Don't Forget to Breathe

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Don't Forget to Breathe Page 8

by Cathrina Constantine


  I felt Nona’s hand in the ruse. “What happened to Nona and Reggie?”

  “Reggie just said to pick you up.” He shrugged, indifferent.

  Becket’s hair in total disarray boosted his rowdy side, sporting jeans and his black leather jacket. We shot along Westgate and the cool air stung my eyeballs. Whether he deciphered my watery eyes or my hair whipping around my head, he pressed the button, rolling up the windows. Disparate then the preceding time driving in his car with calming strings, today Led Zeppelin rocked. I love music, but not when it shattered my eardrums.

  Becket looked stressed-out, one hand on the wheel and the other curled in a fist on his thigh tapping a constant drum. His jaw clenched and he stared straight ahead as golden hair hung like a safeguard over his brow and cheeks. I didn’t even attempt conversation over the music and settled into the bucket seat.

  Almost to Hallow High, I was rankled by his cold shoulder treatment. Taking the initiative I turned down the volume. “I can’t hear myself think.”

  “I didn’t want to think today.” He refused to look at me.

  “I heard you called last night.” I knew the crisis and decided to break the ice.

  He pushed hair off his forehead. “After Reggie texted me your new number, I wanted to check to see how you were. You seemed pretty messed up when I dropped you home.”

  “Thank you,” I said amiable. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for ruining everything, at Earl’s, I mean.” I felt the need to expand on my insanity. “Since my mom…” The lining of my throat felt like tiny needles as I tried to speak. “I’ve been having these recurrent nightmares. And it just so happened the night before we went for coffee, I had a bad one. And when you asked about her, I lost it.”

  Becket looked at me for the first time. A pokerfaced glance, I didn’t know how to read him. “I’m assuming that wasn’t your father who answered your phone,” he said. “I’m glad you had someone to keep you company then.”

  Was he being frank or facetious? “Henry James dropped by for a minute,” I offered. “He didn’t stay long.” My insides cringed, why’d I say that?

  “No need to explain. It’s not like we’re dating or anything like that. You want to make out with that Henry guy, go for it.”

  My hackles spiked. “You’re right. Henry’s a…” I was going to say friend, but out of spite, changed my mind. “He’s nice.”

  “Then why did Reggie want me to pick you up?” He made the turn into the school. “Nice Henry could’ve driven you in. I saw his car parked at his house.”

  “You didn’t have to pick me up,” I answered, sounding disturbed. Then recognized that Becket knew exactly where Henry lived and the model of car that he drove.

  “I felt obligated,” he said.

  “Obligated? Why?” My temperature was on the rise.

  “Because…I made you cry.” Cocking his head sideways, solemn blue eyes peered into my face.

  That extinguished my boiling temp. “I cry a lot nowadays. No big deal.”

  “Leo, if you have a thing with Henry just tell me so I won’t waste my time.”

  “You think I’m wasting your time?”

  “No, not at all. And you know that’s not what I meant. Just be truthful.”

  Becket had gumption, a boy who didn’t like playing mind games. He needed to know the facts and figures up front before proceeding. So I lessened his concerns. “I like Henry. We’re…we’re friends.”

  “Friends with benefits? Or just ‘how ya doin’ friends?”

  Did he just say that? The remembrance of Henry pawing me in the graveyard, and then last night in my bedroom saying, I belong to him. Deceiving heat molested my neck, and I felt it creeping into my face.

  “You answered my question.” Sullen, he shouldered the car door. Star Hallow football players were arriving along with a bus load of their opponents, Sweet Home High. People were walking into the sports complex.

  “Becket—” I leapt out of the car and called after his retreating back. “It’s…it’s not what you think.”

  Arresting in his tracks, Becket turned. “I think I can read you fairly well, Leocadia.”

  “And that’s where you’re wrong, Becket Kane,” I barked in return.

  Chapter 15

  Cursing under my breath, I marched toward the football field where the cheerleaders would be warming up. Fingers bound my arm, spinning me around. My mouth parted in surprise as I peered upward into Becket’s darkening eyes. He captured my lips, manipulating me like an expert, neither hard nor abusive. Caressing my mouth with his, his fingers slipped beneath my hair igniting feelings I never knew existed. His kiss stole my breath and my heart.

  “Meet me at my car after the game.” As quick as he appeared, Becket was gone.

  In a trance I ambled to join the squad and stumbled on a clutch of girls blocking the path. The meddlesome ones, who spread vulgar gossip, leered at me. Becca said, “Leo Nelson. Are you screwing two guys at the same time?” Ignoring her snarky comment, I strode by their group only to hear, “It’s not like Becket to scrape the dregs of the druggie pool.”

  I screeched to a stop. Their specialty to antagonize had me yearning to step into their ambush and start swinging. I’d done it before—that was the old me. I’m clean. Don’t listen to the grunges. Internally venting, I strengthened the space between my shoulder blades. Acting unfazed, I walked from their withering stares.

  Nona must’ve been on the lookout. As soon as I’d made an appearance, a giant smile shaped her face. “Hey, I was wondering if you were coming. You’re late.” She whispered in my ear, “Mrs. Zweigler’s looking for you. Just say you couldn’t find a ride or something.” I nodded. “Becket drove you here, didn’t he?”

  “Thanks for the heads up,” I scoffed, and dumped my duffle bag on the bench. “Stop trying to set me up, okay?”

  “Oh, did something go wrong?” She wound my arm as we walked shoulder to shoulder.

  “Yes” —casting her a wicked eye— “and then everything went right.”

  Her facial features went from skewed to luminous in less than a second. “So we’re good?” Her eager head bobbed. “Are you and Becket coming with Reggie and me to Earl’s?”

  “I don’t know, but he said to meet him by his car after the game.”

  “O-o-o…that’s good.” She pranced up and down, taking my body with her.

  The incandescent field lights showered the turf making it appear like daylight while the encompassing world looked inky black. A blast of a whistle drew us to Mrs. Zweigler, and for the next half hour we practiced routines while the bleachers on either side of the football field began to fill.

  An hour into the game and out of habit I scanned the bleachers searching for Dad and Henry. Their custom was to sit somewhere on the bottom bleachers so they could watch the squad cheering. Discovering Dad’s face in the crowd, I waved. He offered the thumbs up signal since the Panthers were winning seven to zip.

  Henry was nowhere to be seen. For some dang reason I felt mitigated and responsible at the same time that he was missing the game. He deserved to be booted out the window last night, yet he made nice this morning. What was that boy up too? Was he spaced-out and trawling through the Lucien place for God knows what?

  I heard a heaving groan from the spectators and twirled toward the playing field. Becket had been sacked by two behemoth boys. I gnawed my bottom lip agonizing with the spectators to see if he was hurt. With the aid of a teammate he staggered upright, the vast majority on both sides clapped and shouted encouragement.

  Surveying the events with the rest of the squad, Becket’s head veered in our direction just as a pair of arms roped my shoulders from behind. A cool face snuggled into the crook of my neck. The ubiquitous tang of marijuana enclosed me like a blanket, offering me the potential of sniffing a buzz off his fragrance. Henry loosened his grasp just enough so I could shift to face him. “Hey,” I said, “I didn’t think you were coming.” His prescription glasses were missin
g, though by the looks of his glazed eyeballs, I doubted he was seeing much.

  “I wouldn’t miss seeing you, Leo.”

  My fingers circled his wrists and pulled him from eavesdroppers and prying eyes toward the chain-linked fence. “You’re flying, Henry. Go home.”

  “You want me to drive like this?” He grinned and his eyes kept squinting and blinking. I suspected he was trying to focus.

  “How’d you get to the game?” Unsteady on his feet, he poked fingers into the linked fence to cling on.

  “I drove.”

  “Well, you’d better drive home—now.”

  He glanced over my head toward the field. “Kane just got his head served on a platter.” With his free hand, his fingertips stroked my cheek. “Kane deserves to get his head crunched for manhandling you.”

  I batted at his hand. “What the heck are you talking about?”

  “I saw the way he kissed you.” He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, either to comfort me or to support him.

  “So.” He forced me to reference the breathtaking kiss. “What of it?” He hiccupped looking pukey. If something terrible happened, I’d never live it down. Since I was a certifiable sap, he couldn’t drive in his condition. “The game is almost over. Wait for me by the gate and I’ll drive you and your car home.”

  Henry’s upper lip twisted and with half-mast eyes he looked satisfied with my decision. He weebled frontward expecting a hug or whatnot, I turned and flew back to the sidelines and my team.

  Nona appeared indignant. “What the hell was that about?”

  “Henry needs a ride home.” A group of girls inched closer for scandalous details.

  She clasped my arm and drew near enough to part my hair with her mouth, and said in my ear. “What about Becket? I thought we were going to Earl’s after the game? Leo, you can’t be juggling two boys at the same time. Not good, hun.”

  “But Henry can’t drive.”

  “Find someone else to drive his butt home.” She pointed to Grace Huffington. “Ask Grace, I think she likes Henry.”

  Fantastic idea. She’d be perfect for Henry. When I asked, Grace was ecstatic. She’d drive him home and tomorrow I’d bring him back to pick up his car. It was settled. Now I could dream about the night ahead with Becket.

  With seconds to spare, Star Hallow punted a field goal to squeak by and win the game with a ten to seven point lead as the referees blew the final whistles. Dad looked happy when he waved his goodbye. Nona and I huddled with the girls to thrash out plans for next week’s homecoming dance.

  “Actually, Paul asked me to go to the dance.” Blair glanced around. “And I said yes.” Cynical moans rolled around the minority of the girls, she added, “I’ve been waiting for him to make a move. I wasn’t going to blow it.”

  “Blair, I thought we were all going together,” Marcy complained, highlighting a pout. “We can have a good time without any boys messing things up.”

  “Sorry, girls,” Nona chimed in. “But I promised Reggie I’d go with him.”

  Marcy looked sour, punching balled fists on her hip. “Jeez, thanks for being traitors Blair and Nona.”

  “Hey, if Becket asked you to go,” Blair retorted, “you’d be the first to leave us in the dust and you know it.”

  Marcy’s face fell.

  Nona’s brown eyes looped to meet mine. All the girls shuffled their feet, not knowing where to look. It had been widely publicized that Marcy Cavanaugh, the treasure of Star Hallow High had been trolling for Becket.

  “Leo.” Marcy targeted me. “Has Becket asked you to the dance?”

  Jayne, a girl who was always two steps behind, cut in, “I heard Leo was going with Henry James.”

  Nona burst out, “Where in the world did you hear that garbage?”

  “Leo and Henry looked pretty involved tonight,” Marcy said. “And I heard she was kissing Becket before the game. What’s up with that, Leo?” Heads cranked from Marcy, then back to me with condescending brows.

  Never one to play catty girl games, I’d had enough. Let them gossip until their tongues turned blue and fell off. “I’d planned on going with y’all.” I shrugged. “But if the group is splitting, I’ll make other arrangements.” Why’d I feel like a two timing wench? I pivoted on the balls of my feet to walk along the sidelines. I didn’t care what they were cackling about behind my back.

  My best friend came striding by my side. “You did good. Marcy’s been a thorn in my butt since I made the team. Booya!” Nona raised her hand for a high-five. “Just ‘cause they’re seniors, Marcy and Blair feel they run the squad.”

  By half-past ten most of the congested parking lot had cleared when Reggie, full of pomp, danced from the field house. The wide receiver for the Panther’s was pumped and swaggered while clapping his hands with his characteristic pearly whites shining. “Hey, Baby. Did you see my running catch into the zone? I was smoking to-o-night.”

  Nona took that as an invitation to leap into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. “I sure did. But don’t be so conceited. You nearly lost the game with that fumble, sweety.”

  He chuckled. “Figured you’d mention that.” Reggie looked surprised when he noticed me leaning against Becket’s car. “Hey, Leo. We thought you were going home with Henry.”

  “Who told you that?” Nona toned severe and shimmied off Reggie.

  “Marcy.” He scratched the top of his head, confused. “Becket mentioned he’d seen Leo with Henry during the game.”

  “Why would you believe anything that Marcy has to say?” Nona looked inflamed as she talked for me. “You know she’s after Becket’s balls.”

  “Hey—” He backpedalled, holding his arms out to the side. “I’m just an innocent bystander.”

  The sound of girlish giggling flared through the empty lot as Becket and Marcy walked from the field house doors. Embarrassed by the miss communication, I didn’t know how to react. Marcy was clinging to Becket’s arm, he’d hooked up with a replacement quick enough. The two of them were face-to-face chatting it up.

  “Hey, Beck—” Reggie hollered.

  Becket swerved his head to the sound of his name and jerked a little at seeing me. Marcy’s grip tightened on his arm, holding it to her chest. An inscrutable expression infected her face, though I noticed her left eye twitch.

  “Leo,” he voiced unsure. “I…I thought you were…”

  “Nope, Beck. Wrong,” Reggie said. “Leo’s been waiting for you, man.”

  “We’re going to Earl’s if you’d like to tag along,” he said to Marcy. Becket tried to play it cool while unlacing his arm from her death grip.

  “No thanks,” she replied, heatedly. “We’ll get together another night, Becket.” As if I had said the words tag along, she shed me a scathing glare.

  Nona sneered at Marcy’s departing back. “See y’all at Earl’s.”

  Devoid of warmth, or speech, Becket clicked the lock on his car. After I was seated he slammed the door. I didn’t know how to feel about the convoluted situation.

  Becket was quick to set the affair in order. “I don’t do mind games.” The engine roared to life. “I need to know if you’re with Henry. Because I’m not playing tug-of-war.” Looking my way, his eyes gleamed in the spilling streetlight.

  “Henry was wasted.” I pocketed my cold hands. “I didn’t want him driving, so I asked Grace to drive him home.”

  “You evaded my question, and this isn’t the first time.” Becket folded fingers into his damp hair, pushing it off his face and pressed on his baseball cap.

  “I am not with Henry. He’s a friend.”

  “Hmm…” Nodding, Becket’s jawbone tweaked. “Good to know.”

  Chapter 16

  The four of us crammed into Earl’s for victory eats. Whooping shouts of approval held the eatery in a whirlwind. “It wasn’t me,” Becket declared. He was foremost to dispute his hyped up capabilities. “I had nothing to do with tonight’s win. It was this guy here—” buckling an arm over
Reggie’s shoulder— “Reggie flew like a bird to catch my overthrown ball for the one touchdown. And Randy completed the punt to win the game.” Everyone scoped out the joint for Randy, who was in the rear. He smiled, flagging an arm.

  Reggie went on, “And our defense ro-o-cked.”

  Following a considerable amount of jockeying, Becket managed to grab a table by the large picture window. “This place is crazy tonight,” he said, guiding me past him with a hand on my shoulder to the chair in the corner.

  “That’s because the weather’s cooperating.” Nona sat in front of the window with Becket and Reggie on either side. “Next week when it’s drizzling and cold this place will be deserted.”

  “Don’t say that, young lady,” Mrs. Torkelson said with a pad in hand ready to take our order. “We love when you kids stop in. How else can we survive without your patronage?”

  “We’ll be here, Mrs. Torkelson,” piped Reggie, beaming with his toothy smile. “Nothing can keep us away from your homemade fries.”

  “Spread the word, Reggie, and you might get five percent off your bill.” Mrs. Torkelson gave an insightful nod.

  “How ‘bout a free order of fries instead?”

  Her fleshy eyes tapered. “Half price for you—just for today.”

  “Alright!” Reggie, pleased with his haggling, slapped the table.

  Time elapsed and every taut muscle of mine slackened. Becket’s charismatic laughter and twinkling glances had me swooning, again. We talked about the game and our silly cheers and ate fries and burgers. While he was in a discussion with Reggie, Becket’s hand smoothed over mine and gently squeezed like it was natural. An ineffaceable grin spread my lips. Smitten.

  Earl’s hive of activity was buzzing down when I caught sight of Grace at the counter. While blowing over the rim of a steamy mug she turned in my direction. When she became aware of me looking at her, she indicated a secretive finger gesture.

 

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