Breathe With Me (The Breathe Series Book 3)

by Wendy L. Wilson

  MY EYES KEEP WANDERING OVER to his camper; to our place. I can’t help it; I can’t even focus on any task at hand through the overwhelming surge of heartache that is drowning me with the thoughts of what could be happening right now. Another portion of my heart chips away as I stare at it, hoping they’ll come right back out or maybe even see Skylar leave by herself. God, doesn’t he know how bad that hurts?

  “Hey, you need help with that?”

  Chris’ hand runs the length of my back as he walks up beside me and tries to take the muddy log out of my hand. My skin jumps and I gasp with the contact. As bad as I am tempted to flinch, I keep it under control; I’ve learned to.

  “No, I’ve got it.” I jerk the piece of wood to my opposite side, twisting away from him and dislodging his hand from my body. Looking back at him with a guilty smile, I try my best to erase all forms of bitterness in my tone. It’s not his fault I’m screwed up. “Sorry, control freak here,” I laugh, widening my eyes.

  He laughs with me and his hand falls back to the same place, making me take a deep breath.

  “You say this like I don’t know you.” He winks and my guilt climbs. “Give it up.”

  He takes the log out of my hands, immediately easing the ache in my arms and freeing my forearms from the overbearing stress of the bark jabbing into my skin. Looking down, my fair skin is already sporting a zebra-type embedded print of red lines from where it managed to dig in. I glance back to Chris as he dumps the log into the pile that we have collected, then automatically peek to the camper in the distance.

  Why do I let it bother me? Do I really expect him to sit around and pine over me? That’s definitely not Evan’s style. I’m the one that chose to stay away and not forgive him, so what right do I have to begrudge him a chance at finding someone else?

  “You think that’s enough or should we get some more?” Chris asks, pointing back at the massive collection of drift wood, logs and twigs we have arranged in a woven nest of limbs.

  “Dude, that’s enough for us to burn down the entire forest,” Hayden pipes up from behind us.

  “Guys, I really think this is enough,” Abby calls out from my left, “Geez, Piper, do you plan on having a bonfire till the end of the week or were you hoping we wouldn’t need the fireplace in the cabin tonight if this one was raging enough?” she teases, igniting a burst of laughter from Hayden.

  I glance up at the heap of branches and shrug. Honestly, I wasn’t paying attention to what I was collecting each time I came back to the beach with an armful. Ever since I saw Skylar race over to the shower house and disappear into the woods holding Evan’s hand, my mind has had one strategy: get back to the beach as fast as I can to see if they came back. I could see them for a while walking down the property line; walking the exact path he and I would every time we went on one of our fishing or swimming excursions in his grandpa’s boat. Oh, just the thought of him doing the same things with someone else kills me.

  “Pie…” Abby draws out my name as she walks up beside me.

  “Yeah…” I push my thoughts aside for the moment and snap my head around, making eye contact with her.

  Her eyes, however, have gravitated to the same location mine have been most of the morning; to where Evan is. She smiles, an all-knowing and sympathetic expression masking her face. She knows what happened that summer and afterwards. Not even Evan knows the aftermath of his screw up; how could he? I’ve never had a thing to do with him since. The closest interactions we have had in the last few years, was last summer and this year’s Halloween party, needless to say, neither were friendly reunions.

  “Everything ok?”

  She dips her chin to level her gaze with my barely five foot four-inch frame and although she’s not saying as much, I know she’s curious.

  “No, I’m fine,” I bite out with a false snippy yet playful tone. “How are you?” I counter, and Abby relents in her worry as Chris and Hayden make their way to our side.

  “Ok, so is it time to light up?” Hayden rubs his hands together, clearly psyched about torching the mound.

  I nod, while Hayden and Chris take off for the cabin.

  “Ok, dish it out. You are looking at his camper like you didn’t expect this. You know he has been seeing Skylar off and on for a while.”

  “I know…” I sigh, unable to control glancing up to see if he is coming out yet. Dammit…stop looking.

  “There you go again.” Abby points to my face, looking ticked off at how I’m acting. “Piper, you have been dating Chris for two months now. It has been years and you’ve never even tried to talk to Evan, so until you decide to man up and give him a chance to explain, don’t get pissy when he runs off with another girl. He has to move on just like you do. If you want him, then you need to tell him.”

  I stare at her, my mouth gaped open as usual when she puts me in my place for acting like a whiney baby. She’s right. I have no business punishing him, but I still do and I’ll probably continue to do it. I don’t have the nerve to confront him and all that happened. I do good to push the thoughts and images away each and every time Chris and I get close.

  “Do you even love him?”

  My eyes nearly bulge out as I snap my neck around to look at her. Her hands are defiantly at her hips with her eyebrows drawn up expectantly with her lips stretched into a thin line.

  “Evan?” I spit out immediately confused by her question.

  “No!” she bites out with a shake of her head. “Chris.”

  This loses me even more. Glancing back to the house afraid if anyone can hear our conversation, I confirm that Hayden and Chris are not within earshot as I speak up.

  “Well, no…I don’t…” I stumble. Why is she asking this? “I like him, but I mean, isn’t it a little soon to be confessing my love for him. It’s been two months.”

  She doesn’t budge, looking at me skeptically while she slides her hands from her hips to fold across her chest.

  “What?!”

  “Piper, where did you put the lighter?” Chris yells from behind me, but I don’t even turn. I keep my eyes glued to Abby with hers also on me, both of us silent. One thing about Abby is she doesn’t choose sides and if she has a problem, she’s not afraid to let you know it.

  I start to turn to go back to the cabin, unsure of what else to add to this conversation. I don’t have a leg to stand on. I’m wrong to still hold this grudge.

  “Hang on, I’ll show you,” Abby directs her voice to Chris, then looks back at me standing in front of her. “You, sit here and think about what the hell you are doing. This is the same as last summer…you need to get this crap under control. If you’re not going to talk to him, then leave him alone and stop with the dirty looks and for God’s sake, stop looking so damn miserable every time he goes somewhere with another girl. It’s going to happen.” She arches a brow and tightens her hands across her chest, before softening her stance. “I love you and I understand this is hard, but you need to do what’s right. This isn’t good for you anymore than it is good for him. Ok?”

  I nod, feeling defeated and like a coward. My shoulders slump as her arms engulf me in a squeeze-the-life-out-of-you Abby-kind-of-hug.

  “Ok, I’ll be back,” she whispers in my ear before darting off.

  “Ok, Mom,” I mumble glumly.

  My legs give out and I slide to the sand. Tugging my knees to my chest, I look between the tangle of branches in an attempt to peer at Evan’s camper. What am I doing? Why can’t I let him go and just move on?

  My mind twists and turns, flipping through pages of memories with him and me until it lands on the moment in time when he made me feel the safest. The day I needed it the most, yet he had no idea that he was saving me. He still has no idea what that night was to me.

  Carefully shutting the front door of the cabin with my heart beating on the walls of my chest, I take off in the darkness, not even thinking of where I’m going. I don’t care. Right now, jumping in the lake with the heaviest rock I can find in my
hands sounds like the most suitable solution for my grief. I don’t want to think; I can’t. Running wildly, my arms flop around at my sides, the air burns my lungs and tears sting my eyes and chap the skin of my cheeks.

  A whimper echoes in my mind and I squeeze my eyes shut as my feet catch on something sharp. My body flings forward and instantly I throw my arms out on instinct. I hope I break my neck. Maybe I’ll hit my head and bleed to death before anyone finds me. My chest hits the ground with a thud as a dull tingle stretches up from my knees. I scrunch my face and slowly lift myself to my hands and knees as gravel grinds into my palms. I’m still alive. My head throbs and no matter how I try I cannot shut off my mind.

  Another whimper sound, mixed with heavy breaths in my ear. God, no! I push up from the ground, still on my knees and slam my hands over my ears.

  Stop it! Stop it! Stop it, my mind screams.

  Just stop it!

  I shake my head wildly, losing my balance and falling to my butt, more pebbles scraping into my skin as the pain gives me a sense of relief. My knees throb and more tears come. I have no control. What happened? Why? Was it my fault?

  Pressing my eyes closed as I lie still in the middle of the parking lot, just steps away from a white truck with a side sticker that reads Jansen’s Construction, I listen to the sounds of the night. The frogs croak, the crickets chirp and tiny splashes sound farther away until little-by-little a serene image of peace and calm starts to break through all the dreadful thoughts that keep swallowing my mind whole. Letting out a breath, the shooting pain in my side begins to subside as my lungs welcome a steady, easy flow of air once again.

  Just as my trembling legs muster up the energy to support my weight and as I swing them around to stand, another sound fills my eardrums; I cringe.

  “Hold still,” the whisper is laced in pain and regret.

  My chest swells as my mouth drops open in a sob, filling me with adrenaline and the need to run; run away from the voice, the breaths, and the memories.

  No, no…stop!

  I run and run and run, running so fast that my mouth is unable to take in air fast enough. Twigs snap and my feet stumble, barely catching myself a few times, until they find a solid surface. Where am I? I look around, my mind panicked and my heart thundering out for a reprieve from the anguish. Fumbling for the handle, my hand grips to a hard metal knob and I pull, doubting I may even have the strength to get it open. To my surprise, I swing it forward with a stealthy force I didn’t know I had; with hidden strength that should have been used to fight earlier, however, I was frozen; too scared to move, to do anything except be a victim. Is it my fault?

  A crackle sounds behind me and I look up, aware of my surroundings for the first time. My eyes are fogged over and more streams of water continue to fill them as I stare ahead at the cracked mirror above the sink in the shower house. The light is on, yet the room is still dull; dark and filled with the dusty odor of mold and mildew. My throat wobbles and my stomach clinches as I run forward, throwing myself over the sink as I hurl. Emptying my stomach, one painful catapult of my body at a time, I cry harder, letting exhaustion, shame and sorrow consume me.

  After a few minutes my stomach stops ripping me apart, I look down at the mess in the sink as the smell of the pizza I ate earlier takes on a whole new image in my mind. I’ll never eat that again. It takes me a few minutes to clean up my mess, too embarrassed that any sign of me being here will let everyone see the dirty images in my head. I toss the wad of paper towels into the trash and take a deep breath. Calm down, calm down, I repeat over and over to myself, hoping it will take my heart and head to another place; a moment in time that was beautiful, not ugly. Everything is ugly now.

  Glancing up, I look at my reflection. Is that me? My lip curls into a snarl and I’m disgusted by the sight that looks back at me. I want to scream at it. Flinching as I continue to stare, I fight to resist shouting that it is all my fault; that I’m to blame. How’d it happen? Did I say something that made him think that it was ok, or do something that offered it up as an option he felt was available to him?

  I drop my arms to my side, all energy and emotion slowly dripping out of them. I look down for a second, sure that there will be a puddle at my feet; a small river of tears and possibly even blood from my heart being torn from my soul. On top of all the pain and agony inside of me my bladder screams, but I don’t even want to touch myself. I’m scared. I can’t tell anyone ever.

  After minutes of more sobbing, gagging, shaking until I swear I’m suffering from seizures and after painfully wiping any traces of the incident away, I make my way out of the shower house, numb and not knowing where I can go. I glance over to my cabin and a surge of vomit begins to quake in my stomach. Immediately dismissing any thoughts of going back home, my eyes catch sight of a light suddenly appearing right ahead of me; Evan.

  I wipe at my eyes, rubbing them with the back of my hands so there is not a single sign of my tears as I race for his camper. I think this is where I saw him go the other day. My mind speeds faster than my legs can carry me, running through possible things to say if he doesn’t answer the door and even things to say if he does.

  Are you busy? At midnight, I’m sure he’s just hanging out waiting for company.

  I was just going for a walk and wanted to say hi. Again, it’s after midnight.

  Panic rises to the back of my throat, but it’s too late. My knuckles hit the door with a quick tap-tap before limply falling back to my sides. The silence is deafening as I listen to the thud of my heartbeat, wondering if somehow it could be his footsteps moving towards the door.

  With a loud grating-creak sound, the small metal door comes open and I step out of the way.

  Evan’s eyes widen in surprise. “Piper. Hey…what’s up?”

  He stands in the doorway in a loose tee shirt and baggy black gym shorts. I tremble, unable to form words. The smile that usually adorns his face falls, and a look of absolute concern and alertness takes over as he steps down the three steps and places his hand on my shoulder.

  “Hey, are you ok?”

  I look over at his hand; my heart jumps and my skin crawls as I slink back from him a bit.

  “I’m ok. I was just…” I glance around, nervously fidgeting with the hem of my shirt and struggling not to cry.

  “Hey…hey…” He moves closer, but keeps his hands at his sides. I suddenly feel like a deer during firearms season, ready to bolt at the tiniest sound. “Have you been crying?”

  My eyes search the campers outside walls, the beige, brown and rust stripes merging into one blurry mess between the darkness and the glaze of tears that have cropped up. Don’t cry, don’t cry.

  I don’t say a word just stare around for an escape. This was a bad idea.

  “Hey, you know what? I was just going to play a card game or something by myself. Lame, I know, but it’d be more fun with two players.”

  He steps backwards, carefully up just one stair as his hand comes into my line of sight and his other foot steps up onto the next.

  “You wanna come in for a bit and kick my butt at cards?”

  His laugh fills my ears and it’s comforting; it’s beautiful as it always has been. I look up immediately, my eyes wide as I see a smile shadowing his face. His hand remains held out and I don’t even recognize my own movement until I feel a grip on my own hand. My feet move without me telling them to and before I know it, I am sitting on the edge of his bed. He sits beside me and I look around. I should be scared. I should want to bolt, to run, but I don’t.

  “Ok…let’s see.” He gets up and walks to a table in the middle of the room. Reaching above it, he opens a set of cabinet doors and pulls out a stack of old board games, complete with dingy, ripped up boxes. “We have Monopoly, Clue, Chess…” He sticks that one back into the cabinet. “Sorry, I hate that one…” rifling through a few more, I watch his movement, comforted with my heartbeat finally steadying to a slow rap. “Monopoly is a good one. It’ll keep us busy.” He
smiles and I snap my head to take in his expression, curious of whether he can see in my eyes what happened only minutes earlier.

  After shuffling the other games back into the cabinet, he heads back to the bed.

  “Hang on,” he says softly.

  He reaches around me with deliberate slow and careful movements as he does his best to flatten his comforter around me. I stand up for a second and he takes the opportunity to finish the job before spreading the board out on the mattress.

  Minutes stretch by as we busy ourselves in an old-school board game. He is relentless at working to get a laugh out of me and even though I find it hard, my lips curve up in a familiar shape once or twice. He never once pushes to know what is going on, but I can tell he can see the pain. He probably assumes I got in a fight with my parents or had a bad dream, and I’d rather keep it that way. I never want Evan to know.

  With another roll of the dice, Evan grabs my game piece and moves it for me, counting the steps out loud as he taps it to the board.

  “Look at that…I told you, you’d kick my butt.”

  His smile stretches as he looks at me and I stare back, our eyes locked in an innocent friendship, comfortable acceptance and timeless concern of each other’s welfare and happiness. I breathe out a truck load of gratefulness as I fight every ounce of emotion inside of me that is threatening to break free. It surges through me like a typhoon practically forcing me face down and buried in his pillow as I yearn for Evan to rescue me…

  To make it go away….

  To protect me…

  For him to do anything and everything to save me and keep me safe.

  COMING OUT OF THE CAMPER, I grip Skylar’s hand as we sneak stupid ass grins at each other.

  “So you’re absolutely sure that you never messed around with my brother?” I twitch my brows down, a little grossed out thinking about her and him. Oh shit, that’s disgusting.

  “Wait a minute…you never asked if I messed around with him. You asked if I had sex with him, point blank.” She looks at me straight-faced before breaking into a smile.