Catch My Breath

by Wendy L. Wilson

  Evan hangs back, talking to a group of guys that he played baseball with.

  It doesn’t take long for warmth to settle in my chest and the misty effects of the alcohol to begin to cloud my judgment. When you spend all your time working out, playing football and training, it leaves little time for drinking so my tolerance sucks.

  Comfortably lounging in a pile of hay that I hope no horse has pissed in, I lean back and close my eyes as soft hands comb through my hair. Casey, our head cheerleader, gracefully sits on a hay bale behind me straddling her legs on either side of my head while a couple of my teammates along with a few other girls go on and on about their summer plans. I can’t concentrate on a single word, though. My mind and body are centered on the hand that keeps dipping into the back of my shirt.

  All of my thoughts are getting hazy and the more I drink the better her hands feel on my skin. I need to cut myself off and find Evan before I have a replay of the first time I got drunk. I hit several firsts that night in my drunken stupor and have regretted it ever since.

  “Hey guys, I’m gonna take off,” I speak up, careful to pronounce each syllable of each word.

  I pull myself up to stand, stumbling then quickly catching my balance. My legs are heavy as weights as I step through the hay back to the main area of the party where everyone is dancing and listening to the band that is playing at an ear-splintering volume. I sweep the room, everything blurring together, but my eyes quickly fall on Evan, slumped on a speaker in the corner with a bottle of water in his hand and a smirk ticking at the corner of his lips as he watches me walk up.

  “Man, I have never noticed how ignorant people act when they are drunk. Did you see that chick over there?” He tells me pointing out in the crowd to a girl that is swinging her shirt above her head.

  Someone needs to cut her off. I laugh and turn my head back to him.

  Evan jumps off the speaker, pursing his lips as he nods his head. “You’re drunk off your ass, aren’t you?”

  I bust up laughing, but stop abruptly when I see Tiffany in the distance making a beeline for me.

  “Can we get out of here before I’m too hammered to stand?”

  Evan follows my line of sight. “Yeah, leaving isn’t going to stop her, Dude. You know that.”

  I’m already staggering away towards his vehicle, keeping my eyes pinned on her. Luckily, after grabbing his keys from the warden, we both reach the jeep. I jump in, immediately pressing my head into the hard headrest and close my eyes with my mind light and hazy with the weight of sleep setting in.

  “Wake up because there is no way I am carrying your ass inside,” Evan says as his hand shoves at my shoulder.

  “What the ….” barely coherent, I stop talking, shake my head and clutch onto the doorframe for support before pushing his hand off and sliding out. “I’ve got this.”

  His laughter fills the air and I don’t even have to look back to see the smart-ass expression on his face. “Don’t forget to get your butt up and out to the lake as early as you can tomorrow.”

  I raise my hand in a salute, too sleepy to form words.

  Inside, I stagger back to my bedroom, stumble to my bed and throw myself into my hard mattress. With my face buried into the security of my pillow, I slide my hand over my denim jeans, into my pocket and pull out my phone. Not concerned with where it will land, I toss it onto my nightstand with a quick look at the time. 1:11; at least I’ll get a solid six hours of sleep before we hit the road.

  A lead weight pulls at my eyelids as I flip onto my back, encompassed with the serene sensations of sleep as I drift off.

  A loud thud erupts in my dark room, ripping me out of my dreamless slumber and has me on high alert. I snap my head up. “What the hell?”

  Tiffany lays flat on her belly on the floor below my window with my nightstand knocked over beside her.

  “What are you doing?” I ask in an annoyed tone, rising up to stand. So much for a solid few hours of sleep.

  I help her up then reposition my furniture, scooping up my phone and checking the time. Only two hours have passed since I got home.

  Tiffany’s body falls in bed behind me, curling up under the sheets and nuzzling her head to my pillow as if it is the most natural thing in the world. Great!

  “Tiffany, how did you get here? You didn’t drive, did you?”

  She shrugs her shoulders from under the covers and that automatically tells me she probably did. Damn it, she’s going to kill herself one of these days. I scoot in beside her, restlessness and the spiraling remnants of a buzz has me dismissing any thoughts of what we should and shouldn’t be doing right now. Her soft breaths grow steady beside me so I close my eyes as her body nuzzles against me. There is no need for conversation tonight. We can talk in the morning. My eyes seal shut once again and sleep takes over.

  A tickling sensation across my chest and the rustling of sheets wakes me. Glancing down, I notice I lost my shirt somewhere in the middle of the night and Tiffany is slowly trailing wet kisses over my abdomen with her chestnut brown hair cascading around her face and soft suckling noises every time her mouth meets my skin. This is going in the exact direction that neither of us needs it to go. With it being morning and her hand grazing the top of my thigh, not all of my body is in agreement though. Ignoring my body’s desire, I firmly grab her shoulder to stop her from the seductive mission she always seems to be on.

  “Hey, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You know it’s not going to work.”

  She places her elbows on my chest and looks into my eyes with a pouty expression. If it weren’t for my throbbing headache, I might even fall for it; I always have before.

  “Judd, we can do the long distance thing, you know. We could try at least,” she says in an innocent voice that she usually uses to break through my defenses.

  “It’s not going to work this time so you can quit with the act.”

  She huffs out a breath and crooks her eyebrows into a pissed off frown. I really don’t want to hurt her feelings. I never do, but she always seems to leave crying. I hate that. The one thing I’ve always had a hard time handling is seeing a woman cry. It makes something break apart inside of me and I’m willing to do anything to take their pain away. A single tear and I am reminded of all the times Mom would cry. She would cry every single time she came home from the doctor’s office, for months after Dad left and every time she thought no one was watching. Eventually, when she had no more tears to give this Earth, it was our turn to cry with the knowledge that she was never coming back.

  Taking a deep deliberate breath of courage, I gulp down my hesitation of discussing this yet again, and open my mouth, “No we can’t try. You know I don’t feel the same and that wouldn’t be fair to you.” I speak as gently as possible while sitting up against my headboard.

  Rising up to face me with her body softly draped over mine, she looks at me with fluttering eyelashes and an impending storm brewing within her.

  Desperate to nip this in the bud, I grasp her hand in mine and give it a caring heart-felt squeeze.

  “Tiffany, I know you have this void inside you that you keep trying to fill. I understand … I have that same void, you know. We’ve discussed that a million times. Not having a Mom and Dad growing up has just left you empty and desperate for love, but this isn’t the way to fill it. I care about you … I really do. I just don’t feel what I should if we were going to have a relationship.”

  We’ve had numerous conversations about our pasts and although I’ve never shared with her everything about my Mom and Dad, she does know that neither of them are in the picture; a common factor of life that we share.

  Unlike me though, she has bounced around from foster home to foster home since she could remember and every time a foster parent is ready to pass her on to the next, it takes a chunk out of her. Those tattered, broken pieces of her heart have left her with non-existent self-esteem and a deep need for love.

  That is exactly what led us to each other. Whe
n I first met her it was through hearsay in the locker room. I’d overheard a lot of guys saying that she was easy. I’m not the type to take advantage of that, but her name stuck with me. After a football game, I caught her behind the bleachers with one of my teammates that had just been talking shit about her, calling her a slut and making a bet with a couple of guys. It made my stomach turn. My ass would be black and blue had I ever talked about a woman like that; Mom would not have stood for that. That single memory had me slamming my fist into his face for the disrespect he was showing Tiffany. Since then, she has been convinced that she loves me as if I’m some type of Prince Charming ready to carry her off into the sunset. The one mistake we made after that is falling into a pattern of leaning on each other for companionship and comfort, so the lines between friendship and a relationship have become blurred.

  I slip my shirt back on as we continue our conversation, “I know this is a lot of my fault. We should have never crossed the lines.” I put my best effort forward while trying to spare her feelings. “I truly think the world of you, I hope you know that, but when we are together, it should feel different … I mean I should …” I pause and watch as her eyes well up with tears. “I mean, just think …” My heart aches watching her hurt from my words and now I just want to stop talking, push it aside and discuss it some other time. This is what always happens.

  Before I know it she is in my lap with her arms around my shoulders. I place my hands at her waist to hopefully ease the pain I am causing by letting her down.

  “We just can’t …” my words are clipped off as her mouth falls back to mine and now my sense of remorse switches to anger. Why the hell does she keep doing this to herself? It’s like she is not hearing me!

  Annoyance festers inside of me at her persistence. “Tiffany, no, I mean it. Please, don’t make this harder than it already is,” I beg her, nudging her away.

  “But I love you and I know you would love me if you tried.”

  Oh shit, she had to say that. Why does she have to say she loves me?

  “No, I won’t … I don’t,” I snap and immediately regret putting it that way. “But that doesn’t mean I want to lose you. I like hanging out with you, but being together like this has to stop. This isn’t good for either of us. It’s like we are just using each other to fill that void and it just leads you on and it only confuses me. You deserve so much more than you know, Tiffany.”

  She leans back to look at me, hanging onto my neck. I keep a firm grip on her. Wait, I actually have her complete attention. She isn’t arguing with me this time. She isn’t trying to talk over me. She is listening.

  I go on, “You’re gorgeous and you have such a big heart. Some guy is going to be so lucky to have your love.” Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears and my heart tightens at the sight, but I push on, “Please don’t cry. It’s just … don’t you want to have a life with someone that knows exactly what they want; someone that isn’t going away and will be here any second you need them?”

  She studies my face as if I’m telling her the secrets of life before finally speaking. “But I want it to be you,” she whispers and it is nearly my undoing.

  It’s not my love in particular that she desires it’s just love in general. I guess when you’re deprived of it your whole life, you become desperate, almost frantic for it. I’ve always been clear with her that I’m only interested in being friends but then we’ll get caught up in the moment and one thing leads to the next. Afterwards, I feel like an asshole and I’m sick of feeling like an asshole.

  “No you don’t, because before me there was always someone. You deserve to find someone that really loves you and I know you will find it someday, just don’t sell yourself short, ok?”

  Nodding, she slowly slides off my lap to sit beside me. Once her hand reaches to wipe away a few fallen tears, I bounce up and in two steps I’m at my desk, ripping a tissue out of a blue cardboard container. I step back over to her and crouch down offering up the tissue as I look into her eyes. We’ve been here on more than one occasion and I’d really like to know that this conversation did in fact stick. Time for this merry-go-round to stop.

  After blotting her deep dark eyes, she lifts her lips into a small smile that brings me hope. I don’t want to hurt her; that’s never been my intention.

  Just as I’m about to wrap up the subject, a loud thud breaks the comfortable silence of my bedroom and makes us both jump as the door swings open.

  “Hey, did you want to grab something to eat on our …” Jake’s voice trails off as he looks from Tiffany to me and back again. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” He immediately spins on his heels.

  “Jake, it’s not …” No sooner than the words are out of my mouth, the door swings shut and he darts away.

  “Well,” she says in a cheerful tone that is much different than just moments ago. “I better go and let you be on your way.” She stands up and wraps me in a monstrous hug. “I guess this is goodbye? Will you be back before it’s time to leave for college?”

  I pull away enough to look into her eyes.

  “I’ll be working about five hours from here for the next month and half or so then I’ll just have three weeks back home before I leave for California.”

  She doesn’t say a word, but as her soft lips place a gentle kiss against mine, her goodbye is felt like a whisper in my ear. She’s been such a big part of my life in the last few years. There have been times that I thought I wouldn’t survive the night as I grieved over my mother, but her being there, even in silence helped ease the heaviness in my heart.

  “Bye,” I whisper, knowing I’ll keep in touch with her and always be here if she needs me. “Promise me, you’ll be good.” She smiles and nods her head, completely understanding my meaning.

  After walking her out to her car, Jake and I hit the road. We are running about an hour behind so we make the decision to grab a quick bite to eat at home rather than stopping. The ride there is boring to say the least, so I close my eyes for a few extra hours of sleep.

  Scrunching up my face as my eyes peel open, I’m greeted by blinding sunlight and a blur of trees passing by the passenger window.

  “Where are we?” I say, pressing my arms to the roof of the truck and bowing my back to stretch.

  “Almost there. About thirty more minutes.”

  I sit up straight and look around, everything beginning to familiarize. Jake and I have come out here on several occasions since Evan and I first met. Glancing over, I notice Jake shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

  “You want me to take over?” He quickly shrugs and I decide I best discuss other things before we get to the lake. “Hey, what you walked in on this morning was nothing. We were just talking, that’s it.”

  He laughs and gives me a sneaky almost embarrassed grin over his shoulder. “You really don’t need to explain. I’ve seen her over more than once, Judd. Besides, I didn’t think another thing about it. I just didn’t mean to bust in like I did.”

  “Yeah, I just wanted to clarify that it was not what it looked like.” He has seen her leaving my room before, I know that, but the last thing I want him to think is that I am anything like Tristan. Walking in on strange girls in his room is a common thing in our house. He really needs to use some sort of code for when someone is in there keeping him company.

  “It’s ok,” he chuckles, his chest shaking and vibrating with amusement. “I had hoped you would relax, unwind and enjoy the after party. I just figured you took my advice and brought the party home.”

  We both erupt in laughter as I shake my head in complete disagreement with his assumptions.

  GRAVEL CRUNCHES BENEATH OUR tires as we pull into the lot between two cabins. Water stretches out in front of us with a dock and a small convenience shop to the right and a quiet, sandy beach to the left.

  My brother and Mitch both stand to the left near Evan’s grandfather’s cabin, both with their arms folded over their chest as Evan points to a mass of shingles that have b
een stacked against the cabin.

  More crunching sounds rise into the air behind us as a red truck pulls into the lot. I guess we are not the only ones running late.

  “Whoo, you boys ready for this?” Tyler hollers, looking much livelier than I feel.

  “I’m ready,” Jake says. “I think Judd’s just ready to pack up and get to California.” He settles up beside me, nudging me with his elbow.

  He throws his door open and jumps out, Nick and Tyler soon following his lead.

  “Are you in a hurry to leave us all behind?” Matt laughs.

  Matt slaps me on the shoulder and I narrow my eyes at Jake, with a sliver of a smile. “I am not in a hurry to leave.”

  Jake laughs, seeing right through me. He knows very well that I am anxious to leave, but what I haven’t found the courage to tell him yet is just how hard leaving him will be. He’s my baby brother, one of my best friends, the one person that I stood side-by-side with the day I found out Mom died and the same person that cried with me each day as we waited for Dad to come back.

  “I’m just in a hurry to play football again.” Shame tugs at me as I try to explain myself while waging a silent conversation with Jake. I need to talk with him soon.

  Nick and Tyler join us and we all make a ceremony out of slapping hands and shoving each other in a cave-man like greeting.

  “I hear ya,” Tyler looks around, glancing over to Tristan and Mitch, both which also played football back in high school. “We practically have a team gathered now.”

  “With the exception of Evan’s baseball-loving ass,” Nick adds, igniting laughter from us all as the others walk up.

  “Hey, no hating on baseball; it’s un-American dammit. Show some respect.” Evan smirks as we all laugh.

  “Man, this is impressive,” Tyler glances around at the view. “So all this is your grandfather’s land?” He points around at an endless row of rustic cottage-like cabins that run along the water’s edge.

  “Only the ones on the west side of the lake. Oh and that one he sold to an old friend years ago. Their son owns it now and used to come out with his family but it hasn’t been occupied in a couple years.” Evan’s face etches into a frown for a second as he points to the parallel cabin then out to the opposite side of the lake. “All those belong to some big shot that sunk a shit load of money into amping his side up. It was like a war between my grandfather and him at one point, fighting to appeal to the summer vacationers,” he chuckles as we all glance over across the steel blue waters to the bigger, pricier cabins.