Catch My Breath

by Wendy L. Wilson

  With her hand still held in mine, my ears pick up on a soft sigh from her mouth and I barely turn my head to see her expression. Her lips curve into a soft smile and she slowly crosses her opposite arm over her body, finding a resting spot on my bicep as she pulls closer to me. Laying her head against my arm, the flowery scent of her perfume assaults my nostrils and quickly makes my head start to pound.

  I draw my attention back to the screen, now tensed by our closeness. Every once in a while, my gaze wanders to her small frame nuzzled against me like my arm is a rope that she is desperately clinging to. The top of her head sits right below my chin and something about the way the soft lights from the movie screen hit her blonde hair puts me at ease. Laying my head back against the stiff theater chair, I close my eyes and sigh, letting each nerve and muscle in my body unwind and relax. My heart pounds and I think about Alyssa, before gritting my teeth. Geez, am I ever going to get her out of my mind, out of my heart?

  The end of the date comes and Evan takes Lauren home while Candy and I take off in my truck. Putting it in park in front of a ritzy, two story home that her parents own, my head pounds and heart thuds, but definitely not in the way it should at the end of a date. All night, I’ve tried to make myself feel something. I’ve searched for a spark, some sort of electricity that zips from her body to mine when I held her hand; anything. She’s attractive and she’s sweet, but that is where it ends and now I’m alone in a dark truck with her.

  Sitting here worried about how I do this, my mind ventures to the day I saw Alyssa for the first time. It was like a power surge inside of me, igniting more love in my heart than I thought a person could hold. It actually felt as if Cupid himself had pierced me with his arrow, linking me to Alyssa and raising my expectations so high that anyone else in the world would be incapable of reaching them.

  A low squeaky sound breaks my focus and I turn to see Candy sliding across the seat. I guess I was hoping she would sneak out while I was lost in thought. No such luck.

  I turn my head as the heat from her arm lands on mine.

  “Listen, Candy …” I start but the sweet somewhat reserved sponge bath chick instantly sticks her tongue down my throat. Whoa!

  I gently place my hand on her arm, which is now eagerly drawn around my neck with her hand swimming through my hair; I break our connection. Running my hand to her shoulder in an effort to brace her from lunging at me again, I nearly want to laugh. Maybe it’s nerves, but I guess she’s been reading a lot more into tonight than I’ve been. The beat of my heart remains steady, my body is free of any sort of reaction and I’m about as uncomfortable as when a doctor asks me to cough.

  “Sorry, it’s just I’ve been wanting you to kiss me all night.”

  Her hand roams from my hair to my neck and I’m not sure me holding her back is getting my point across.

  “Candy, I’m sorry if I have in any way led you on tonight, but I’m kind of in a weird place right now and starting something new may not be a good idea,” I say as she remains quiet. How do you nicely put the whole “it’s not you, it’s me” speech? It’s dark so I cannot see her expression, but I continue, “A lot happened this summer and I’m sort of still picking up the pieces.”

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth my abs tighten as her hand snakes up my shirt. “Your injuries?” she whispers, lightly running her hand over my rib cage

  “Ahh … listen,” I grab her hand out from under my shirt and place it on her lap between us, making every attempt to be a gentleman. “I am trying to go about this respectfully. I think you’re nice, extremely pretty and I really did have fun tonight, but I’m just not … interested.”

  “Why the hell did we even go out then?” She raises her voice as she shoves her body across the seat, swings the passenger door open and steps out.

  Last thing I really want to do it piss her off or hurt her feelings. “Candy, I just need to get past some things before I jump into anything.”

  Her expression softens and I watch as her lips pucker to the side as if she is biting the side of her mouth in heavy concentration. Pressing my lips together and glancing around uncomfortably, a deep breath brings my gaze back to her as she finally breaks the silence.

  “You’re lucky you’re cute. You’re also lucky I saw just what you had to go through while you were in the hospital.” A gentle smile touches her lips. “I really like you, but I understand.”

  She places both her hands on the seat and raises back up on her knees into the truck. Great, now what? Sliding her knee forward, she leans in to plant a small kiss on my cheek. Of all the things tonight, this tiny act is the one thing that got my pulse kicked up. I smile at her as she hops back out of the truck.

  “When you get it all figured out, give me a call.” She swings the door shut.

  On the drive home, I suddenly feel a weight easing off my heart; maybe eventually I can move on.

  The next week goes much the same, without any dates of course, and then my birthday rolls around on the eighth. Surprisingly enough, I receive a text message from Tristan.

  Tristan: Happy Birthday, Judd

  It’s short and to the point, but completely shocks me. In four years, he has never so much as shown his face on mine or Jake’s birthdays, much less acknowledged them. Sometimes he makes me feel as though he is in agreement with what my father said the night he left; that we were a mistake. I don’t reply, not because I don’t appreciate it, but really because I’m not sure what to say. This is when I wish I had Jake’s never-failing, forgiving heart, because I just haven’t been able to set aside my bitterness, and then the wreck on top of that. It happens every time; he pushes my buttons when he is in a pissy mood, but this time it nearly killed us and took a lot away from us in the process. I think we’ve lost enough in this life; the last thing we need is his irresponsibility adding to the tally.

  Two weeks into college, Tiffany’s midnight-hopeful booty calls become a bit much and I start staying at Evan’s apartment more and more. I can’t make myself go there if my heart is somewhere else and I guess the friendship zone isn’t good enough for her.

  Plus with Jake so busy in his senior year and Tristan still laid up in the hospital, living at home is lonely. By mid-month, I settle into Evan’s two bedroom apartment, which is only fifteen minutes from campus. Between physical therapy, work and college, I have little time to myself, but Evan never gives up. He tries to rope me into a few more dates with girls that he has seen around campus, including that Bethany girl, who is relentless, but I remain constant in saying no.

  Tonight is no exception.

  Evan: Get your ass to the apartment, shower, shave, spruce up or whatever the hell you do to get ready then we are going to a party. Bethany invited us to some Frat bullshit on campus. Yes, I’m not too keen on Frat parties, but I heard a lot of people buzzing around campus about this one, so we are going! Time to move on and hot chicks that are incredibly drunk with one thing on their mind, is just what you need!

  Jumping in my truck from the downtown worksite that I help oversee, I throw my hardhat into my backseat and chuckle at Evan’s persistence.

  Me: On my way.

  I hit send and peel out of the gravel lot to get home.

  As soon as I stroll into the apartment, Evan is bouncing off the walls like he is a five year old on Halloween night.

  "Come on, get your ass in gear. Get ready!" he hollers, waltzing into my room and pouncing down on my bed.

  "What is your rush? Are we putting on this party or something?" I swing my eyes over to the clock on my nightstand, while throwing a long sleeve shirt over my head.

  A thought enters my mind and I turn to him in a panic as he lazily slouches on my bed, rifling through the top drawer of my nightstand.

  "You did not set me up with anyone, did you?"

  Evan's snaps his head up to look at me with an offended look, "What? I wouldn't do that!"

  I drop my mouth open. What the hell did he do?

  He pinches a pack
age between his fingers and holds it up. "Dude, these have expiration dates on them, you know!"

  I rip the condom package out of his hand, tossing it back in my dresser drawer and hoping to steer this conversation back to what is going on tonight. "Leave my shit alone! Go rifle through your own drawers. What is going on tonight?”

  Stepping back to the closet, I grab a pair of sneakers and walk over to the bed, noticing that Evan once again has my drawer open.

  "Man, you have a ton of these! You might as well sell them; you're never going to use them. Let's go online and post these.” Placing his hands in the air in front of him as if he is laying out a banner or sign, he says in absolute seriousness, “ Truckload of condoms … never used … ten bucks or best offer."

  I roll my eyes. "Are you done? Besides, those are all the ones you guys left as a gag in Alyssa's cot and my bed this summer. Trust me, even if I started using them today and had a week long marathon of sex, I still wouldn't get through them all."

  I slip on my other shoe and rise up to head for the door.

  "Ok, so you going to tell me what's going on tonight?"

  My phone buzzes in my back pocket, so I slip it out and tighten my grip, staring down at an unknown number that has texted me so many times over the course of the last several weeks.

  "Evan! Really?! Her?" I look up from my phone, annoyed and aggravated.

  Evan slams the drawer shut while sliding a couple packages into his wallet then glances at me with a smirk. I swear he is going to kill me!

  "What? She wanted to meet up with you, so I sort of told her we would be there by 7:00." Evan laughs and exits my bedroom behind me. “It’s time to move forward and if that takes getting you highly drunk and in the sack with her annoying ass, then so be it.”

  "Anyone but her!” I say dropping my head in exasperation. “She’s more annoying than you and borderline stalkerish. I'd rather meet up with Candy than her. Her aggressiveness is kind of scary; I keep waiting for her to tackle me on campus."

  Striding over to the kitchen island, I grab my wallet and keys, cramming them both in my pocket.

  "So would that be so bad? You always loved getting tackled on the field...same difference just with more bouncy, perky body parts that brings the game to a whole new level of fun when they crash into you," he jokes, cupping his hands in front of his chest.

  "Maybe fun for you, but this girl will not leave me alone. Do you know she sent me eleven text messages by 11:00am yesterday? Eleven, and she doesn't even know me. The extent of our conversations leaving English class is …” I do my best valley-girl accent, batting my head side-to-side, “Did you understand what the professor was talking about or OMG, I need a manicure." I squeal my voice trying to mock her bubbly tone. "Oh and the pictures." I flip my phone around and show him the one she sent me recently.

  Evan grabs my phone and squints his eyes, bursting with laughter. "Wow! And you’re not into her? At least she's hot!" He laughs and hands me back the phone. “Come on! Give it a shot! You might just have fun tonight and wake up a changed man tomorrow.” Unable to keep a straight face, he shakes his head with a huge grin and heads to the door.

  Glancing down at the picture in my text messages, I stare at a selfie of Bethany, displaying what I believe she takes as her more admirable features. She has on a low cut shirt that appears to have less fabric than the black lace bra that sticks out and hoists her chest nearly up to her chin. Come on, leave something to the imagination. With bright red lipstick that makes me think there may be a circus in town, she puckers her lips out prepared to kiss the camera. Under it she wrote "XOXO."

  "So annoying," I mumble. This is going to be a long night.

  Three shots, a couple of hours and two very strong concoctions of alcohol later, I find myself sunk into the plush cushions of a sofa with a pair of plump lips attached to mine. A body sits across my lap with a vice grip around my hips. Numb and feeling as if I’m backed into a corner, I push my body into the back of the sofa, watching as the room spins so fast that I reach out for something to grab onto. My hands make contact with something soft and smooth that is definitely not the couch.

  Sealing my eyes closed as a soft pillow wraps around my head, a voice calls out my name and forces the weight on my eyelids to retract and spring open.

  “… to my apartment.” Bethany’s syrupy tone echoes through my head and every nerve in my body vibrates with unease.

  My lap suddenly is freed of her weight as a blurred image rises in front of me. I’m jostled to the side as the cushion sinks down and Evan leans into my view.

  “Hey buddy. You’re trashed,” his voice is solemn.

  I try hard to focus on only one of the forms that I see as a hand slaps down onto my knee.

  “Let’s go,” Evan laughs.

  Go where? My mouth opens, but my tongue trips over itself, unable to work properly. How the hell much did I drink? Why did I drink so much?

  “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you somewhere so you can sleep this off,” Evan says into my ear as an arm wraps around my back, under my arm then lifts me onto my motionless feet.

  Laughter erupts from my chest and I put one rubbery leg in front of the other. “Whoa,” I mumble, “I shouldn’t drink, Evan.”

  Taking a deep breath, coolness surrounds me and a slight breeze sweeps across my face, forcing my head to snap backwards in an attempt to look around. All I see is blackness, though; pitch black. Did I fall asleep? Peppers of blurred dots come into view as I stare into the darkness and I think of Alyssa and all the nights I spent under the stars with her.

  “No, you shouldn’t. I should have stopped you, but you were having fun and loosening up. You’re definitely going to feel this in the morning, though,” Evan’s voice sounds crystal clear as the numbness in my body lifts just enough to register another pair of arms wrapped around my waist.

  “Hold him for a second so I can get the door.”

  The steadiness I felt before as I was pulled forward leaves my side and I sway back and forth like a teeter-totter. My head slumps forward and my exhausted eyelids give up the fight of staying open.

  “I don’t know if I can hold him.”

  There’s that shrill voice that grates on every last nerve in my body.

  “Holy shit, you whine toooooo … damn … much!” I mumble as Evan snorts out an eruption of laughter.

  “Ohhh … sorry,” I barely hear him grumble following his outburst.

  With my eyes welded shut, my rubbery legs finally give out and I am plummeted against something hard and solid with a loud thud.

  “Whoa, buddy. That might leave a mark.” All humor seems to be drained from Evan’s voice, but then again it can’t be easy lugging your drunken friend back home when you’re stone sober. “Work with me, Judd. Move your legs.”

  I snicker at the train of thought it takes for my mind to carry that message down to my immobile limbs.

  “There ya go,” he strains to say.

  My butt plops down onto a lumpy surface and I drop my head back with a clunk. Two doors slam behind me and a hand lands on my leg.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, a bit creeped that his hand is fondling my leg.

  “Not me, dude.”

  Evan’s laughter fills the truck as I struggle to center my bobbling head on my shoulders, despite the fact that gravity keeps tugging it forward and back. Turning to the left, I widen my eyes to focus on the body next to me. Bethany’s bright red lips come into view and it’s all I can do to not open the door and jump out.

  “Freaking perfect,” I slur, looking at her. Why is she coming to our apartment?

  Dread floods my mind as the truck comes to a stop and the door beside me quickly springs open.

  “Come on, jump out,” Evan says with a smirk in his tone.

  “Evan, no! Take her home,” I whisper, leaning my head out the doorway while my feet work to find solid ground.

  Erupting with amusement, he corrects my assumptions, “I am taking her home. Now,
watch where you’re going.”

  His arm slips around me as my hazy mind tries to compute what he said.

  Did I imagine her in the seat or …

  “Please tell me you live on the first floor,” Evan’s voice calls out directly in my ear.

  “Yep, first apartment on the first floor,” Bethany’s overly cheerful voice chimes in as my wobbly legs carry me inside a building that I’m sure I wouldn’t even recognize if my vision was fully functional.

  Where has he brought me? The answer that immediately pops into my head sends tingles of sobriety through my body, urging my thoughts to clear and my wits to get back on track.

  “This is me.”

  Another door opens in front of me and I stiffen my legs like a dog being guided into a vet’s office.

  “Evan, I know what you are doing, but just take me home,” I say quietly, making a point to try and enunciate every syllable and appear unaffected by the amount of alcohol I guzzled down earlier.

  My body falls back on a soft pillowy cushion as Evan releases his grip on me. “He’s all yours. Take care of him now.”

  Using my arm to brace myself up into a sitting position, I squint my eyes from the bright light streaming down from the ceiling and level Evan with a glare. My body still feels numb from the alcohol; my eyelids seem to have been coated with lead and the two legs that made it through a horrific car wreck with very little damage now feel like strings of stretched-out rubber.

  Evan laughs at my attempt at a scowl and sits down beside me, slapping me across the back.

  “My dad’s in town so I’m not headed back to the apartment, but I have it on good authority that you will be well taken care of.” He quickly glances to the far wall where I can make out Bethany‘s voluptuous figure standing up against a tall dresser. “Oh and you can thank me tomorrow,” he whispers, turning his attention back to her as he stands. “Seriously take care of him. He’s still kinda got a thing for his ex.”

  I do my best to roll my eyes then drop my arms out from beneath me so that I can bounce back into the mattress and hopefully pass out.