"Yes," I responded, finally finding a reason to smile for the first time all day. "That sounds perfect." It was still all about waiting for Friday―for my date with Evan, and for Jonathan to come home to... tell my mother he was moving to California. But I refused to think about that part. I would deal with the repercussions of his talk with her after my date with Evan.
I kept Jill and Sara in between Analise and me during Evan's game. But it was hard to ignore her gleeful yelps whenever he'd block a shot or rebound the ball. Sara cocked her head toward Analise after a particularly enthusiastic round of cheering. She looked to me, about to say something, but I shook my head with a roll of my eyes. Sara laughed, reading my thoughts without a word.
"Are you coming with us for pizza?" Analise asked me as we made our way down the bleachers.
"I have practice," I told her, not thrilled that she was a part of the "we" Evan mentioned.
"Don't worry, I'll be there," Sara gushed in return, her smile a little too forced.
"Oh," Analise replied, her joy faltering slightly, "great."
Sara turned to me behind Analise's back with a wide mimicking smile, "Great."
I laughed and swatted her arm, "Don't be mean."
"Yeah, you're right." She groaned like it was difficult. "I'll be nice, I promise."
Sara was the easiest person in the world to get along with, and most people loved her instantly. But if she didn't like you... she could be vicious. She and I both knew that there was nothing particularly unlikable about Analise, but for some reason, we both found ourselves not exactly fond of her. I was actually kind of relieved that I wasn't the only one to harbor these inexplicable feelings toward the spritely girl who was eternally smiling.
"Evan, you were amazing," Analise praised merrily.
"Thanks," he responded. Finding me behind her, his eyes locked with mine. I squeezed by her and kissed him on the lips, despite the sweat that pressed against my cheeks. He exhaled slowly when I pulled away, "Thanks," he grinned, squeezing my hand.
"I should get ready for practice," I told him. "See you tomorrow?"
"I'll wait for you in the lobby," Analise told him, interrupting us.
"Okay, sure," Evan responded, glancing at her quickly. "I'll be a few minutes, but I'll find you."
I looked from Analise's blonde curls to Evan.
"I drove her," Evan explained, noticing the confusion on my face. I could only nod, afraid of what might spew out of my mouth if I opened it. He leaned down and kissed me again, "I'll see you tomorrow."
When I walked toward the locker room, my phone beeped.
Pathetic me going out with the girls after work. So so sorry about last night. Jonathan's back tomorrow―Yay! Promise to be good tonight!
Yup. Friday couldn't come fast enough.
20. No Such Thing as "Normal"
Nothing was going to keep me from enjoying every second of our date―nothing. Not Analise and her adorableness, or the fact that she had to sit next to Evan throughout my entire game―yes, I'd noticed. Not the fact that I hadn’t slept last night because I stayed up listening for my mother to come home. And when she finally did, she was staggering and giddy. And not even the fact that I was running late because I left my lights on in the parking lot and Jill had to jump start my car. I was determined to have an amazing night.
I jiggled my key free from the front door and slammed it behind me, barely noticing as I raced up that my mother had left the lights on at the top of the stairs. I flipped off my sneakers and flung them across my room, peeled off my socks and left them on the floor, then threw my sweaty game jersey in the hamper. I was struck with déjà vu―recognizing how similar this felt to the night Evan took me to the concert. All that was missing was Jonathan walking through the door unexpectedly.
I ran to the bathroom in my shorts and a sports bra, pushing open the door and shutting it behind me in one swift motion. And then I stopped in my tracks. Irony punching me in the face…
"Hey?" Jonathan stood in front of me gripping the waistband of his running pants, his dark brown eyes staring at me in shock.
"Uh, sorry," I gaped, instinctively crossing my arms over my chest as I stood immobilized in front of the door. Sweat ran down the side of his face, along the tendons of his thick neck and over the grooves of his broad shoulders and sculpted chest. His face was still flushed and his sweaty t-shirt was crumpled on the bathroom floor. I clamped my mouth shut―it had inadvertently flopped open. "I didn't know you were here."
I quickly turned around and gripped the handle of the door. I had started to open it when Evan called out, "Em? I'm here."
I clicked the door shut. "Shit," I said through clenched teeth, banging my forehead against the frame. "Uh, I'm running late," I hollered through the door. "I'll be down in a little bit."
"Okay," he responded.
I breathed with my head still pressed against the wood, trying to figure out what to do.
"Wow," Jonathan breathed behind me, "this is awkward."
I spun around and glared at him. "You think?"
"So... you have a date?" he asked casually like we weren't standing in front of each other half naked and sweaty.
"Jonathan!" I scolded with wide eyes. "What am I supposed to do? How do I explain you coming out of the bathroom while I'm supposed to be taking a shower?!" I was on the verge of hyperventilating.
"It's okay," Jonathan soothed. But his comical expression lingered. "Just take a shower."
"What?!" I snapped, a little too loudly, then covered my mouth with my hand and listened, praying my voice hadn't carried downstairs. I heard the squeak of the front door and the rattling of the glass when it closed.
"Evan?" my mother acknowledged. "How are you? Where's Emily?"
My eyes couldn't stretch any wider without popping out of my head. Jonathan let out a small laugh, and my mouth dropped open in disbelief.
"She's taking a shower," he told her. "I guess she got held up after the game and she’s running late."
"Emily!" my mother bellowed, the creaks of the stairs drawing closer. "Are you almost done?"
The handle jiggled, and the door started to push open. I thrust my back against it, slamming it in her face.
"Hey!" she cried out.
"Sorry," I grimaced, latching the door so she couldn't open it. "I'm about to get in the shower. Do you need to get in here?"
"I can wait," she told me. "Have you seen Jonathan? He was supposed to be here by now."
I stared across from me as he pressed his mouth into a smile to keep from laughing. I was so annoyed I wanted to throw something at him.
"Uh, no," I replied, "but I didn't really look for him either."
Jonathan couldn't hold back and let out a constrained, breathy laugh.
"Stop!" I mouthed, my brows pulled together in warning. He only smiled wider.
"Okay, well, Evan's waiting for you."
"I know. I'll hurry." I closed my eyes and shook my head, knowing I had no choice. When I heard her walk away, I whispered, "Fine. I'll take a shower, but you have to stand by the door."
"Don't worry," he smirked, "I won't peek."
"Funny," I snapped sarcastically. "We have to switch spots so I can get to the shower. Please don't make this any more awkward than it already is."
In order to exchange places in this closet of a bathroom, I had to shimmy past him, pressed between the bathtub and the sink.
I turned my head to the side, inching past him with my stomach sucked in to avoid touching him. I could feel his hot breath on my neck and inhaled the mix of sweat and a crisp cologne that reminded me of the ocean. His slick skin slid across mine, despite my efforts to be as small as possible.
Jonathan chuckled from above me. I tilted my head up, our faces inches apart. "We have to stop meeting like this," he teased. I pulled past him quickly, my heart racing.
I picked up his damp t-shirt and threw it at him, making him laugh even more. I shook my head in exasperation and stepped into the t
ub just as Jonathan turned toward the door. I secured the shower curtain and stripped off the rest of my clothes, my heart beating so fast I was still sweating.
I cracked the curtain enough to drop my damp clothes in front of the toilet before turning on the water. It was the fastest shower of my life―and I'd been forced to take some pretty quick showers. I somehow managed to wash my hair and body at the same time.
When I turned off the water, I peeked out from behind the curtain, but Jonathan was gone. The door was closed but the latch was undone. I took a deep breath and grabbed for the towel.
"Jonathan?" my mother's confused voice trailed up the stairs. "You've been here this whole time?"
Realizing I hadn't brought any clothes in the bathroom with me, I took my mother's bathrobe off the hook on the closet door and secured it around me.
"I was using Emily's computer," he explained calmly. He was a very convincing liar, I almost believed him. "I was on a video chat with the office, so I couldn't get off when you came in. Sorry."
Without listening to whether or not my mother bought his story, I opened the door and scurried to my room, catching a quick glimpse of Jonathan watching me out of the corner of my eye. I thought I noticed him grin. My face continued to radiate heat.
"I'm out of the bathroom," I called behind me, shutting my door.
"I'm going to take a shower, okay? I didn't get to after my run," I heard Jonathan tell her from outside my room.
I plugged in my hair dryer and let the hum block it all out―the lying, the hint of suspicion in my mother's tone, the racing beat of my heart that hadn't quite recovered from being stuck in the bathroom with Jonathan.
I could hear music playing downstairs when I turned off the hair dryer, and the water was running in the bathroom. I gathered my hair and pinned it into a bun at the nape of my neck―the only design of Sara's I was able to replicate fairly well. I retrieved the dress from the back of my closet and removed the plastic cover with a smile. I knew this was going to be perfect for our normal date.
I took a deep breath, inspecting myself once more in the full length mirror, swishing the hemline of the red empire dress as I turned side to side. I tried to find the calm that would return the shade of my skin to its natural tone. As long as I didn't see Jonathan before we left, I thought I should be okay.
I finally emerged from my room, somewhat composed. I could hear Evan and my mother talking in the living room where the music was playing. From the sounds of it, she was providing her own version of Storytellers, with animated tales of the bands she'd seen and the insanity that had ensued.
The skirt of the dress brushed against my thighs as my hand slid along the railing. Hearing my footsteps, Evan stepped into the foyer. His eyes lit up, calming me instantly. Then I heard the sound of the door opening behind me. I refused to turn back, fearful of being enveloped in flames.
"You look so beautiful, Emily," my mother sung with a smile on her face.
"Yeah," trickled through the air, barely audible. I'd expected it to come from Evan, but the word drifted down the stairs, and I almost faltered on a step.
Evan reached out, prepared to catch me, but I steadied myself again and offered an embarrassed smile. "Still not the best in heels."
"I won't let you fall," Evan promised, taking my hand when I reached the bottom. I smiled, knowing he wouldn't.
"Hello, you," my mother said excitedly as she scrambled up the stairs toward Jonathan. My cue to get my jacket.
Evan helped put it on, and when I turned to say good-bye, my mother had both arms around Jonathan, holding him tightly like he might float away. He stood, watching us, with his arm casually draped over her shoulders.
"Bye," we both offered. I turned and was out the door before they could respond. I heard my mother say, "Have fun," before Evan shut the door.
“That’s one of my favorite things,” Evan said out of nowhere, backing out of the driveway.
“What’s that?” I questioned, my thoughts replaying my mother’s giddy excitement and Jonathan’s ambivalence. I couldn't help but be worried for her. I fought my way back into the car, with Evan.
“Watching you come down the stairs.” Evan rested his hand on mine, thrusting my heart to life in a whirling flutter.
We drove to a restaurant a few towns over along the waterfront. I practically floated in, tethered by the warmth of Evan's hand. We were seated at a corner table overlooking the water. I was beginning to like "normal dates."
"What happened after the game?" Evan asked after we'd placed our drink orders.
"Oh, I left my lights on and my battery was dead. Jill had to jump start my car. I should have called you to tell you I was late, but I was too focused on getting home to get ready. Sorry about that."
"It's not a problem," Evan assured warmly. "I learned a lot about your mother's concert going experiences while I waited." He let out a quick laugh, but I could only nod―not finding her adventurous life all that amusing, especially when it took place after she'd abandoned me.
The server returned with our drinks and we placed our order. The harmonious notes of a quartet swirled through the air, enveloping the hum of conversation. I could've easily been convinced that we were the only two in the restaurant. The candles’ glow softened the angles of Evan's face and reflected in his eyes. He reached over the table and took my hand, giving it a small squeeze that I felt in my chest.
"You know, I don't know that much about the guys in California," I said, after I was able to form sentences again. "Will you tell me about them?"
Evan smiled at the request. "Sure." He paused for a moment then started with, "Well, there's Brent. He's very... easy to get along with. He thinks he's better with the girls than he is, and always wants the best outcome in every situation.
"Ren is the most laid back guy I've ever met. He lives and breathes surfing, and I'm convinced he'd sleep on the beach on top of his board if he could. He would do anything for anyone, doesn't matter if he knows them or not―if he can help out, he will. I'm lucky to know him.
"Then there's TJ," Evan paused with a smirk, deliberating how to describe him. "He’s a lot to take, but he's always entertaining, and some of the things he gets away with make us laugh for days. But he's still a good friend, regardless of how many times we'd like to throw him in the ocean.
"And that leaves Nate. Nate's my best friend. I trust him with... well, everything. I'd trust him with you if we ever needed to." His eyes connected with mine, and a pang shot through my chest, suddenly realizing what he meant. "That's where we were to going to go. Where we should have gone. His family has a summer place in Santa Barbara that they hardly ever go to, even in the summer. The guys basically take it over after school's out. I'm hoping we can spend at least a week there before you need to be on campus for soccer."
"I'd like that," I replied just as the server set the entrees in front of us. "I wish―"
My words were cut off by, “I will not lower my voice.”
We followed the outburst across the room to find a man in a dark suit arguing with the maître d', who was bent over and speaking lowly to him. The woman across from him darted her eyes around the room in embarrassed apology. She handed the server the check and gathered her purse.
“Come, Roger. It’s time to take me home,” she implored. All movement and conversation ceased, to watch the spectacle.
I turned my back to the couple, empathizing with the woman, who looked like she wanted to crawl under the table. "I guess I'll never understand it," I mused under my breath with a shake of my head.
"What's that?" Evan encouraged.
I lifted my eyes, realizing he'd heard me. "Why people drink, I guess. It just seems to make them stupid. They end up saying something they regret or acting like an idiot. I just don't get it."
"Well, there is such a thing as moderation," Evan offered.
I nodded, recalling seeing Evan drink without acting out of control. "Have you ever been drunk?"
Evan laughe
d. "Yes. I have. And it's not pretty either. I'm sure I've qualified as the idiot a few too many times."
"Really?" I was surprised by his answer. I couldn't even imagine it.
"It doesn't happen very often. I actually haven't been drunk in a while. I don't really like how it makes me feel, especially the next day. Have you ever had a drink?"
I shook my head. I didn't want to recount the sips I'd taken at the parties my mother threw. I was too young to know better, so as far as I was concerned, they didn't count. "Don't think I ever will. Besides I have no desire to have my face splattered across Facebook doing something humiliating. I already get too much attention.”
Evan let out a short laugh.
“What do you want to do on Sunday?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Want to go hiking?” he offered. “It’s not supposed to be cold, and it’s better to go now while there’s still snow, before it gets muddy.”
“Sure,” I responded. Fresh air and the calm of the woods were the perfect escape from everything and everyone in Weslyn. I just needed to survive the next night’s basketball game, alongside my mother, before I could get there. “I'd like that.”
When we returned to Evan’s car after dinner, I offered, "Do you want to go back to my house to watch a movie? I'm pretty sure my mother and Jonathan will be out."
"That sounds perfect," Evan replied.
We stopped at a movie rental machine on our way, and arrived to a dark house as I'd anticipated. Not bothering to change, I just took off my shoes and settled in under Evan's arm. We kept the lights off. The action movie cast a flickering light in the dark room.
Halfway through, we heard a car door shut in the driveway. I glanced at Evan in surprise. "They're back early."
That's when we heard the yelling. I tensed at the sound of my mother's elevated voice, not wanting Evan to see her like this. I could hear Jonathan calling after her.
She rushed through the door. "Then explain it. Go ahead, I want to hear it." She held something in her hand. Evan pulled me closer as my entire body went rigid. "How the fuck did her sweater get in your truck?"
Breathing 02 - Barely Breathing Page 20
