by Sarah Delany
Don’t Think.
Just Breathe.
By Sarah Delany
Copyright © 2020 Sarah Delany
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.
Graphic Design (Cover) - Michael Pati Fuiava
Editing & Proofreading - Rebecca Andrews
Dedication
In honour of my Daddio,
John (JD) Delany
Who had the biggest presence in any room and
who left the biggest hole in my heart.
Until we meet again. I hope this makes you proud.
Loving you always,
Your darling daughter.
Contents
Don’t think. Just breathe.
Copyright © 2020 Sarah Delany
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Playlist for ‘Don’t think. Just breathe.’
Acknowledgements
Feedback
About The Author
Chapter 1
---Tate---
Could this party get any more boring? I’d been leaning against this wall for the last thirty minutes watching everyone in the crowded room. I’m surprised I haven’t left an imprint of myself on the wall. I have had several people stare at me but ultimately they are all strangers to me other than my cousin JP and his best friend Rafe who dragged me out tonight. Being new in town they thought I needed to mingle. I wanted to stay home and try to get some sleep for once. I’m always so tired but can never sleep. My thoughts keep me awake. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.
So here I am, surrounded by drunken teenagers but feeling utterly alone. JP and Rafe have ditched me and are nowhere to be seen. There are so many people crammed into this room and not a single one has approached me or tried to make conversation. I guess that’s what I get for being the new guy; invisible and easily looked over. It will be a different story once we start school next week. And that’s when I spot her; the girl from the other night. This time she’s dressed in a simple white strapless dress flowing down past her knees. The skylight above her casting a spotlight on her, illuminating her, giving her the appearance of an angel minus the wings. I wonder if she remembers me? I watch her. She’s magnetising and I can’t resist the pull. My eyes refuse to leave her. She’s so alive and carefree. So different from the girl I came across by chance. She laughs then but it doesn’t reach her eyes. No one else notices. It’s all an act. To me she’s scared and ready to bolt from her cage at a moment’s notice. However, to the ignorant drunken people surrounding her, she is the life of the party.
Her friend spins her around, her dress lifting and twirling with her body. They’re having a right old time laughing and spilling their drinks, throwing caution to the wind. She peers around like she can sense someone watching her. She catches my eye and we stare at each other but while my gaze is filled with curiosity, hers is blank. There’s no recognition on her face. I don’t understand. Does she not remember me? Does she not remember the other night?
JP walks past at that moment and I grab his shoulder.
“Hey, who’s the girl?” He follows my gaze and laughs at me when he realises who I’m talking about.
“She’s out of your league. Don’t waste your breath,” he warns.
“But what’s her name?” I plead.
“Tamsyn Winter. She’s as cold as ice just like her name suggests. Don’t go near her unless you’re willing to risk frostbite.” Tamsyn, aye. Now I have a name to match the face. His description of her is wrong though and so far off the girl I met the other night.
A few nights ago
I can’t sleep again so I’ve ventured out for a run to try and wear myself out. I hope if I push my body to exhaustion, I might finally be able to catch some zzzzs. I run past the dock which has seen better days and catch a glimpse of someone sitting there by themselves. An odd sight for this time of night so I move closer to investigate. As I approach, I notice chocolate brown hair lying in curls half way down a bare hunched back, with elbows resting on their knees. It’s a girl. She doesn’t appear to be much older than me. Her green halter dress tight against her waist flows out to the sides of her. Slowly she turns and that’s when I see her. She looks magical like a fairy. The most piercing blue eyes stare at me. On closer inspection I see they are rimmed with red. She’s so broken and defeated.
“Hey, you ok there?” I ask.
“I haven’t seen you before, you new here?” She slurs her words a bit, which leads me to believe she might be drunk. The empty bottle of vodka at her feet confirms it.
“Yeah I am,” I reply.
“What’s your name?” she asks.
“Tate,” I tell her.
“Tate, do you know how to swim?”
Stunned by her question I stare at her for a minute before answering, “Yes.”
“Great, would you jump in and save me if I was drowning?”
“What?” I screech, thrown off guard.
“Drowning. You know? Can’t breathe, going to die, drowning? Would you save me?” she questions.
“Yeah sure I would. You aren’t thinking of jumping in now, are you?” She throws her head back and laughs. I stare at her in shock, wondering who this girl is. All of a sudden she pulls herself up to stand and elongates her neck to look me in the eye. Pain reflects in her eyes. What has made this girl so broken? Right now, staring at her I’d do anything to save her if she asked me to.
“Promise?” she whispers.
“Promise,” I reply.
“Good. I might hold you to that promise.” Like a bullet she is off, sprinting away into the night, her dress and hair whipping behind her. Her bare feet carrying her into the night, leaving me standing there alone, stunned and speechless.
Observing her now, I don’t see the broken girl from the dock. The broken girl has been replaced and is hidden behind this act of a bubbly, happy girl who’s content to drink lolly water and dance carelessly to teeny bopper music. No one can see the difference. No one can see her struggles. I wonder what she is like. Oh, how I want to know everything about this girl. All I want to do is help her. How can I get her to reveal the girl she so clearly hides from the world? Before I can make my way to her, her friend leads her away through the drunken crowd and just as fast as she came, she’s gone again. I wonder if she runs track, she’s always moving full speed ahead in the opposite direction, away from me.
The rest of the weekend drags. I spend Sunday with JP in couch potato mode. Cocooned on the faded blue bean bags in his lounge, junk food wrappers engulf us as we button bash each other to death on the
Xbox. The highlight of my day is beating JP playing Call of Duty. I mock him, calling him by his full name John Paul (which I know he hates) annoying him enough I keep winning. Mindlessly shooting people and giving my cousin shit is a short reprieve from my thoughts. That night I finally manage to get some sleep but am tortured by dreams. I’m tortured by the same old dreams of the blonde broken girl who left me behind, who I selfishly ignored. To top it off, my dreams now feature another broken girl, this time a brunette. One, who doesn’t remember we met, who I would give anything to help. Her striking blue eyes torment me. In my dreams you can see the suffering within. I think I recognise the signs because I’ve seen it before. Brokenness. It’s what follows me, what I can’t outrun. It finds me when I’m awake and then follows me into my sleep. There’s no escape. I wake with a jolt. It was a dream. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think!
Blaring noise wakes me from the little sleep I had. I stretch my hand out searching for my phone to silence the wretched noise. Turning off the alarm, I scan my room. My aunt and uncle have provided me with everything I could need. A king size bed, a dresser for my clothes, a flat screen television and a mean sound system that’s off the hook. I turn on the stereo, Breaking Benjamin blasting their newest song, and get lost in the beat of the music.
Now it’s time to get ready for my first day at my new school. Getting dressed in my newly ironed uniform brings about thoughts of my parents. Every time I started at a new school they would make me pose for an awkward first day of school photo. I guess there won’t be any photos this year. Transferring to a new school in my last year of high school was not my idea but theirs. They had the bright idea I needed time away, a change of scenery, distance or whatever lame excuse they could come up with so they wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore. Don’t think. It’s a new day, new school. I don’t have time to get lost in my thoughts today. I need to get a move on or I’m going to be late. But first I treat myself to my much needed caffeine hit. When you can’t sleep, caffeine becomes a habit; addictive like cocaine. JP hollers at me to hurry so I skull the rest of the frothy goodness and run out to his car where he’s waiting.
JP drives us to school in his old, beat up, murky brown Ford. With the windows down, wind whistling past, blowing a breeze into my face I close my eyes and just breathe. And there they are; the piercing blue eyes from the other night. Now they taunt me in my thoughts and in my dreams. Suddenly the car halts and voices penetrate the fleeting peace I had moments ago. Opening my eyes I realise we have arrived at school. So this is it, my new detention centre for the next year. I grab my backpack from the back seat as JP hops out of the car. I follow suit and join him around the front. He doesn’t linger in the car park so I follow his footsteps as he leads us up the wide concrete steps. Fist bumping and head nodding to people he knows as we pass on the way.
He leads me to an open door with an older lady sitting behind an antique mahogany desk. Thick wire rimmed glasses frame her plump face. Her hair greying at the sides is pulled back in a tight bun atop her head.
“You alright if I leave you here bro?” JP asks me with a concerned expression. He’s been worrying about me since I arrived a few weeks ago and I hate it so I nod.
“Sweet, I’ll meet you at lunch time,” he tells me before he extends his fist for me to bump, then he’s on his way, probably off to find Rafe before classes start. Glancing back at me to make sure I’m okay, I smile at him, letting him know it’s alright to leave me. You would think it’s my first day of kindergarten and he’s my father, the way he’s acting. I turn back to the lady behind the desk and she finally notices me and gives me a warm smile.
“Tate Devereaux?” she questions, knowing I must be the new kid.
“That’s me,” I reply with fake enthusiasm.
“Well come in and let’s get you sorted. I’m Mrs. Davies. Head Administrator. If you need help with anything you can come and see me.” Her gentle nature puts me at ease and ten minutes later I have my folded schedule in hand and I’m headed to my first class of the day, English.
As I wander to my classroom through the crowded halls I am objectified, like a piece of fresh meat hanging in the tree waiting for the tigers to pounce. The girls all stare at me batting their lashes, not hiding their obvious perusal of me while the guys all eye me up with caution, wondering who the hell I am and if I’m going to be a problem. I’m slightly taller than six foot so I can see why they might be threatened.
I’m relieved when I find the English room. Luckily it wasn’t too hard, it was down the corridor from the administration office. I enter the classroom and the first thing I see is her. Tamsyn. She’s sitting down the back of the class with some other girls chatting and giggling. Her chocolate coloured waves pulled up into a high ponytail give me a perfect view of her face. I’m drawn to her, her magnet is in full force and I can’t stop myself as I squeeze through the aisle of desks to the empty seat in front of her. They all watch me as I approach and try to sit at the empty desk.
“You can’t sit there. Seat’s taken,” one of her friends snidely remarks.
“Oh okay, my bad. Where can I sit?” I query, my eyes locked on hers. Staring straight back at me she wiggles uncomfortably in her seat.
“Up the front with all the other losers. Loser!” she deadpans and it has all her friends snickering behind their hands. She’s smiling at me now but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes hold my attention because they are shrouded in pain like it hurt her to say those words to me. The not so friendly smile conflicting with the sadness in her gaze. I plaster on a smile.
“I’m Tate by the way,” I say as I turn and walk away to the front of the class. For a second she’s confused like she recognises my name. Her drunken memory is probably playing tricks on her with thoughts of deja vu and she can’t figure out why my name sounds familiar. Blame the vodka for that, sweetness. I take a seat in the front row of desks and hear the cackling of laughter coming from behind me. I can see why JP described her as cold as ice. She has the persona down pat. It’s the wounded spirit inside I want to get to know, not this fake girl she’s pretending to be. I angle my head to the back of the class catching her eye. Her laughter seizes instantly and her gaze drops to her desk as she tucks a stray hair behind her ear. The class quietens as our teacher walks in. A short, stocky man with a black receding hairline makes his way behind the teacher’s desk.
“Hello class, I’m Mr. Barnes your English teacher for the year and what a year it’s going to be.” His optimistic attitude has my attention as he goes over the curriculum for the year. You can see why he became an English teacher as he talks about the subject with such passion. English is one of my favourite subjects so I can see this class being one of the highlights of my day. Without realising, the bell rings, signaling the end of class. How time flies when you’re having fun. I bend down to pick up my backpack I’d placed on the carpeted floor and pull my schedule out of my pocket. Next up I have Human Biology 101. I lean over to the lanky guy who’s sitting next to me and ask him if he can tell me where the science lab is.
“Hey I’m Scott, I’ve got human bio too. You can walk with me if you want?” He holds out his hand so I extend mine and shake his hand.
“Fitting right in with the other losers there, aren’t you?” Tamsyn’s friend comments, and the group of girls laugh on their way out the door. Tamsyn walks behind them and avoids my gaze. They don’t notice she doesn’t join in with their laughter this time.
“Ignore them,” Scott tells me, as I watch them exit the class and then follow him. “They’re always dishing out crap, thinking they are better than everyone else,” he tells me. Sounds like he is used to the way they treat him. We make small talk on the way to the science labs which doesn’t take us long. This school is tiny.
As we enter the room for Human Biology 101, a thin framed, middle aged lady stands in front of the class. Her salt and pepper pixie haircut makes her gaunt cheekbo
nes stick out. Her brown eyes are surrounded by a harsh line of black eyeliner. A row of sparkling earrings line her ears from top to bottom. If she wasn’t standing there so rigid in a grey pencil suit I would think she was a punk rocker.
“Greetings students,” she happily says, as we enter. “I’m Ms. Chadwick for those of you who don’t know me. I’ll be your human biology teacher for the year. I have assigned seating in alphabetical order so I can learn your names easier. Find your seat and we’ll get started.”
The bench seats sit two per desk and are pushed together with another so we have four people sitting together in a row. I begin the search for my name at the back of the class and that’s when I spot Tamsyn seated at a desk already. So she’s in two of my classes. And it’s my lucky day, I’m seated right next to her at the end of the row. Before I can say anything to her, Scott comes up on the other side of her where he finds his name.
“Ugh,” I hear her quietly groan. She’s obviously not happy about being seated between us. I try not to laugh. Karma is a bitch, isn’t it? I glance at Scott before we both sit down and he’s thinking the same thing as he has a giant smirk on his face.
Rafe happens to enter the room then and I’m greeted with the biggest smile.
“Yo Tate,” he cheerfully greets me as he takes a seat on Scott’s other side. He puts his arm along the back of Scott’s chair and leans back to get my attention.
“How’s your first day going buddy?” he asks.
I shrug as I say, “So-so I guess.”
“Well your day has improved now because I’m in class with you,” he chuckles, and I can’t help but smile. I can see why Rafe is JP’s best friend. They grew up down the road from each other and have been best friends since they were little. Rafe is a bit taller than me and built like a brick wall. He spends a lot of time in the gym which explains all the muscle. With his tanned skin, honey brown eyes and brown hair flopping in his eyes, you can see why he has girls hanging off of him twenty-four seven. It’s always a different girl too. Doesn’t want to limit himself, he likes to say. Feeling better about having a couple familiar people in the class I settle into my seat next to Tamsyn.
