Reason to Breathe (24 page)

“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.

“Then what’s wrong with you?” Veronica
accused. “He’s totally hot.”

“We’re just not interested in each other that
way,” I defended.

“You know that Haley Spencer pretty much
hates you, right?” Jill added.

“What?” I asked incredulously.

“She’s obsessed with Evan and thinks the only
reason he won’t go out with her is because of you,” she explained.
I laughed.

“Emma, are you serious?” Jaclyn accused. “You
have to admit he’s gorgeous, and smart, and athletic – “

“Basically perfect,” Casey finished.

“No one’s perfect,” I rebutted.

“So, what’s his flaw?” Casey demanded. I
looked at Sara hoping she’d change the subject.

“He can be really annoying,” I offered,
knowing that wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy them.

“I think you should date him,” Jill said
bluntly. “You two would be as perfect together as Sara and Jason.”
I turned red.

“Speaking of Jason,” I finally saw a break,
“Sara, what’s he doing tonight?”

Sara intercepted the girls’ attention and
started talking about Jason’s perfections. As Sara fed the girls’
intrigue into what it’s like to be with Jason Stark, I thought I
heard something off in her enthusiasm. I couldn’t figure it out,
but there was something missing.

I let the buzz of voices continue without my
participation. I settled back into the recliner, but I couldn’t
help thinking, what
was
going on between Evan and me? 

18.
Another Dimension

“We’d better hurry,” Sara said as we
entered the diminishing daylight through the doors of the movie
theatre. “We only have two hours to get you ready.”

“How long could it possibly take me to get
ready?”

“Well, you have to take a shower, and make
sure you shave. Oh, and I bought you more of that lotion.”

“I still have lotion left from the first
bottle. And why are you concerned if I shave?”

“Well, now you have more. I really like it on
you. It’s subtle and pretty.”

“I like it too, thank you. But you didn’t
answer the shaving question.” She was beginning to make me
nervous.

“You’re wearing a skirt,” she revealed
cautiously.

“Seriously?” I couldn’t remember the last
time I wore a skirt. When
was
the last time I wore a skirt?
Then I tried to remember what my legs looked like. Did I have any
bruises or scrapes on my knees from the game? “A skirt?”

“Em, you’re going to look amazing.” Then Sara
quickly added, “But not too amazing. The last thing we need is for
him to want to kiss you.” She paused, looking me before sighing.
“This is going to be harder than I thought.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,”
I assured her.

When we arrived back at her house, the grand
production began. While I showered and shaved, Sara went through
her closet, rifling through what seemed like everything she owned.
She wouldn’t let me see what she’d finally decided on until I was
ready to get dressed.

Sara dried my hair and rolled it in hot
curlers. I was panicked when I saw my head full of the white
cylinders. Then my eyes popped at the sight of the ringlets
dangling from my head after she unrolled them.

“Sara, you cannot let me go out like this,” I
pleaded.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done,” she
promised.

She gathered my hair into a high ponytail,
allowing my bangs to sweep across my forehead. I decided it was
best not to look until she was done, so I closed my eyes as she
teased, pinned and sprayed. I opened them to find a large, smooth
bun on the back of my head. It looked more sophisticated than
anything I could’ve imagined.