of my head connected with the ball, redirecting it towards the goal in a single motion. At the same time, my shoulder collided with a body pushing up against me. The hands of the goalie landed on my head a second too late. The ball was already moving towards the net where it bounced to the ground.

I fell to the ground with the goalie, knowing my timing was a fraction of a second faster than hers. This was confirmed when the whistle blew, announcing the goal. I heard the eruption from the crowd, something I had never noticed before. It was startling as I looked around to take in the lights and the flashes, right before Sara and Jill pulled me off the ground and embraced me, screaming in my ears.

Each team scored one more time, but we came out with the win. When the final whistle blew, the field was inundated with a rush of people yelling and cheering. I received hugs and pats from a blur of faces. I was too excited to be bothered by the invasion. I was still floating on adrenaline.

Evan pushed his way through to find me, his camera in his hand. Before I could react, he wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me to him.

“Congratulations,” he said in my ear before letting me go. “You always find a way to make the most impossible goals. I think I have a decent picture of it.”

“Thanks,” I said, with a huge smile.

Before I could say anything more, I was attacked by more hands, hugs and shouts of congratulations. I lost sight of Evan in the crowd, but I kept searching for him. The crowd slowly eased up and after shaking hands with the other team, I made it back to the bench to gather my things.

The spectators steadily dissipated, filing through the gates toward the parking lot. Evan was somewhere among them. Sara waited for me in the middle of the field. As we approached the exit, I caught a glimpse of someone lingering on the other side. I kept my head down and continued toward the bus.

“Emily!” the figure yelled when I neared. I looked up and stopped abruptly. Sara hesitated a step ahead of me, following my frozen stare. Her eyes widened.

“I’ll tell Coach you’ll be a minute,” she said quietly and left me alone.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice not as strong as I wanted it to be.

“A friend dropped me off so I could see your game,” my mother replied with a cautious smile. “Congratulations, I’m so proud of you.”

Then a slight breeze allowed her signature sweet perfume to burn my nose. “You’ve been drinking,” I murmured, crushed. She hadn’t changed.

“I was nervous about seeing you, so I had a couple of drinks. No big deal.”

I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t move. My body quivered with nerves.

“I’ve been following you in the papers,” she explained. “I had to see you. You look so great.”

I stared back.

“What happened above your eye?” she asked, nodding toward the small scar above my left eye.

I shrugged, looking at the ground – afraid she’d see the emotion in my eyes that were starting to tear.

“I figured you didn’t want to hear from me,” she said sheepishly while playing with her hands, “especially since you haven’t written back in so long.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked in confusion.

“You haven’t been getting my letters?”

I shook my head.

“I think about you all the time,” she started.

“Don’t,” I interrupted, beginning to feel anger amongst the swirling emotions. “Don’t say it. I can’t hear it again. How much you love me but can’t take care of me the way I deserve. Just… just don’t because you have no idea what I deserve.” She couldn’t look up to meet my watering eyes.

Before she could defend her abandonment once again, a voice hollered, “Rachel, there you are. We’ve gotta go, babe.”

I noticed a guy with a shaved head in a leather jacket and worn jeans approaching us.

“We can’t be late,” he stated impatiently, not giving me a second glance. My mother eyed me apologetically, but I knew I wasn’t a choice - I never had been.

“I have to go,” I said, nodding toward the bus, needing to escape the tension before I was smothered by it.

“Emily, this is Mark,” she tried to introduce. He barely acknowledged me with a quick “Hey” as he grabbed her hand with an impatient tug.

I nodded my head, understanding exactly who he was. He was her choice.

“It was so great to…” she started as he led her in the direction of the running Charger in the parking lot. I turned my back to her and walked away without letting her finish.

The bus was filled with excitement and chatter - no one realized they were waiting on me. I tried to smile as I received praise from my teammates, making my way down the aisle to sit next to Sara.

“Do you want to sit next to the window?” she offered.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice shaky. I moved in as Sara scooted towards the aisle. I collapsed on the seat and rested my head against the cool glass, trying to fight back the tears. My hand shook as I wiped my eyes with the cuff of my sweatshirt. Sara grabbed my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. We sat in silence while I stared out the window, trying to regain control.

“Your mom, huh?” she eventually confirmed. “She looks…”

“Nothing like me,” I muttered, wanting there to be more than her light blue eyes and thin lips to differentiate us. “After four years, why did she have to choose one of the most important nights of my life to show up?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “If it’s easier, we can pretend it never happened. I won’t mention it, and you can forget it. We’ll have a great time for the rest of the night.”

“I’ll try,” I promised, pushing away my mother’s depressing image.

“We’ll take showers at the school and go straight to Lauren’s,” she explained, keeping me distracted. “Let’s only stay for an hour or two before we head back to my house with the girls. We’re going to have an amazing night.” She smiled and squeezed my hand, then added, “But if you ever want to talk about her, after tonight, I’m here.”

I nodded slightly, knowing that was highly unlikely. I washed my mother away in the shower – tucking her back in the dark place where I kept her. And that’s where she stayed… at least for the rest of the night.

After being at Lauren’s for an hour, surrounded by hyped girls who talked even faster than usual, Sara nudged me that we should go. Five other girls joined us, following us to Sara’s in their cars.

We listened to music, ate junk food and eventually the topic of boys came up. I knew it was inevitable, so I chose not to contribute until I was forced into the conversation.

“So, what’s up with you and Evan?” Casey demanded.

“We’re just friends,” I said casually, hoping that would be enough for them to move on.

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