Reason to Breathe (52 page)

“Evan, pull over,” I whispered with an
urgency that he recognized. When the car stopped, I forced myself
out and staggered to the back just before my body rejected the
fluid. I took a few cleansing breaths, willing the spasms in my
stomach to stop while I supported myself on the back corner of his
car. I slipped back into the car and put my face in my hands.

“You’re not going to school,” Evan
determined. I could only groan. I barely noticed where we were
going until the car pulled in his empty driveway.

“Evan, I can’t stay here,” I argued in a
rasp. “I will get in so much trouble for missing school.”

“I’ll have my mom call in to excuse us.”

I gave in and opened the door, setting my
feet on the ground and taking an uneven breath before forcing my
legs to receive my weight. Evan hovered. I knew he wanted to help,
but I shook my head to fend him off. I followed him through the
house, allowing him to take off my shoes after I collapsed on his
bed. My eyes were closed the second I was enveloped by the warmth
of his blankets. His hand gently brushed against my clammy face
right before I drifted into a comatose sleep.

My eyes fluttered open in the dark space. I
glanced around without moving my head. I recognized the comforting
scent and knew where I was. Then I remembered why I was there and I
moaned. Did he really see me throw up?

I peeked next to me and discovered that I was
alone in the room. I listened for the warning growls of my stomach,
but my stomach was calm, and my head was clear. I pressed my dry
tongue to the roof of my mouth, craving water. I pushed myself up
to sit, grimacing at the soreness of my abused back and stomach
muscles. At least the excruciating body aches had subsided.

I stiffly moved to the bathroom to
investigate how horrible I looked. I wasn’t disappointed when I
observed the ghostly reflection staring back at me - I was a
disaster. Was there any way I could slip out and have Sara pick me
up without Evan seeing me?

I let down my damp hair and combed my fingers
through it, and I immediately put it back in the elastic, horrified
by the results. I rinsed my face and mouth, attempting to be
recognized as human again. I took a dab of toothpaste and put in on
my finger, rubbing it on my teeth and tongue to conceal the
aftermath of a day and a half of throwing up.

“Emma?” Evan called from the bedroom.

I peeked out through the bathroom
doorway.

“How are you feeling?” he asked
cautiously.

“Like someone scraped me off the road.” He
smiled at my answer, the worry washing away. “Oh, and I look like
it too.”

“No you don’t,” he assured, meeting me with
open arms when I stepped out of the bathroom. I allowed him to wrap
me in his warm embrace. He kissed the top of my head. “You look
better than you did this morning. I heard that people could look
green, but I’d never seen it before.”

I tried to push away with a huff, but he
tightened his hold, letting out a quick laugh.

“You still look pale, though,” he observed.
“Do you want to lie down?”

I nodded. He released me, and I slipped back
under the blankets.

“I brought you some tea to try to get some
fluids back into you, and it shouldn’t upset your stomach - or at
least that’s what my mother told me.”

“Is she here?”

“No, but I had to tell her you were sick, so
she would call the school for us. She’s called a couple of times to
check on you and to give me way too much advice on how to take care
of you. I tried to explain that you were still sleeping, but that
didn’t stop her.”

Evan sat on the bed next to me, with his back
against the headboard. He eased me over so my head rested on his
lap, then he drew his fingers along my hairline. I closed my eyes,
soothed by the tingling that traced his touch.

“What time is it?” I whispered.

“After two.”

“I can’t believe I slept that long.”

“Me either. I had to check a few times to
make sure you were still breathing. You never moved.”

“I’m still breathing,” I assured him quietly,
with a small smile.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He ran his
hand down the back of my neck. The warm chills continued down my
spine.

I sat up and searched for the tea on the
table next to the bed. I took the smallest sip and let the warmth
settle in my stomach before I felt it was safe to drink more.

“You still have your state ID from your trip
with Sara, right?” Evan asked out of nowhere.

“Yes,” I answered slowly.

“Do you have access to your birth certificate
and social security card?” he inquired further. I drew my eyebrows
together and remained silent.

“I think you should try to get them – just in
case,” he explained.

I knew he was serious, and that’s what made
it so strange to hear. He really was prepared to escape with
me.

“I can tell George I need them to apply to
the camp this summer. You’re really serious about this?” I asked,
studying his face.

“Yes, I am.” I dropped my eyes, struck with
the understanding of what he’d be giving up too. Going into hiding
would mean sacrificing his family and friends, not to mention
dropping out of high school.

“Evan, it’s not going to come to that. I
mean, really – where would we go?”

“Don’t worry,” he consoled with confidence.
“I’ve given it a lot of thought. Besides, it wouldn’t be
permanent.”

I decided not to question him further in fear
of hearing any more of his plan. I refused to admit that it would
ever get so bad that we’d be forced to run away. Evan believed in
this plan because it was the only thing that he thought he could do
to help me. It wasn’t realistic, but I wasn’t going to tell him
that.

I did get the documents from George. Evan was
relieved. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t tell him that I was paralyzed
with fear at the thought of leaving and that I wasn’t convinced I
could do it. He just had to believe I could - at least until I was
forced to decide. 

36.
Dinner

“Where is
it?” she shrieked, startling me as I poured a capful of detergent
into the washer.

Stunned, I watched her rush to the laundry
area and begin throwing clothes around. The clothes started
bouncing against my body. Of course they didn’t hurt, but the
ferocity behind the throws still made me flinch.

“What did you do with it?” she demanded.

“What?” I asked quietly.

“The fucking towel,” she screamed. “The one
you ruined. What the fuck did you do with it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I
lied. I’d thrown away the bloodstained hand towel I used to stop my
fingers from bleeding. But how did she know?

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, you
worthless piece of shit.”

She continued throwing clothes in my
direction. She looked ridiculous in her fit of rage, creating a
windstorm of clothes tossed about the basement. I straightened up,
no longer cowering, and I looked at this pathetic woman for the
first time. My stomach twisted in disgust and anger. I was fed up
with her irrational tirades.

“It’s just a towel,” my voice bellowed over
her screams. She froze, shocked by the strength in my tone.

“What did you say?” she hissed. I stared
back, unwavering, even with her “how dare you” look. As I stood
there, staring her down, I suddenly realized how much taller I was
than her. I smirked at the thought of my shrinking cowardice.

“It’s just a towel,” I repeated calmly, but
with a confidence that kept me extended above her. I turned to shut
the lid of the washer.

“It’s just a towel?” she grunted, shoving the
softener bottle right in my gut when I turned around. The air
rushed from me, bending me in half as I held my stomach. She raised
the bottle again and came down on my shoulder, crumpling me to the
floor. I wanted to run for the stairs, but there was one last blow
to my left arm, and I folded against the washer. “Don’t ever
fucking talk to me like that again.”

“Carol,” George yelled down the stairs, “you
down there? Your mother’s on the phone.”

Carol trod off, grumbling, “Clean this up,”
before she climbed the stairs.

I collapsed to the floor, still breathing
heavily from getting the wind knocked out of me. My fists were
clenched, my nails digging into my palms. I inhaled deeply to calm
the fire. It didn’t disappear completely, but it was enough so that
I could pull myself up and begin picking up her mess.

“Emma,” George knocked on my door. “Evan’s
here.”

My throat closed – he was
in
my house?
What was he thinking?

“Okay,” I squeaked, unable to find my voice.
“I’ll be right there.” Something rolled inside me as I grabbed my
jacket and walked down the hall.

“Hi,” I said with wide eyes. He ignored my
anxiety and smiled back.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Carol
declared with the widest smile. It was torturous to witness.

“You too,” Evan returned politely.

“Well… we should go.” The words rushed from
my mouth in a single breath.

“Ten o’clock, okay?” Carol confirmed in her
sweet tone. I winced at the sound.

“Yeah.” I tried to force myself to smile, but
if felt more like a grimace.

Evan put his hand on my back to escort me
out. I stiffened, knowing they were still watching us. I hoped she
hadn’t noticed that he was touching me.

“What were you thinking?” I exclaimed in a
whisper while we walked down the driveway.

“Em, they knew you were coming over to my
house,” he explained. “I couldn’t bring myself to just pull up and
honk. It doesn’t matter who they are; that’s not who I am.”

It was unsettling to see him in my kitchen –
the place of so much pain. The two images fought in my brain,
making the discomfort harder to relinquish.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door
tonight, okay?” I pleaded.

“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly. “But can I at
least kiss you goodnight?” A smile flashed across his face,
relieving my anxiety.

“We’ll see,” I replied with a teasing
grin.

When we neared his house, a new anxiety
revealed itself. My chest closed in around my lungs.

“Are you ready for this?” Evan asked, pulling
into the driveway.

“Sure,” I exhaled, trying to force a composed
smile. He laughed at my unsuccessful attempt.

Evan took my hand as we walked up the porch
steps. I guess it didn’t matter to him that his parents saw us
touching. This was going to be so strange.

“Emily, welcome,” Vivian greeted when we
entered. She floated over to give me an embrace, I was finally
prepared for, and I awkwardly returned the gesture.

An enticing aroma floated across the kitchen
as we sat at the peninsula. I was still awed by Vivian’s grace as
she glided around the cooking space, stirring, chopping and mixing.
I’d always associated the setting with Evan, but tonight, Evan sat
next to me and observed his mother on the other side, with his hand
affectionately on my back.

“Do you want me to do anything?” he
offered.

“No, we’re just about done,” she announced.
“Your father’s removing the steaks from the grill, and I’m putting
the salad together. Well, you could offer Emily something to
drink.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he fumbled, redirecting
his attention to me. “What would you like to drink?”

“You know what I like,” I responded. A small
grin appeared on his mother’s face with my response.

“I’m happy to see you’re feeling better,” she
offered. “I understand you were rather ill last weekend.”

“Yes, but I’m feeling much better now. Thank
you.”

“I hope the tea helped.”

“It did, thank you,” I replied politely, not
recalling if I finished the cup. Evan tried to conceal his smile,
probably realizing I hadn’t.

“Steaks are ready,” Stuart announced, walking
through the door with a platter of small steaks.

“Perfect timing,” Vivian declared.
“Everything is ready. Evan, dear, would you please help bring the
food to the table?”

“Sure.” Evan found bowls and serving utensils
to pair with the sides and carried them to the dining table. I
hadn’t noticed the set table with decorative china and sparkling
flatware until I turned to follow him. In the center, an intricate
candelabrum let off a dazzling glow. I wasn’t prepared for the
formal setting.

“Shall we?” Vivian addressed me as she walked
toward the table carrying a bottle of wine.

I picked up my glass to follow her. She and
Stuart sat on either end while Evan and I sat facing each other in
the middle. Evan shot me a grin when we sat down. I gave him a
panicked smile, which made him laugh. His mother looked at him,
questioning his outburst. He attempted to conceal it with a
clearing of his throat.

My stomach was twisting with nerves; I wasn’t
sure how I was going to eat. I practically force fed myself every
bite, despite the fact that is was one of the best meals I’d had
since… well, since Evan cooked for me.

“How was your visit to California?” Vivian
inquired the moment I put a piece of steak in my mouth. My face
turned red as she patiently waited for me to swallow so I could
answer.

“I loved it,” I finally responded.

“Are you still looking at Stanford as your
first choice?”

“Yes, I really enjoyed the meetings with the
coach and the advisor,” I explained. “It’s going to come down to my
SAT scores and how I perform this coming soccer season. But so far,
they seem very interested.”

“Have you decided on a major?”

“That did come up, and with my strong science
and math background, the advisor mentioned pre-med.”

Evan’s eyes widened in surprise. Yeah, I
hadn’t mentioned that to anyone before this moment.