Catch My Breath

by Wendy L. Wilson

  “It was Alyssa!” I belt out, barely believing it myself.

  His eyes bulge out and his throat bobs as he forces his food down.

  “No freaking way! I thought she was in Iowa or somewhere.”

  I correct him, “Indiana,” still wondering the same thing.

  Dropping my burger which I had gripped in my hands so tight that all the toppings slide out onto my plate, I ramble on with all the details of our argument and finish with speculation.

  “I guess she stayed because her dad got sick.” I take a breath and Evan jumps right in.

  “That’s crazy! What are the odds? So what happened? Did you ask her what the hell?” he asks, pounding his fist on the table.

  I shake my head, retracing my words and steps from that morning in my mind. “No … well, I tried to talk to her, but then she yelled at me asking if I told Bethany I loved her, too.” Cocking my head back, I crinkle my eyebrows as anger and bitterness rise into my chest as if I am right back in that moment. What the hell did she mean by that?

  “What?!” Evan bites out.

  “I know. It’s strange. Where does she get off questioning my loyalty to her, when she is the one that ran right back to her ex the second she was away from me.”

  Frustration and anger slowly starts to flare up inside of me, pushing away all enthusiasm and longing I felt for seeing her after three long months.

  “I ended up running after her trying to talk to her, but she seemed ticked off,” I swallow and take another deep breath so I can finish my story and add in the clincher of it all. “As if that wasn’t traumatizing enough, she ran outside while I was chasing her, trying to put my clothes on in the process and there stood her cheating deadbeat boyfriend himself; face … to … face with me, asking if there was a problem.” I go quiet and stare directly across the table, yet seeing the scene from the other morning so clear in my head. I am back in that moment, in a standoff with the one guy that I have every right to give a piece of mind, yet I said nothing.

  “Well did you finally tell them both what bullshit this is or did you at least deck him?” Evan anxiously bounces up in his seat waiting for the rest of the story; a story that I have no more to tell, because I said nothing. Three agonizing months without her and I said nothing. I couldn’t. I felt like a bird that had just gotten their wings clipped. Seeing her with him took everything from me; she was all I wanted and she acted as if she hated me. Why?

  Pressing my lips together, I look down and shake my head.

  “What! You had to say something! What happened then?”

  I look back up, shame creeping over me that I was such a coward.

  “I didn’t say anything. She was pissed off then she left … with him.”

  “So wait, you’ve moped around all summer wondering what happened, you get the chance to ask and you don’t. And of course she was mad … she just found her ex in bed with her roommate,” he states in a tone that says this should all be common knowledge.

  “But I didn’t break up with her, so why would it matter whether I slept with Bethany or not.” I slap my hand across my forehead, bringing my index finger and thumb to my temples in a circling pattern to fend off the impending headache this conversation is going to bring on.

  “Yeah … but what are you doing telling me to fess up everything when it comes to my problems, yet you’re not taking your own advise. Why wouldn’t you have unloaded it all on her? "

  I slouch back in the booth, crossing my arms already on the defense. Wonderful, now we are both in lousy moods.

  "Totally different scenario! She didn't even give me a damn week before she moved on! I was just a cushion for her to get her mind off her boyfriend cheating, either that, or I was a way for her to get revenge. She probably went back home and told her boyfriend all about us just to get back at him then they made up!"

  The more I talk about it the angrier I get. I can't believe I allowed myself to fall in love with a girl who had just gotten out of a one-year relationship the day before. I was worried the whole time that I may have been the rebound guy, but convinced myself that it was real. Damn, it felt real.

  Evan's voice slams me back to reality, "It still doesn't make sense." He draws his brows down in confusion.

  "I know it doesn't! None of it does! I mean I really thought there was something there, otherwise, I would have never told her..."

  Evan interrupts me mid sentence. "No, I mean why wouldn’t you first clear up that you did not sleep with her roommate."

  I stare at him, totally annoyed that he pointed that out. “What?! You’re the one that has been trying to get me to shack up with random girls all summer just for the sake of moving on, and now you think I should explain myself to her when she is all cozied up to a guy that cheated on her, right in front of me?” Leaning down in my seat, I look at the table knowing my next words are going to make me sound like a complete jerk. "In a way, I want her to think I slept with Bethany, because I want her to feel a little of what she has put me through; to think I am with someone else."

  I love her...God, I love her so I should not want to hurt her like that, but if I never meant anything to her, then she probably could care less. My mind flicks to the look on her face after she looked from Bethany to me. I know what I saw; there was definitely pain in her eyes. She looked stunned, more so than the fact that she was seeing me for the first time. Not to mention her words, “Did you tell her you love her, too?” I’m still confused about that. Does she think I wasn’t honest when I said that?

  Evan shakes his head disagreeing with my reasoning.

  "I guess in a way this is me listening to your advice about my dilemma, but I’m going to throw it back at you first … if you love her, you probably need to fight for her, because you really suck when you’re not with her."

  I look at him and laugh. I do suck without her.

  My thoughts toss and tumble around that entire morning once again: the look on her face, the pain in her voice, the tears that welled up in her eyes that I seemed to miss until this moment, her running away, something I do so well when I am hurting. Plus, everything that Bethany told me about Alyssa finding out about her dad. Obviously there is a bigger issue on her plate than me or this other guy.

  I do love her, even after seeing her with him for a second time; I still love her, so it’s time to act like it … to fight for her.

  "I'll do it if you do it?"

  Evan raises his eyebrows and sighs out a small laugh. “You got it.”

  It’s time I get some answers and remind her of what we had.

  “HEY, I’LL CATCH YOU later. I need to do something before I head to work.” I wave over my shoulder as we both exit the café and swing around to the left to the pastry shop that is three doors down.

  “Hey, I forgot to tell you,” Evan calls out as he opens the passenger side of his work truck. Pulling out a large paper bag, he adds, “I was cleaning out my camper while I was at the lake this weekend and I found this.” He holds the bag out towards me. “It’s all the fireworks that we didn’t use this summer. I wasn’t sure if you wanted them or not, but I just loaded a bunch of junk I didn’t need laying around out there and figured I’d give these back to you or Tristan to hang on to.”

  “Yeah, sure. Just take them to the apartment,” I say, turning to dart away. Another idea springs to mind and I pause, mid step. “Wait.”

  Turning on only the balls of my feet, I turn back to Evan as he halts on depositing the bag back into the passenger floor board of the truck. He stares at me blankly, holding the bag between us. My hands clutch onto the crinkled grocery bag that now feels like coarse leather from being crumpled closed for the last several months.

  Pulling it open with one hand while I brace the other palm up, at the bottom of the bag, I reach my hand in and peer down at the maze of fireworks, fountains and rockets that were abandoned after the Fourth. My eyes swiftly land on a small red, white and blue diagonally striped fire cracker. Perfect.

  “Wh
at, you planning on setting off some rockets on that dude’s front lawn? Maybe we could set them up on the lawn to spell out ‘get lost scumbag’,” he says excitedly with an over eager grin painted on his face.

  I shake my head, “Not a bad idea,” I chuckle. “But no … I’ll see you in a bit at the job site.”

  Thirty minutes later, I’m standing back in her apartment, staring at the little white container that I just got from one of the best bakery shops in Rosemore. Mom used to go there and buy us fudge every week when we were younger. They made it right there in front of you on a huge marble slab. I remember how it would melt in your mouth and slide down your tongue, making your taste buds scream for more.

  Flipping the lid up on the container, I stare down at the warm, gooey brownie that I hand-picked just minutes ago. Still holding onto the small firecracker, I squeeze it tighter in hopes of relaying just a bit of what she is to me with this. Last thing I want is for this to come off as some pathetic and lame attempt at winning her back.

  I love her, so of course I want her back, but more over, I want to remind her just how much.

  I want her to know that I heard every word she said when we would talk for hours.

  I also want her to think back to the night I finally found the guts to say I love you, because I have never meant those words more than I did when I said them to her.

  With a deep breath, I push the firecracker into the center of the soft creamy square of chocolate, spongy chunks crumble up around it instantly. The warmth of it reaches my fingertips, as I stare down at it perfectly cradled into the center and think back on the day when she told me about the significance of brownies. I smile, proud that I decided to do this, even if it doesn’t mean the same thing to her. It reminds me of all the notes, cards and flowers that my brothers and I would leave on Mom’s nightstand as she grew sicker, after her legs refused to work anymore. Up until she could no longer work her mouth to even eat, it managed to put a smile on her face, despite the pain of the disease that was ripping her apart.

  Leaving Alyssa’s apartment and heading to work, my shoulders are lighter and my heart is hopeful for the first time in months.

  The day swims by in a current of thoughts, confusion, and frustration, leaving me waking up the next day from a dream that was so vivid that I can still taste her lips on mine. I refuse to only dream about her for the rest of my life. I need to talk to her. No matter how badly the answers may hurt and tear me apart, I have to know what happened. There is no way I imagined what she felt for me; I saw it. The night we finally gave into our desires, I saw it in her eyes and I felt it in every touch. I could see that same look in her eyes Saturday morning; love. Some things are not adding up and I won’t give up until I find out why.

  After my first mid morning class, I stride across campus, anxious to get through the day and figure out a game plan for contacting her. Surely she has the same number and I know where she lives, but the last thing I want to do is ….

  My train of thought comes to a screeching halt as I round the corner of the Music and Arts building. There she is. The air seems to get thicker as my breath catches in my throat. Fumbling for my phone, I stare in disbelief as she sways her hips side-to-side with a black and white wavy patterned backpack slung over her shoulder. My eyes drop down and sweep over her small frame from her tight jeans to her dark purple v-neck sweater that falls just below her waist and clings to her hips. The small scrap of lace that hangs from under her sweater has my mind doing flips and turns with thoughts of what lies beneath.

  Nodding my head, I shove all those thoughts to the back of my mind and quickly type out a vague message to her and hit send.

  She instantly stops, ransacking through her bag until she holds her phone in her hands. I’m still several yards away, but I can see her clearly and the look that crosses her face confuses me; almost angry or hurt. Why would she be hurt over me wanting to talk about this? Hastily shoving the phone back in her bag, she continues in the same direction that she was headed before. I drop my mouth open and let out an exasperated breath, not sure how to take this. What the hell? Really? Raising my phone up to eye level, I scan the text I sent to make sure that there is no way for it to be interpreted wrong.

  Me: Hey, I doubt you still have my number in your phone, but I figured I would give it a shot anyways. I think we should talk, plus I wanted to see if you got my gift?

  How can that be taken wrong? Confused and a little pissed myself, my fingers speed over the keys of my phone, impatient and desperate to get her attention now.

  Me: Ignoring me! Really!? The least you could do is talk to me!

  I hit send, pushing off from the corner of the building where I have been standing. My chest rises as I suck in a deep breath of courage and I stroll towards her, desperately wanting to be able to just walk up to her and throw my arms around her waist like I used to. Why does everything good in my life always have to change?

  As I near her, I see the features of her face shift into a vicious lioness determined to defend her cubs; if I had to go off of how I feel myself, I would say it is her heart she is protecting.

  Out of all the noise and chaos going on around us, my ears zoom in on the thud her phone makes as she recklessly throws it back into her bag, again without responding. With that, my footsteps slow and I’m second guessing confronting her at this moment. She’s a little thing, but by the scornful look on her face, I’m half thinking it’s me she’d like to body slam rather than the phone. Unfortunately my mouth must not have gotten that memo, because without any further thought, words vibrate up my throat and out my mouth before I can stop them.

  “So, I take it you don’t want to talk to me?” My voice comes out in a resentful and defeated tone, so unlike how I used to speak to her.

  Lowering my brows, I shove my hands into my pockets to keep them at my side, because all I want to do right now is to pull her into my arms and erase all the pain and hurt in her eyes. It takes every ounce of will power I have in my body to keep my face drawn into an angry glare, but like her, I have to protect my heart.

  For a brief moment, when her lips part and her sky blue eyes lock with mine, the love that used to shine for me in them flickers by and the entire barrier I’m holding up nearly falters. The frown on my face melts and I draw my eyebrows up in hope that I can get her back; maybe not today, but eventually. It’s only a second, then her arms defensively slide across her chest and the hope that rose within me takes a nose dive into a pit of dread. We’re right back where we were.

  “You really aren’t going to talk to me, after everything that happened between us this summer?” My voice cracks as I attempt to sound stern and unaffected by her, all while my heart is being ripped right out of my chest and crushed into a million pieces.

  Words erupt out of her mouth as if she has been waiting months to throw them at me, “What we shared?! Are you kidding me! As if that meant anything to you! I mean really … how many notches have you put in your belt since I last saw you?!”

  What … the … hell! Did she really just accuse me of being a player? Seriously? My first attempt at whooing her into a night of pleasure lasted all of ten seconds and she thinks I’m a player? I have literally spent three months enduring cold showers and batting off good looking girls that were throwing themselves at me, but I am now finding out I am putting notches on my belt. Does she even know what that phrase means?

  “What is that supposed to mean? And why on earth would you think it didn’t mean …”

  Pieces of the puzzle slowly start to slide together and an understanding for what has happened between us starts to sink in just as ‘sugar and spice’ herself walks up, wedging herself into our conversation. Her bubbly voice takes a back seat as I listen to my own screaming thoughts. She still loves me; she never stopped.

  My eyes flick back to Alyssa who looks at Bethany in utter confusion, but all I can think about is this summer.

  A marathon of thoughts run through my mind, looking back at our
time together at the lake to the morning I woke up to see her face again. Making record time in my thoughts, I go over the conversation Bethany and I had after Alyssa left with pretty-boy. Her dad’s cancer returned and she went back to a guy that treated her like complete crap. Is that a coincidence? Maybe since I had been unable to be there in that moment, it left her needing someone’s comfort; anyone’s comfort when her world was falling apart. This revelation leaves me hopeful and a bit delusional, yet still does not douse the anger and hurt I feel over her letting me go.

  My eyes swing to Bethany as I work to catch up on what they have been talking about.

  “Were you guys discussing your initial meeting or something else?” Bethany asks, looking from Alyssa to me and positioning herself as close to me as possible.

  I decide to stay quiet for now. It’s very clear that Alyssa never told her about me, which I find extremely odd. Honestly, I thought girls told each other everything.

  “I was just apologizing for busting in on you two the other morning.”

  Pushing my eyebrows down into a frown in an effort to resist smiling, I watch as Alyssa uncomfortably shifts and comes up with a bland excuse for our argument. My amusement is quickly snuffed as Bethany’s arm brushes up against mine. I move, trying my best to put a little space between me and her. I’d much rather prefer Alyssa to be the one standing so close. I cast my gaze back to Alyssa, my heart beating harder and louder once her eyes meet mine.

  “Well it sure looked like a heated discussion.”

  I keep my eyes glued on Alyssa, watching for any sign of emotion from the memory of that morning, but I see none, just anger and frustration as she dismisses the conversation and walks away.

  “Sooooo …”

  Bethany’s voice shreds over my nerves like a sharp pair of scissors as I stare longingly at Alyssa, heading towards the parking lot. Bethany’s arm swipes across mine once again, but I cannot even focus on her presence.