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Out of Breath (Exposed Series Book 2)

Page 3

by Kelly, Hazel

“My bad.”

  “I bought you a copy of it and everything!”

  “I just haven’t had the time.”

  “You get emails that are longer than that book!”

  “Okay. I suck. Can we get back to the point for a second?”

  “The point is no one wants to read some single, past-their-prime Cancer statistics’ opinions on sex and relationships.”

  “Not true. In fact, that’s exactly what’s popular right now.”

  “You’re so full of it.”

  “I am.” She smoothed her hair back towards her low bun. “But the only reason it’s not is because you haven’t written the damn thing.”

  “Who’s going to read it, Tina?”

  “Me.”

  I laughed. “Well in that case, I’ll get right on it.”

  “You should.” Tina stood and put her hand on my shoulder. “Even if I was the only one that read it, it would be nice for you to leave me something.”

  “As if you don’t already have everything you want.”

  “True. But I don’t have anything of yours. To remember you by.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Well none of your furniture or jewelry that’s for sure.”

  I shook my head. “You can be such a bitch.”

  “So write it. For me. And Kate. I bet she would read it.”

  “She might,” I said. “If it existed.”

  “I’m glad I could help. I was starting to think I was just an accessory for you to bounce ideas off of.”

  “Not at all.” I smiled. “I also needed to meet you so I could get your spare key for Kate.”

  Tina reached in her purse where it was hanging on the back of her chair and pulled out a key ring that looked more expensive than my car. Then she got my spare key loose and handed it to me.

  “Thanks,” I said, placing on the table.

  “Of course.” Tina slung her bag over her shoulder. “Call you later?”

  “Sounds good.”

  She took two steps and turned back in my direction. “Dawn?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you’re sticking around a while.”

  “I know,” I said. “Me, too.”

  Chapter 5: Kate

  Annie wedged her cigarette butt into the crowded ashtray, and I watched the last trickle of smoke rise towards the umbrella that stuck out from her patio table.

  “So how long do you think you’re going to stay with your Aunt?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. As long as she’ll let me. I mean, she’s way chiller than my parents.” I lowered my cigarette and ashed on the ground.

  “And it’s cool with your Mom and Dad?”

  “Honestly, they were gonna send me to live somewhere else anyway.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Like to a boarding school or something for wild kids like me.” I forced a smile.

  “Fuck me. Do they think you’re that wild?”

  I shrugged. “They never drank or smoked at our age.”

  “So what? I swear they’ve gotten worse.”

  “I think my getting caught when Trey’s got busted did it. They’ve been, like, super paranoid since then.”

  “It’s not like you got alcohol poisoning. Danielle said you guys weren’t even that shitty.”

  “We were kinda shitty.”

  “Shittier than usual?”

  “No.” I said, gearing up to finally broach the subject. “But I think last Saturday- the night I went to my Aunt’s- was the last straw.”

  “Why?”

  “Cause my Mom busted me coming home stoned.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Stoned? Who were you getting stoned with?”

  “Kevin.”

  Her eyes stayed wide. “You’ve been smoking with Kevin?”

  “Yup.”

  “Like a lot?”

  “No,” I said. “Just a few times.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I cocked my head at her. “I was actually going to ask you the same question?”

  “Sorry.”

  “I felt like such an idiot for not knowing. I’m supposed to be your best friend.”

  “You are.”

  “So why wouldn’t you tell me something like that?”

  “I didn’t think you were cool with it.”

  “Even if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have cared if you did.” I looked over my shoulder at the back of her house to make sure none of the windows were cracked. “I’m just disappointed you didn’t tell me, you know?”

  “My bad. But you liked it anyway?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I did. I do. It’s different than drinking.”

  “Better in some ways.”

  I nodded. “Since when have you been doing it?”

  “Since I started seeing Rob. That’s the only reason Kevin knew before you. I swear.”

  “It’s no big deal,” I lied.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it.”

  “What about Danielle?”

  “What about her?”

  “Does she know? Have you smoked with her?”

  She didn’t have to say anything. Her guilt had nowhere to hide on her tiny freckled face.

  “What the fuck. How come she knew?”

  “She has older siblings. She just sort of guessed.”

  I shook my head.

  “I wasn’t going to tell her either. She just called me out.”

  “So you guys have gotten high together then? Without me?”

  “Once or twice. That’s all. Really.”

  I felt a familiar, nagging cramp in my lower guts. It was stress, and it made me want to stuff my face.

  I took a deep breath.

  What if feeling left out was one of my triggers? It would certainly go a long way towards explaining why I’d spent so much time with my finger down my throat the last few years. I mean, my entire high school experience was just a mess of humiliation and paranoia. I felt left out, singled out, and like I was missing out all the time.

  “You okay?” Annie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re not upset?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Cause if you’re really depressed, we could smoke a bowl.”

  I turned my head towards her. “You mean you have some now?”

  She smiled. “Just a little… But it’s stinky.”

  “Your call.”

  “I think I’ll get it. I feel bad I didn’t tell you. I’d like to make it up to you.”

  “Well, if it would make you feel better…” I said, laughing.

  Her small face lit up. “Say no more.”

  “Wait-” I sat up in my chair. “Isn’t your Dad home?”

  “Yeah, but he’s working on his car in the garage,” she said. “And even if he caught us, he wouldn’t say shit.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Cause he still smokes sometimes, too. When his best friend from college visits.”

  “He does?”

  “It’s not all the time or anything. Promise me you won’t say anything to anybody.”

  “I would never.”

  “Anyway, trust me,” she said. “It’s not like I’m going to do anything that would get me kicked out of my own house.”

  “Good one. Hilarious.”

  She scooted her chair away from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

  I couldn’t wait to get high, and I wasn’t even stoner. Not yet anyway. But I did like it. And if I liked it even half as much as I liked cigarettes, I’d be smoking every day in no time. I mean, it was so easy to say “yes” and lift a burning joint to my mouth. It didn’t seem like a big deal.

  But how many easy yes’s did it take to become a full blown pot head? Were you only one if you bought it yourself? If you never turned it down? If you got high every day? By yourself? Like Kevin did? And maybe Annie, too? Maybe I was the weird one for not having my own stash? I didn’t want people to think I was a
mooch.

  I didn’t know what I was. I just knew I liked how it made me feel. And since my latest resolution was to take things one day at a time, I didn’t see the harm.

  When Annie came out the backdoor and crossed the yard to the table, she kept one hand in the pocket of her fleece.

  I pulled a water bottle out of my purse to get ready. I had yet to smoke without at least one coughing fit. Apparently, no amount of cig smoking could prepare me for inhaling weed.

  As soon as she sat down, she pulled a clear glass bowl out of her pocket and placed it on the table. It had neon colored swirls up and down it and a little mound of green weed packed at one end.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “Rob gave it to me.”

  “Right. Of course.”

  “You can have greens,” she said, pulling a lighter from her pocket and handing it to me.

  “Greens?”

  “The first hit?”

  “Oh. Okay.” I picked up the bowl and the lighter, but it must have been obvious that I didn’t know what I was doing.

  “You have to cover that small hole with your finger first,” she said, pointing it out. “And then uncover it to let more air in so you don’t burn your throat.”

  “Maybe it would be better if you went first,” I said, extending my hands towards her. “So I can see what you mean.”

  She took the pipe and the lighter without argument.

  I watched how she lit the edge of the weed and inhaled until the pipe was filled with white smoke. As soon as she moved her thumb from the hole, the smoke disappeared into her lungs.

  She was still holding in her hit when she passed me the pipe and the lighter. When she started to cough, she tried to keep her mouth shut, but it was no use. The smoke came out in big gusts and surrounded us where we sat.

  I followed her lead down to the coughing fit, and after we’d each taken a few quiet hits, I felt unusually light and a little bit funny.

  “So you must like Kevin?” she asked, reaching for my water.

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s cool.”

  “What about Ian?”

  “What about him?” I shrugged. “I guess I still like him, too.”

  She made a face like she had a bad taste in his mouth.

  “Come on. He’s not that bad,” I said, wondering who I was trying to convince.

  “I like Kevin way better.”

  “Wow. And you don’t like anyone.”

  “That’s not true. I just really hate Ian.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I didn’t believe her, but I didn’t push it. After all, I wanted to hear more about Kevin.

  “I guess Kevin has some ex-girlfriend in college,” I said.

  “Yeah. From what I understand.”

  “You know anything about her?”

  “Does it matter? They aren’t together anymore.”

  “Will you just tell me what you know?”

  Annie sighed. “I know she’s pretty. Blond. Leggy.”

  “How long were they together?”

  “Over a year, I think.”

  “Over a year?!”

  “Something like that. Anyway, she’s definitely not over him. You can tell by how she acts.”

  “So he must’ve broken it off?”

  “I guess.”

  “Do you know why?’

  “No, but it’s not because she’s ugly or stupid.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek.

  “I’d say you have a chance, though.”

  “Really?”

  “Why not? You’re just as cool as she is.”

  “I was hoping for prettier, sexier, and much better company.”

  “I say go for it anyway,” she said. “If they were together that long, he probably knows his way around.”

  “His way around?”

  She cocked her head at me. “Are you just baked or are you really so dumb I have to spell it out for you?”

  “Ohhhhh… His way arouunnd.”

  She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand.

  “I guess he might.”

  “I’d bet on it for sure,” she said.

  I didn’t know if Annie was truly the authority on sex that she pretended to be, but I’d never wanted her to be more right in my life.

  “Do you know anything else about Kevin? Like what he likes?” I asked, twirling a strand of hair my finger.

  “You’re the one that’s been spending so much time with him.”

  “Yeah, but-”

  “I don’t know. He probably likes the same shit all guys like?”

  “Which is…?”

  “Pretty girls that smile a lot and think they’re hilarious.”

  “Right.”

  “And sluts, of course.”

  I sighed.

  “I don’t think Kevin’s into sluts, though. He’s pretty shy from what I’ve seen.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Maybe you can draw him out of his shell.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Or better yet, his clothes.”

  Chapter 6: Dawn

  I felt feverish as soon as I pulled in the driveway. My doctor told me it was one of the symptoms of my illness, but I knew better on this occasion. My throat was closing up, too.

  I turned off the ignition and stared at my sister’s house. It was a two story brick colonial. Just like she’d always wanted. And it hadn’t changed from the last time I’d seen it. Which meant, if my years in counseling had taught me anything, that her marriage was probably in good shape.

  Too often, a dilapidated house was symptomatic of a miserable husband and a disconnected couple. But from the freshly painted door to the immaculate lawn, it looked like the flowerbed wasn’t the only bed getting enough attention. Then again, I suppose she could’ve had a landscaper.

  Regardless, the place looked great. And it was so Carol. There wasn’t a weed in sight.

  No wonder she didn’t know how to talk to Kate about her problems. Carol didn’t understand what it was like to feel out of control. Not as a result of her brain function and certainly not as a result of chemical substances. Kate’s problems were foreign territory to her.

  And she wasn’t creative or confident enough to think for herself. So if there wasn’t a book, an episode of Dr.Phil, or a Mommy vlog that could help her, she was hopeless.

  Not like me, the fuck-wad-screw-up sister. After all, I’d spent my whole life making questionable choices and dealing with the consequences. That’s what made me a good counselor. It’s also why I preferred the company of troubled individuals to the company of people like my sister.

  I never understood people like Carol, people who saw the world as easily navigable and good decision making as black and white. And sensible people like her were on the opposite end of the spectrum to teenagers. Especially teenage girls, who experienced the world and their feelings in either high definition color or sepia.

  Which put her at a disadvantage when it came to connecting with Kate. Because, except for the years she struggled with fertility, Carol had never been an outsider. She didn't know what it felt like to be a minority of any kind.

  Her life had been mostly sugarcoated. Kind of like my parent's.

  They were high school sweethearts and best friends. They lived a loving- though not particularly exciting- life. My Mother loved everything about being a mom. Except for the obligatory socializing she had to do with our friends' parents. She was shy. Private. Nowadays, she’d probably be diagnosed with some sort of social anxiety disorder. But she wasn’t unhappy. She dedicated her whole life to my Dad and vice versa.

  It was their consecutive wakes that were the reason for my last two visits to Carol’s house. Five and five and a half years ago. My Dad didn’t even pretend he wanted to stick around after my Mom died. If it had been up to him, they would’ve had a joint funeral.

  As I made my way up the path to the front door, I felt a wave of guilt that I'd never bothered to
learn the names of flowers. And now it was too late. Then I remembered that I hadn’t driven out there to make myself feel bad. I did it so I could pick up some things for Kate as a favor to her, her Mother, and me.

  Carol had offered to drop Kate’s things off at my apartment, but I declined. I would rather go to her place. That way I could leave on my terms. Plus, I knew she thought my small apartment was sad and lonely without a man in it. Or at least she made the mistake of saying that once. To which I replied that nothing made me feel lonelier or more depressed than the idea of getting fucked by a single penis for the rest of my life and that it was actually quite spacious without her fat ass taking up so much room.

  Which didn’t have as much impact as I’d hoped because she’s not even fat. Because getting fat would mean getting out of control. And I still haven’t been able to erase the memory of her dragging her finger along my mantle and asking me if I’d heard of Swiffer. Ugh.

  I knew we pushed each other away like this on purpose. We hadn’t always been ugly to each other. But at this point, it was just easier for everyone to continue in the direction we were already going. After all, we were both fine left to our own devices.

  I rang her door bell and resisted the urge to check myself out in the spotless glass of her front door for fear that she would catch me. She always pitied my vanity. Which was annoying. Almost as annoying as the fact that she hadn’t had a pimple since sixth grade.

  “Dawn.”

  “Hi Carol,” I said, stepping inside.

  We hugged without pressing against each other.

  “Thanks for coming to get her things,” she said, dropping her eyes for a moment. “And for letting her stay with you.”

  “Of course.”

  “Despite, you know, our-”

  “It’s no problem,” I said. “Are her things…” I looked around.

  “Just upstairs,” she said. Carol looked down at my shoes and started up the steps.

  I took the hint, kicked off my boots, and followed her upstairs to Kate’s room.

  It was a typical teenage girls’ room. Cluttered. Over-decorated. Like the mind of a child-woman turned inside out and smeared on the wall. There was a poster of a heavily styled boy band on one wall. The nearby desk had a snow globe with Tinkerbell inside it next to a palette of eye shadow the size of a dessert plate.

  The opposite wall featured a corkboard littered with pink and purple pushpins. Every inch of it was covered with pictures of her lacrosse team, her friends at school dances, honor roll certificates, and movie ticket stubs. It was all weirdly familiar. Except for a random bumper sticker of a greyhound on top of the letter L.

 

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