Catch My Breath

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Catch My Breath Page 26

by Wendy L. Wilson


  “Listen, Bethany …” I say, taking a seat back on Alyssa’s bed so that I can look at her as I talk and hopefully get through to her that I am not interested in her in any way other than friends. “I’ll be more than happy to join you, but would you mind if I come as a friend? I had a pretty bad breakup this summer and honestly, I haven’t gotten back on my feet from that yet.”

  It isn’t entirely the truth. Even if I were over Alyssa, Bethany is definitely not the type of girl I would get mixed up with. There is something about her that I don’t trust and there is definitely no chemistry between us. With Alyssa, fireworks were ignited way before the Fourth ever hit.

  “Well, if you gave me a shot I just might be able to end that summer with a bang, although I can’t promise you’d be on your feet after that either.” She sticks her tongue out from between her teeth and crinkles her nose. Not.a.chance!

  After staring at her for longer than I should and all my words forming into a pool of nausea, I blink quickly and remind myself: Bethany may be my key to seeing Alyssa now; be civil whether you like it or not.

  With my eyes dead on her, no emotion over what she laid on the table and a small insincere laugh, I elaborate, “Thanks, but I never resolved things with her and I’m not completely sure where we stand. Until I find out, I’m keeping any relationships at a friendship level.” I squint my eyes, curious whether her deer-in-the-headlights expression is usual or if it means she’s not computing a dang thing I said.

  Laughing as if this is joyful banter between us, she relents in a way, “Ok so if I agree to go as friends, you’ll come on Wednesday?”

  I nod, keeping my face free of any hint of excitement or dread.

  “Ok then … friends it is,” she pauses, giving me what she must think is a sexy look with her eyes narrowed. “Until I wear you down at least.” She winks and I’m about ready to leave.

  “Yeah … ok, so I’ll just meet you there. Where is it at?”

  “It’s here.”

  “Here?” I look around at the small apartment that looks like it may hold twenty to thirty bodies max.

  “Or, well … at the community hall out back.” She points over her shoulder.

  Nodding, I grab my phone and wallet off of the floor where they must have landed when she tore my clothes off before shooting Evan a quick text.

  Me: You sure the hell owe me! Now come get my ass!

  Evan: Ahhh … try you owe me and you’re welcome. What’s your rush? Have a little more fun. I’m not due back til Monday.

  Me: Are you kidding me? Fun?

  Evan: Ah oh … so you didn’t enjoy it? Is she all talk? Does she use her teeth? Does she have rough hands, hairy legs, saggy boobs …?

  I glance up at Bethany still standing in the doorway.

  “Is everything alright?”

  I hesitate, not wanting to ask, but also … I look over at Alyssa’s bed, a dull pain thudding inside my heart.

  “Hey, do you mind giving me a lift to my apartment?”

  “Sure.”

  I agree with a nod, grateful, even though I’m not looking forward to the drive. I’m hoping for an uncomfortable silence, anything but her talking, but I doubt I’ll be so lucky. Running my fingers back over the buttons on my phone, I quickly dismiss Evan’s ridiculous line of questions.

  Me: I wouldn’t know! Good try! I got a ride. See ya on Monday …

  Twenty minutes later, I’m shifting around nervously in the passenger side of her car, wishing I had not drunk a drop of alcohol last night. It was bad enough sleeping in her bed all night, and although we agree to a normal friendship, it is exhausting listening to her carry on about her upcoming hair appointment and party décor for Wednesday.

  “It’s the building on the left.” I point at the large brick building that houses my apartment. I really am going to kill Evan when I see him on Monday, not only for abandoning me last night, but also for not at least making sure I had a way home. Last thing I want is for Bethany to know where I live. It’s bad enough that he gave her my number, because now I never get peace from endless text messages and selfies.

  “Hey, thanks for the ride.”

  Pulling hard on the handle, I fling the door open relieved to be back home. My feet hit pavement and I quickly rise up, spinning around to slam the door before anything else can be said between us, but then I pause.

  “About Wednesday … what time is it?” I ask, dipping my head back into the car.

  Bethany’s face illuminates with delight highlighted with an ear-to-ear smile and wide eyes like my question just made her year.

  “It’s at 7:00. Just come by a little before and you can head to the party with me and Alyssa.”

  It’s my turn to glow with excitement, because the prospect of going anywhere with Alyssa has ‘hell yes’ written all over it.

  “Sounds good. See ya then,” I say with a sincere smile and a thudding heart on the verge of leaping out of my chest and scorching a path to find her, now.

  I’m pissed off about seeing her with him, but honestly all I want is a moment to talk to her. That is something that always seemed so simple between us; we could talk. I mean really talk! I’ve never been able to talk to anyone like her; I miss it.

  Saturday and Sunday rush by like leaves in a storm and by Monday afternoon all I can do is stare at my nemesis; the clock. It seems like any significant moment in my life brings me to a standoff with it as I implore the minutes to click by faster than time will allow.

  “He’s just scared to face you or call you. He thinks you blame him.” Pressing my cellphone to my ear, I hop into my truck to head home from class and listen as Jake explains Tristan’s avoidance of my calls and visits. It seems he is always mysteriously gone when I make plans to head that way. “He’s changed a lot and I’m not sure it’s all for the good. That cool, confident persona that he always put off is gone. He just seems …” Jake hesitates, taking a quick breath, “… empty. It’s like when Mom died all over again.”

  Holding tight to my keys as I crank up the engine, I close my eyes and think back to the day he finally cracked. Jake and I had just come home from working at a big dairy farm right outside of town. It was how we pitched in with the bills while Mom was sick and after she died it helped to keep our minds busy. As soon as our feet hit the floor, Tristan started yelling at us, claiming he had never signed up for being a makeshift dad at eighteen years old. It had been nearly a solid month since Mom’s death and a week after his graduation. That day he snapped and stormed out of the house. We didn’t see him for a week and a half. When he came back, he was different. He was the good old Tristan I’ve come to know; quick to drink away his worries and with an endless rotation of girls at his side. That was the summer he introduced me to Evan, the younger brother to his new best bud.

  “Hey, I gotta go. I’m in the parking lot of the hospital and he should be done with therapy anytime,” Jake explains in a regretful tone.

  “Yeah, ok. Just keep me posted on how he’s doing. Despite what he thinks, I do care,” I say, hearing a whistle in my ear indicating that I have an incoming text from someone. Maybe it’s Evan. He hasn’t answered my text messages the last few days. He knows I’m ticked; however, I haven’t had the chance to fill him in on what happened the other morning.

  “I will and I’ll keep trying to talk to him. He’ll come around, Judd.”

  “Thanks.” I whisper and tap my fingertip on the screen to end the call.

  I sit in my truck, thinking about my brother for a while before remembering that I had a text. Clicking on the messages icon, I see Bethany’s name highlighted with a new message. Great!

  Bethany: Hey, I was just packing to go stay at my parent’s house for the night and I noticed your hat on the floor by the door. I think your friend brought it in the other night and left it there. Anyways, I am getting ready to head out the door so let me know if you want me to swing it by.

  Slamming my head back onto the headrest, I push my phone against the fabric
of my jeans and blow out an exasperated breath. Maybe this is a good thing. Lifting the phone back up, I frantically type out an answer and hit send.

  Me: I am in my truck now leaving campus. Give me ten minutes or so and I can be there.

  Bethany: I’m in a hurry, plus I’m going in the opposite direction. Ok if I leave a spare key under the mat? My dad has this big company banquet that I have to go to tonight and I am already running late. :P Your hat is on the coffee table and I’ll get the key when I see you Wednesday. Sound good?

  Just as I am getting ready to throw my truck into reverse and speed over to her house, hopeful that I may bump into Alyssa, her words hit me. Why would she need to leave a key if Alyssa is there?

  Me: Yeah, sure. Will your roommate be there? I don’t want to have another surprise run-in like before.

  I bite the inside of my lip while staring at my phone, willing her to answer back that Alyssa will be there.

  Bethany: Actually, Alyssa is in Fairview until tomorrow morning and I won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. I have already left, but the key is there. Just keep the key until Wednesday … don’t put it back under the mat. Freaks me out to leave it there while we are both out of town. TTYL

  Me: I am already on my way!

  I quickly hit send and throw my truck into gear.

  Pulling up to her apartment in a matter of minutes, my feet barely register a physical surface beneath them as I dart to her door. Glancing around to make sure no one is watching, I scoop the key up from under the mat with a quiet chuckle. For a girl that is wigged out about someone breaking into her apartment, she sure hides her key in the most obvious place. I’m sure the last place a crazed sick lunatic would look for a key is under a mat.

  Gripping the key in my hand, I knock just to make sure no one is inside. The tap-tap-tap vibrates through my wrist and down my arm as my knuckles make contact with the solid wood door; no answer. I slip the key into the lock without a second thought and slowly creep inside as if I am the intruder. What am I doing? As if I am being watched, I straighten up my stance and walk as normally as possible over to the table. My eyes find it quickly, exactly where Bethany said it would be.

  Pivoting to walk back to the door and exit their apartment, my legs stop working as if I’m an old bike with stiff, rusty gears. I flick my eyes over to her bedroom door, glancing only through the corner of my eyes, hoping that this will signal my body not to do what my heart and mind is telling me to do. I look back down to the carpet, still stationed in the same spot by the coffee table and only a few feet from her bedroom door, but I can’t fight the pull.

  I walk slowly, careful as if I may wake someone. The door is open, still sporting a fuzzy purple scarf that makes my stomach turn. It doesn’t take a genius to know what that is code for. To think Alyssa saw that coming into the room and finding me in bed with her roommate. A good idea to let Tristan in on though. Once I’m standing between their beds, I glance to her side and slowly feel splinters of my heart chipping away with the thought of her body laying here. I slide down onto the bed, my legs sinking in the mattress and thick comforter.

  Without thinking, I clutch my fist around her pillow and pull it out from under her blankets. My arms engulf it as I bury my face in the fabric, breathing in the scent of her hair and skin as if she were right here in my arms. Inhaling a deep breath, I think over what Bethany said about her father. She was so frightened waiting on her dad's tests, and here it ended up being what she dreaded the most. The strong hold my arms have on the pillow goes limp and I drop it into my lap, staring at it like it may have some answers for me.

  "I wonder how many times you've cried into this over your dad," I whisper to myself.

  An aching pain pierces my heart as I look so hard at the white pillowcase that I can see hundreds of tiny balls of lint that cling on for dear life. Letting out a soft, somber laugh, I interrupt the silence of the room again, "I wonder if you shed any tears for me?"

  Shaking off any selfish thoughts, an idea immediately crops to mind at the exact time that my phone chimes. A text from Evan.

  Evan: Ok so I assume you're probably pissed so meet me at Joe's Cafe for lunch and I'll let you slap me around for a bit! Go easy on my face and I’ll even buy you lunch.

  I chuckle at his approach to last Friday night after two days of not texting me. He knows if he waits it out the storm will pass; it's a rare instance when I stay mad at someone other than Tristan.

  Me: Sure, I'm right around the corner. Be there in a bit.

  After, gently placing Alyssa's pillow back under her comforter as it was and after another quick glance at the picture on her dresser, I head to meet Evan.

  As soon as I walk through the door of the cafe, I see him slumped down in a booth towards the back of the building. He hangs his head low staring at a basket of French fries with so much ketchup doused over the top of them that you would think a mass murderer was set lose on the poor crinkled pieces of potatoes.

  Continuing to study the frown on his face and the way his eyebrows are drawn down in concentration, I stride across the room and slide in opposite him. With one fist wedged under his chin, he looks up at me briefly then back down to the murder scene of fries as a waitress slides two plates in front of us.

  "Two cheeseburgers with everything. Can I get you anything else," she says with a cheerful smile.

  I nod quickly knowing Evan will probably have some smartass remark that will more than likely make the waitress want to stick around or wipe the grin right off her face, and right now I need to talk to him.

  "No thanks," I say politely then look back at Evan. "Don't ever do that again. You have no idea what happened after you deserted me." I shake my head, widening my eyes over this weekend’s events.

  "I think I can imagine what happened but I'd rather not," he jokes with an unconvincing chuckle.

  "No, that definitely did not happen!"

  "Ahhh..." Evan says with a nod of his head and his eyes intensely focused on the basket of fries between us.

  What, no sarcastic remark? He’s got to be sick. Pausing in my eagerness to tell him about my Saturday morning discovery, I study his drab demeanor and how normally he would be shoving his face like a homeless person, where now he idly slides a French fry back and forth through a river of ketchup.

  "Ok, what’s wrong? You’re in a pissy mood, I can tell," I point out, a bit concerned considering he just had a visit with his dad and brother. Those visits usually always end up disastrous. "Did something happen this weekend?"

  Evan's body bounces up as he huffs out a large breath of air from his nose. Keeping the same fry busy swimming, he glances up to me clearly bothered by something more than letting his family getting to him.

  "Surprisingly enough that went good for a change, but then again my grandpa was there as a mediator."

  "What's up then?" I ask, fully prepared to listen, especially after nearly an entire summer of venting over Alyssa.

  "It's her … she's in my econ class and all she does is give me the cold shoulder. She won't even acknowledge me. It's driving me nuts." Evan shakes his head as if he is trying to push a memory out of his mind. "Technically just seeing her everyday through the week is driving me insane, but her not talking to me is the cherry on top of this shit cake I've created!"

  I snarl my nose at his choice of words as I steal a fry and dunk it in some ketchup. "That's disgusting."

  Evan glares at me, rolling his eyes.

  Whatever there is between him and Piper has been boiling inside of him for years; no way can I lighten the mood by cracking a joke like he usually can, but I can offer advice.

  "Listen, I know you said you couldn’t tell me everything about what happened, but from what you have told me, it sounds like you just need a chance to talk to her."

  Evan looks up at me with a look of complete and utter frustration. "Ahhh...did you not hear me. She will not give me the time of day! I say so much as hello and she bolts! Trust me, I would tell her if I cou
ld at least have that opportunity, but she hates me." He sighs, angrily throwing his fry back into the basket.

  I stare at him, unsure of what to say or how I can help him through this.

  "You know, I don't even want to talk about this. What happened between you and what's her name?” he switches the subject quickly, pushing his foul mood to the side. “It had to be good if you’re not lunging across the table to strangle me right now for leaving you there.”

  Looking at him to be sure he isn’t just shoving this whole issue with Piper down so deep that it will eventually explode, I wait for a moment before diving into the details of my weekend. I know better than anyone how to bottle things up; I’ve been doing it for years.

  “You sure?” I raise my eyebrows in question.

  Evan sinks his teeth into his burger and lets out a muffled, “Yeah …”

  “Ok,” not knowing where to start, “Well, nothing happened between Bethany and me, that’s for sure. I had to play sick after she got nearly all my clothes off, but finally she fell asleep.”

  I take a quick bite of my burger; the savory flavors of beef, melted cheese and tangy sauce slide over my taste buds.

  “Well that sounds boring … and you don’t think I would believe that? After you turning down sponge bath chick, I definitely believe it.”

  With extreme effort I swallow the half-chewed-up bite, unable to contain my eagerness in telling someone about my run-in.

  “No, I knew you would believe that. The next morning was the shocker.” I stare intently at him as if he can guess what is on my mind.

  Irritated, he tosses his hands out on either side of his plate, urging me to get on with it.

  “I woke up face to face with her roommate the next morning …”

  Evan’s eyes immediately light up. “Whoa … Nice,” his mind immediately crashes into the gutter.

  “No! It wasn’t anything like that. Guess who her roommate is?”

  Evan tears off another large bite with his teeth, but answers me anyway, “Canny …”

  I barely make out his attempt at a guess through the half chewed up cow tumbling around in his mouth, but I shake my head. I wasn’t really intending on this becoming a guessing game.

 

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