Breathe With Me (The Breathe Series Book 3)

by Wendy L. Wilson

  Conflicted, I shift from foot to foot, widen my eyes and bite my lips between my teeth in thought. Above all, I do not want to argue when she says no, or stop, or go away, but leaving will just keep this barrier between us and she is not the only one exhausted. I’m tired of it being this way. She was my best friend; the only one I ever gave my heart to.

  “Would you just talk to me?” I say gently, hoping she can hear the urgency and distress in my voice.

  “Talk to you? You’re the last person I want to talk to,” she belts out.

  I flinch back, hating the animosity that she exhibits like I did that to her. I betrayed her, yeah, but I am not the villain here.

  “Stop making me the enemy,” I raise my voice mistakenly.

  That’s all it takes to elevate the whole thing. Piper shoots up to stand, stomping across the rickety boards till she is only a few feet in front of me with her hands defiantly at her hips and her chin rose up confidently.

  “Me?! Oh, you did that yourself, Evan, or don’t you remember?” she slams me with the exact thing I knew she would. Dammit! “Because if you don’t, I sure can remind you.”

  I deserve for her to say all of this to me. I deserve for her to hate me and I deserve for her to never speak to me again, but I can’t keep my mouth shut. Frustration on our lack of being able to just talk courses through me and elevates my voice to a pissed off tone.

  “Of course I remember, because you won’t ever let me forget! Don’t you believe in forgiveness, because maybe if you would calm down…just once…maybe…just maybe, we could put this behind us.”

  “Forgiveness!! Were you even there? Do you know what that did to me? Because I will never forget and I have a hard time forgiving that!”

  I stop for a minute and blow out a monstrous wind of anger before this blows up into a bloodbath. I hate fighting with her. I hate that she hates me. I miss her. God, I miss her. A whole chunk of my heart falls with that observation as I look at her figure under the dark canopied dock. Her small frame is straight as a board with her arms still at her side as if she’s a super hero. I glance at her from head to toe and back, and my whole body aches for her.

  Keeping bitterness that could be misconstrued as hatred out of my tone, I speak up remaining stern and exactly how I’ve always been with her; completely myself.

  “Damn it, Piper…I’ve said I was sorry and I know that doesn’t take away what happened, but I didn’t mean…”

  “Wait…don’t even go there. Don’t even claim that you didn’t mean to tell him!”

  I take another guzzle of air, trying to remain calm, but also wanting to let her talk.

  “You hurt me! No…no…you killed me!” she shouts it out and if words could kill, those would have me laying on the boat dock with my blood spilling between the boards into the murky waters below.

  “You betrayed me. You were the only one I trusted…the only one. I counted on you…” she stops talking and I can feel her eyes on me. They pin me down and keep me from running away from the guilt. I look down, too ashamed to let her see my face. “I thought you…” she pauses and my head snaps up with what she’s thinking. “You said that you…you know what? It doesn’t matter what you said, because you took it back the second you told your brother. I should have known it was all a joke to you.”

  Now this I cannot stand here and listen to. “What?! You know how I felt about you back then?”

  “Felt about me?! Oh please! Go tell that to one of those bimbos that you take home on the weekends, or wait…maybe Skylar is the flavor of the week!”

  Whoa, if it didn’t strike me as pure jealousy, I’d walk away from this conversation and say screw putting this behind us.

  She goes on with her rant and I stand quietly, listening as I was told to do. Judd, you owe me!

  “Besides, I was far from someone that guys pined over, Evan! What was it that made you want me the most…my flat chest…”

  I glance down, unable to make out her body in the darkness but know damn well that it is no longer flat. Not by a mile.

  “…or maybe it was my crooked smile covered in colored rubber bands…”

  I think back to the times around the camp fire this summer when she would laugh. The image is clear in my head, letting me know that I was watching her much more than I thought; so many times more than I should have.

  “Oh, maybe it was the way I flinched anytime anyone laid their hand on my back or brushed against my hips. Was it maybe that, that made me so appealing?” She quiets, probably searching for more ways to put herself down, but I am not going to stand for it.

  “Would you shut up and listen to me.” My stomach churns, talking to her like that, but she needs to stop, and the only way to do that is a quick jolt. I’ve never spoken to her like this. “I didn’t care about all that. Maybe that is what you saw when you looked in the mirror, but that’s not what I saw…that’s never what I saw. I never gave a damn about all that bullshit, because all I saw was you.” I think for a minute about when I first saw her this summer, how she had colored her hair from the jet black locks that I was used to. How when the sun hit her hair, how it took on a cherry red tone. How her boobs look like they’ve been altered to twice their size. I stop and second think that. That’s not so bad after all. “Actually, I think I liked you better with the braces and flat chest. At least you weren’t afraid to let me touch you back then.”

  “That’s because I trusted you!” she screams and I just know the entire camp ground heard her. “And look where that got me! The laughing stock of Rosemore High! I had to switch schools because of you or do you not remember that either! I had to move. My parents got divorced.”

  I gasp, bringing my hand up to my mouth. I knew she moved and I knew she changed schools, but I’ve never understood it. How could it be because of me? To get away from me, I always assumed, but that always seemed so drastic. Her parent’s getting a divorce is new information, and I desperately need her to explain what I did to contribute to that.

  “No, I didn’t know that or well, I knew you left, but I never understood why. Did you hate me that much? Why didn’t you just come scream at me back then or kick me in the nuts or pull my pants down in the cafeteria so everyone could make fun of me?” The corners of my mouth tick with a smile, hoping I can get a laugh out of her; I always could before.

  Her voice softens, “I’m tired.” Dropping her hands, she walks past me and my first instinct is to grab her.

  My hand rises and, it’s only centimeters away from touching her for the first time in forever, but I drop it to my side and speak, needing to reach her.

  “Piper…please. Can we just talk?”

  She turns and faces me and all that races through my mind is how bad I want to see her face; to see if this has made a dent; if we have possibly passed the threshold of anger and hate.

  “Just leave me alone.”

  She spins around, but this time I obey her request and watch her walk away.

  HOW COULD I JUST WALK away like that? I didn’t even give him a chance! I lie in bed completely still and feel the mattress shift. Turning slightly, I see Abby get up and walk to the door.

  “Where you going?” I whisper, but I already know.

  She lets out a soft laugh and pulls the door open before slipping through. “Go back to bed.” She shuts the door quietly behind her. I really should have just given this bedroom to Hayden and her rather than thinking the girls would stay in here.

  “Skylar,” I whisper shout into the darkness. No response. Hmmm.

  Crushing my head back into the fluffy pillow, soft giggles reach my ears from the front room. I grab up a ball of fabric in my fist and pull the pillow out from under my head, shoving it on top to drown out the noise, or potentially suffocate myself in the process.

  Inhaling a deep relaxing breath, I close my eyes again and try my best not to think of Evan; to not dwell on all the angry words we said earlier. Being mad at each other never used to be one of our strong suits; we woul
d get in friendly little spats when we were younger, but his obnoxious smirk and charming wit would no doubt win me over with just a few smart aleck words he would throw together on a whim.

  My eyes spring open at the sudden whine of the bedroom door, as though someone just came in. I loosen the weight of my hand from pushing the fabric over my ears and listen. Soft footsteps along with the quiet rustling of fabric rise into the air, letting me know Abby is retreating back to bed before things get too out of hand. Chris has been sleeping in the living area too, and Abby had just mentioned earlier how she would prefer not to have an audience when Hayden and her get frisky. Dropping my hand back over the pillow above my head, I resume my comfortable position curled up on my side with my knees bent and my hip, shoulder and head digging into the mattress.

  “Piper, you awake?”

  A wave of nausea rolls through me, making my whole body vibrate and chills to spiral down my spine. I know the voice, but nonetheless I become deadly still, fear of the past, of the unexpected…possibly even the expected…paralyzing me. My tongue knots in my mouth and my throat closes in as a soft touch runs over my hip. Breathe, breathe.

  I suck in…

  and in…

  and in…

  and in again and again, not ever feeling oxygen reach my airways. Breathe, breathe echoes in my mind as if someone is saying those very words to me.

  “Piper…Piper…”

  “Piper…” Trent says in the darkness.

  A smile creeps over my face as I hear him walk across the living room. I turn my head slightly in the direction of his cot which is slid over to the corner of the living room. The lumpy hide-away mattress shifts with his weight and a sudden draft moves over my body as if the covers have been lifted.

  “You awake?”

  My smile drops and I nod slowly as if he can see me. Why is he getting into my bed? Mom and Dad crashed hours ago to the back room. Trent and I shut off the TV a few hours later and went to bed, but as I flicked off the living room lamp he looked perfectly tucked into his sleeping quarters. Maybe he had a dream?

  “Hey…” he softly says, placing a hand under the covers along my hip.

  I tense up and take in a huge gulp of air, baffled and suddenly scared. His hand drops and the mattress shifts, instantly allowing me to let out the breath I was holding and relax my whole body. I move my head to the side, not enough for him to notice, I hope, but curious at the muffled sound that I now hear only inches away; a tearing like paper being ripped. I stop any movement, clueless but still knowing he is beside me. A strong plastic-sort-of-smell reaches my nostrils and I’m even more baffled. Why is he in my bed? Something about it all doesn’t seem appropriate, making my insides flip and spin in panic.

  The mattress moves beneath me, jostling about until his hand lands gently along my hip again with his body pressed against my back. He pushes his stomach and chest against me harder, aligning himself with me and I freeze, noticing things I shouldn’t. My chest pulses in and out with each breath as I fear what is happening. Do I get up and run? Do I scream? Do I ask him what he’s doing?

  “Hey…you awake?” he says in his soft sweet voice that he usually uses when he talks to me as if I am just a kid and so much younger than him, when I’m only three years beneath him in school.

  “I’m sleeping.” I squeak out, my entire body reeled so tight in terror.

  His hand moves slowly from my barely developed hips to my legs and forward. I squeeze my eyes shut; not understanding, yet somewhat comprehending what is going on. My eyes seal closed so tight that I fear the tears welling up may have nowhere to go, but they fall anyway, seeping through somehow one after another as pain slices through me and makes me gasp.

  “Shhhh…it’s ok. I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he whispers against my ear through thick, hot breaths that make the skin on my neck clammy and dirty.

  My mind fogs over at his words. You are hurting me. Stop, please stop, but the words are lodged in my mouth, on the tip of my tongue and ready to jump off, but they won’t budge.

  Stop, please stop. My head is on a constant repeat, but all vocabulary I have learned in the past nearly thirteen years of my life are lost. My shoulders shudder and my chest heaves in and out and a strangled cry reaches my ear from under the pillow as I am jostled around. My hands ball into fists and although I want to use them to slap him away and stop him, I’m scared; I don’t know what to do. The fabric drifts away from my face and his head falls against my shoulder. I remain still; so still with all movement from him completely ceased and the unbearable odor of rubber still lingering in the air.

  “I’m so sorry,” his words pierce my eardrums, but I still cannot move, think, feel or comprehend why this happened to me; why he would do this. “I’m so so sorry,” he breathes through a muffled sob. “I shouldn’t have done that…it’s just, I thought that’s what…” the bed shifts beside me as I remain frozen in shock.

  Barely glancing over my shoulder as the blankets tug and shuffle around me, I make out Trent’s shadow settling at the edge of the bed. His head hangs down as quiet sniffles fill the air.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” his voice trembles, matching the vibrations of my own.

  My eyes glaze over, blurring his already barely recognizable silhouette lit only by the presence of a full moon shining through the window in the kitchen. I suck in a strangled breath and drop my head back to the pillow, slowly pulling my knees to my chest. My bikini bottom slides further down on my left hip and the untied strings tickle at my skin. Quickly lowering one hand to pull it up, I grip the fabric in my fist as another stream of tears dampen the pillow.

  Trent gasps as the bed shifts again, making my heart plummet and my breathing go into an overactive frenzy. My head whirls, but I am completely frozen once again except for the rapid motion of my chest, trying to keep up with my quick intakes of air. Is he going to do it again? Fear grips every inch of my body and a strange drowsiness engulfs me. In the already barely lit room, blurred black dots bleed into my vision and a dizziness that feels as if I stood up too fast swarms in my head. My chest sinks in on a breath and another and another, making it impossible to exhale.

  “Piper…”

  Slowly tugging my eyes open, the cool, clammy touch of a hand on my shoulder along with Trent’s whispers, once again way too close for comfort, resigns my efforts of being calm and gentle as a rush of adrenaline kicks in and catapults me to my feet. My tee shirt falls around my body automatically as I spin around to face him. He’s crouched at the edge of the bed again and for the life of me, I cannot place when he moved back beside me. A throbbing sensation drums at the back of my head as I take a huge intake of air.

  “Are you ok?”

  He reaches his hand out towards me and my heart jumps into my throat as I jolt backwards, wrapping my arms around my waist as if they can make me invisible. I wish they could.

  “Oh God, I’m so sorry. Are you…” he whispers with an unusual tone to his voice; compassion or sadness maybe.

  The strings of my swimsuit bottom dangle loose, grazing my thigh and nearly making me jump again. I glance down and quickly grip the hem of my shirt to ensure that I am covered. My suit slides at the other hip, but still stays held up. I lay one hand along that hip to keep it in place, but am too scared to pull the other side up; too afraid that my shirt will rise with the action and force his attention to my body. I look up quickly, panicked that he could grab me, tug me back to the bed or touch me again, but as my eyes land back on him I see that he hasn’t moved. His hand has dropped to the bed along with his gaze.

  My brows knit and my heart grips as I watch him, still unable to speak, unable to piece together anything that has happened, unable and absolutely unwilling to believe any of it. Why? I want to say it; I want to, but my lips have cemented closed and I have no doubt if they could open that I would no longer recognize my own voice.

  “You…” his voice startles me and I grasp my suit and step back as a strangled
sob fills the air.

  I look down quickly, tugging the hem of my shirt down more as if I can make it longer, but I soon realize the cry did not come from me. In fact, no tears fall; I’m in shock, stunned and silent.

  Trent moves and I snap my head up to see him looking right at my face. Shadows from the outside trees dance across his face, and it’s then that I can make out the pain in his expression. The soft playful happiness he usually carries around is gone. It’s replaced with torment and grief, possibly even shame or remorse. I hate him.

  “You passed out I think or fell asleep…”

  This confuses me. My brows dip lower and I snarl my lip, a tightness forming over the bridge of my nose as it crinkles with my glare.

  “A while ago,” he elaborates as if he can read my thoughts. “You were breathing so heavy and fast and then you just stopped. I thought you were dead. I thought maybe I…”

  His hand pulls back up in a stretch to reach for me. I cock my head back and my eyebrows dart up as my eyes widen.

  “Don’t touch me,” I hiss out before I can think.

  He gasps. “I’m sorry. Please,” his words come out in a raspy plea. “I just thought that maybe,” he pauses, looking down in shame.

  He should be ashamed. Venom courses through me and it’s the first time in my life that I’ve felt such a foreign emotion; something so cold and vicious, but it surrounds me, it sinks through my skin and rushes through my veins, filling my heart and mind with one thought. I hate him.

  “I thought that maybe it would feel different…” he looks back up at me and my heart stops. The last thing I want to feel is the pain that is in his voice. “I thought with you, it might feel…”

  I suck in a startled breath and spin around, not wanting to listen; sickened by what he wants to feel or hoped to feel. Flying to the door, I don’t wait, I don’t even grab for my shorts; I just run, grabbing the ties that brush across my leg into my hand so that my suit doesn’t fall to my ankles.