A Hard Place to Breathe

by Barbara C. Doyle

  Ezra looked at me for a microsecond. Something flashed in his eyes, but I couldn’t tell what. He gave me the smallest grin before looking back at Tara.

  “Something tells me I can handle her.”

  I leaned forward. “I rather like to be handled.”

  Tara sighed. Ezra laughed.

  And me? I just watched as my new adventure stared back at me.

  If I had actually cared about working off my Reese’s, I could have easily gotten the workout from the ten minute walk from campus to the apartment building. Not to mention the three flight walk up the stairs since the elevator was conveniently out of order. Between my glorious fall on the black ice coating the sidewalk outside of the building, and slip up the stairs from the wrong boot attire, I’d say my Friday ended with just enough excitement.

  I pulled my keys out of my coat pocket as I neared my apartment door. Mrs. Meyer was walking from the vending machine to her door, casting me a glare with her wrinkly, evil eyes.

  “Hi, Mrs. Meyer,” I said, waving to be civil.

  Her eyes turned to slits. “Stay away from Fluffy!”

  “I don’t want your stupid cat!” I exclaimed, muttering curse words under my breath. She quickly scurried into her apartment, leaving me staring at the empty hallway.

  What a nut bag.

  I slowly made my way into the warm apartment, kicking off my boots on the mat by the door and tossing my keys onto the bookshelf as I passed it. Tara had left an hour ago and wouldn’t be back until Sunday night, which meant I had the entire apartment to myself for the weekend.

  Usually, I’d find a good party to go to. Some of the frat houses on campus had decent parties, but the cold weather made me extra lazy. All I could think about is changing into my pajamas, ordering a pizza, and snuggling under a pile of blankets. Not to mention I had new shows to binge on Netflix.

  The only decent thing about winter was the show selection to stream. Which meant that my grades were probably going to plummet once the newest season of Supernatural came on.

  The Winchester’s were worth it though.

  My train of thought was interrupted by my cell buzzing in my pocket. When I saw Blair’s name pop up across the screen, I smiled.

  “What’s up, ho?”

  “I see you’re chipper as ever,” she replied. I could hear the smile in her voice.

  “Just another day in paradise,” I said, stripping out of my jeans. I examined the back to see what damage falling had done. With the exception of some mud smeared across the denim, it wouldn’t stain.

  I threw them into the laundry bin and searched my room for my pajama pants.

  “Not a good day of classes?”

  “It’s just…” I sighed. “It’s nothing. Just senior stuff. It’s stupid.”

  “Let me guess,” she pried. “You’re starting to think about what comes after graduation, right?”

  I snorted. “No. Well, maybe. Tara keeps trying to get me to think about jobs and apartments, but we just started the semester. Just because she wants to be prepared by midterms doesn’t mean that I do.”

  Blair was quiet.

  “What?” I grumbled, knowing she had something to say.

  “Well…”

  “You’re going to say she’s right, aren’t you?”

  There was a pause. “We both know that Tara means well. And she’s always wanted to be ahead of things. But don’t you wonder at least a little about what things are going to be like? I mean I didn’t stay in college and it took me a year to pay off the loans that I managed to build up. It’s hard trying to find a job to pay everything.”

  I knew that they were both right, but my mind wasn’t build the way that theirs were. Not anymore. Hell, if I could have a redo I would just drop out like Blair did. She was doing just fine for herself.

  After finding my Olaf pajama pants, I slid them on and listened to Blair tell me about how important planning my future was. I wasn’t interested though. The only decision I needed to make was what toppings I wanted on my pizza.

  “So,” I said, changing the subject. “How is your sexbot doing?”

  She laughed. “My sexbot?”

  “He’s got the face for it, B. Total sex machine.”

  I could picture her blushing.

  “Let’s not talk about my sex life,” was the only thing she said.

  “Well I’d tell you about mine, but I’ve hit a dry spell,” I informed her, sliding off my shirt and putting a tank top on. “There aren’t as many hot guys this semester. It’s a shame.”

  “Is it really all about looks?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not saying that a guy has to be totally jaw-dropping, but there has to be a little attraction there. I mean I’m not going to get with somebody that I’d find more attractive with a paper bag over their face.”

  She giggled. “Okay, I see your point.”

  “You shouldn’t even be talking, missy. You’ve got Nate! He’s panty-wetting hot. You’re so lucky.”

  She sighed lightly. “I really am.”

  I dropped onto my bed. “Don’t rub it in.”

  “You’ll find somebody,” she assured me.

  “I keep hearing people tell me that, yet here I am at five o’clock at night in my pajamas thinking about pizza. I used to be playing beer pong with frat guys in skimpy outfits that made men drool. What is happening to me?”

  “Every party girl needs a night off.”

  I shrugged as if she could see me. “I did meet somebody new the other day. He’s pretty hot.”

  She squealed, making me pull the phone away from my ear. “Details!”

  I smiled. “His name is Ezra and he moved in across the hall from us. I helped him get into his apartment the day he moved in.”

  “Oh-la-la.”

  “Nothing happened,” I told her. “Dry spell, remember? But I saw him again earlier today. Definitely worth the time. Blue eyes that you can swim in, B. Well, not you, because you’re all about Nate. You get my drift though.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?” she asked.

  I thought about it. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “I’ll spare you the ‘if it’s meant to be it’ll happen’ bullshit and just say nothing. I’m not saying there’s a spark between us, but I think there could be.”

  “Well that’s something.”

  I smiled. “Sure is.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  “Well…nothing.”

  “Sounds like you two really hit it off,” she teased.

  “Give it time, B. Maybe he’ll come knocking on my door and ask for a cup of sugar.”

  “Will you give it to him?”

  A dirty thought crossed my mind. “I’d certainly give him something.”

  We both laughed.

  “Well give it time. Who knows what can happen?”

  I agreed.

  “Hey, I got to go. Nate just got back. Talk later?”

  “Sure, B. Tell your sexbot I said hi.”

  She snorted. “Will do, weirdo.”

  “Bye, bitch.”

  I threw my phone onto the couch cushion next to me and logged onto my laptop. It took less than five minutes to order a pizza and checkout online. People wonder why our generation has an obesity problem, but you can order food online while sitting on your couch. Not to mention the food for delivery is always the greasy good stuff rather than the leafy greens. Who wants to order a salad online?

  I texted Tara a good luck message for her interview tomorrow and waited for a reply that never came. Scrolling through Facebook to pass the time, I realized that my Friday night really had changed compared to my junior year. I was always at a party, always flirting, always trying to be picked up. I was the fun girl. But this semester? The pressure that everybody seemed to be under with planning their future made everything less fun. Tara was never around, and neither was Blair. The few other friends I had were off working internships for credit hours or with t
heir boyfriends.

  And me? I was just…alone.

  3

  Before I knew it, over half an hour had passed, and there was a knock at the door. Suddenly drooling at the idea of the pizza behind the door, I practically skipped to open it. I frowned when I saw who was standing behind it.

  “You’re not the pizza guy,” I murmured.

  Ezra chuckled. “You have the strangest ways of greeting a guy.”

  I sighed. “I ordered delivery,” I explained. “It’s a stay in kind of night. Being that it’s all cold and whatnot outside.”

  He just stared and nodded slowly.

  “So…”

  “So…” he mimicked.

  I crossed my arms on my chest. “Is there a reason why you’re here? Did you get locked out of your apartment again?”

  He smiled. “No, I remembered my keys this time.”

  “Okay.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Tara kind of mentioned you’d be alone this weekend.”

  That caught my interest. “Did she now?”

  He shrugged causally. “Something about you might be needing some company. Only if you want it, of course. I was told that I was not to hurt you or else my penis would be at risk.”

  I laughed out loud. I never would have pictured Tara saying that. I guess she was full of surprises.

  “So you came over here because Tara told you to,” I pried suspiciously.

  “No,” he disagreed. “I came over because I wanted to. Tara telling me that you were alone only made it easier to decide to show up. It was a long, strenuous journey after all. Walking a whole two feet and then knocking. Took a lot of energy out of me.”

  That made me laugh. “You remind me of my grandpa.”

  “Well that wasn’t exactly what I was going for,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “I meant the exaggerated story,” I quickly explained. “You know the one where he had to walk uphill both ways to school with wolves nipping at his heels. He’d tell me that whenever I said something that wasn’t really worth complaining about.”

  He looked relieved.

  “Anyway,” I continued slowly, “it’s funny.”

  Before he said anything, the Dominos delivery guy walked up to us. After signing the receipt, I went to pass him a tip but Ezra beat me to it. The delivery guy walked off happy, and I looked at Ezra.

  “Why’d you do that?” I asked.

  The corners of his lips tipped up. “The way I figure, I paid for at least a slice of that pizza. It’s only fair, Ashley.”

  “Is it?” I challenged.

  He just waited for my next response.

  I smiled and stepped aside to let him in. He gave me a wink as he passed me, taking the pizza box from my hand.

  “Hope you like veggie lovers,” I told him, sneaking a peak at his reaction.

  He scrunched his nose, but when he opened the box he grinned at me, pulling out a piece with quite a bit of sausage and bacon bits on it.

  “Was that your attempt at making sure I didn’t take any? Because I tend to eat anything.”

  I rolled my eyes, and grabbed two paper plates out of the cupboard. “Yeah, because that expression made you look like you were really going to enjoy a veggie lovers.”

  He hopped up onto the counter and bit into a piece. He made a noise that should be illegal to make outside of the bedroom. My eyes locked with the expression he made as he savored half of the pizza. It wasn’t a large piece considering I ordered a small pizza, but he made one bite make half the piece disappear.

  I cleared my throat and passed him a plate anyway.

  I put two pieces on my own plate and grabbed two cans of soda out of the fridge. I passed him one, which he took with a smile, and sat down on the stool in front of him. I licked off the grease from my fingers after taking a micro bite of my pizza, not realizing that Ezra was staring at me until I looked up at him.

  “What?”

  He looked down. “Nothing. You just…”

  I waited.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  That took me by surprise. “Um…thanks.”

  He took another bite of his pizza. “Welcome.”

  We ate in silence for a solid minute before I managed to conjure up anything to say.

  “So what’s your major?” It was a dorky question. The kind of question you asked on a pre-date. The basic kind of question that filled in awkward silence while you figured out if you were actually interested in learning about a person. I read in a survey once that you know if you’re willing to date somebody in the first five minutes of meeting them. Or was it about having sex with them? I was never great at remembering that kind of thing.

  I looked over Ezra, contemplating what my answer would be. I’d known him for longer than five minutes, and there was no doubt I was interested. How could I not be? He obviously worked out based on the muscle definition of his arms, and I could tell, even under his black sweatshirt, that he was toned. The fabric somehow clung to all the right places, defining him in ways I could only imagine. His hair, looking wet from a shower, looked like he’d just ran his hands through it before coming over, but somehow the tussled look made him ten times more attractive. If I ever tried that, I’d have hair sticking out every which way like I didn’t know what the hell a comb was. It was almost unfair how attractive he made minimal effort look.

  His eyes were lined with thick, dark lashes, making the color pop even more. Not to mention his tan skin, narrow jawline, and the way his cheek bones were defined, almost pointing toward his full lips.

  He had kissable lips.

  “Ashley?” he asked, snapping me out it.

  I blushed. “Yes?”

  “Thought I lost you for a minute,” he said. “You done undressing me with your eyes? Or do you want another couple of minutes.

  My blush deepened.

  He chuckled. “I don’t mind.”

  I looked at my barely eaten pizza. “So anyway. We were talking about your major.”

  “What were you thinking about?” he pressed.

  “Your lips,” I answered honestly. I had no interest in holding back. I was the girl who said what was on her mind. Sometimes it was a good thing, but usually it didn’t end well.

  His eyes flashed with amusement. “Much more intriguing than my major, which is education by the way.”

  “You want to be a teacher?”

  “Yup,” he said plainly. “But let’s get back to my lips. What about them exactly were you thinking about?”

  I rolled my eyes and took another bite of my pizza.

  “Don’t hold back on me now,” he teased.

  I met his eyes. “I was thinking that they’re kissable.”

  His lips tipped up on one side, giving me a half smirk that made his right dimple pop out.

  “Don’t worry,” I told him, “I won’t act on your totally kissable lips. So back to teaching. What is your focus on?”

  He looked amused, but went with it. “English, actually. I originally wanted to go into history, but there’s something about the written word that I love. Being able to discuss literature with a class seems like a dream job.”

  “So you’re probably adolescent or secondary then, right?”

  His eyebrows drew together. “How’d you guess?”

  I leaned back in my seat. “Well if you’re looking to have an intellectual conversation about a piece of literature with a class, it won’t be with, say, a bunch of first graders. Elementary education doesn’t really focus on whatever subject your concentration is. You have to study a bit of everything. Especially with common core in the curriculum. I mean, even if you get fifth or sixth grade, the most you’d be doing is showing them how to write a proper essay. So if you’re really interested in discussing literature, you’d want to focus in on higher education. Good luck. I never liked being part of a classroom discussion.”

  “Not a literature fan?”

  I shook my head. “I love reading. In fac
t, I’m an English major. I was just a different person in high school than I am now. Shy, which is hard to believe. I looked at school as an obstacle more than an adventure. As much as I loved English class, I never engaged the way I’m sure my teachers would have wanted.”

  “So what changed?”

  I paused. “Life.”

  “That’s vague.”

  I didn’t argue. “Well, I’m not into spilling all my life secrets on the first date.”

  He eyed me. “So this is a date, huh?”

  Even I was surprised at what I’d said. I didn’t date, but I rolled with it.

  “More of a pre-date. I’m not really the type of girl to just invite a guy into my apartment on the first date. I’m not that easy.”

  “You’re something else, you know that?”

  I examined him. “Is that a good thing or bad?”

  He studied me. “Good.”

  I smiled. “Good.”

  I passed him another piece of pizza. He put it on his plate and picked off a piece of pepperoni, plopping it into his mouth.

  “So what do you want to do with your major?” he ended up asking, putting the plate down on the counter next to mine.

  “That’s a good question,” was all I said back.

  “No clue?”

  I shook my head.

  “You don’t like talking about the future do you?”

  I looked at him. “Not really. And I don’t want to talk about the reason, because I don’t have one. So don’t bother wasting your time trying to figure it out.”

  The blue tone of his eyes dulled as he studied my face. I quickly looked away from him, pushing my plate away from me. I slid off of the stool and put the rest of the pizza in the fridge.

  I could feel him watching me, which was exactly why I kept occupying myself by cleaning up. I threw my plate in the trash, along with the pizza that was only nibbled in. Suddenly, I wasn’t really hungry.

  “Ashley, if it’s something I said—”

  “It’s not,” I snapped. I closed my eyes. “You didn’t say anything, okay? I’m just tired of people trying to pry about my plans. It’s been happening a lot lately.”