A Hard Place to Breathe

by Barbara C. Doyle

  He didn’t say anything.

  I swiped my palms down the soft material of my pajama pants. “Sorry,” I apologized quietly. “I firmly believe that I am the real life version of Jekyll and Hyde.”

  He snorted. “Pretty sure that’s called multiple personality disorder these days,” he responded. “I’m no doc, but I’m pretty sure you don’t have that. You just don’t like talking about…things.”

  I finally looked at him again. It was only a guarded glance, but it melted away when I saw his warm smile.

  Damn him and that smile.

  “And you’re okay with that?” I questioned doubtfully.

  He slid off the counter and walked over to me, keeping a distance. He leaned his hip against the side of the counter and crossed his arms across his chest. The fabric of his sweatshirt sleeves tightened around his biceps.

  “It’s none of my business,” he told me casually.

  He was right. It wasn’t.

  “But,” he added quietly, “I wouldn’t mind making it mine. Someday.”

  My heart sped up a little, taken by surprise.

  “Someday?” I whispered back.

  His dimple appeared again. “We all have our moments, Ashley. I have things I don’t like talking about too. So how about we make a deal?”

  I didn’t do deals, but Ezra was different. He interested me. He made me…feel. I didn’t let anybody make me feel anything.

  “What kind of deal?”

  “You don’t ask about my demons, and I won’t ask about yours.”

  I wasn’t going to lie. The idea that he could possibly have a demon or two to hide was intriguing, but if he was willing to forget about mine, then I would have to suppress my sudden interest in his.

  I held out my hand. “Deal.”

  We shook on it and looked at each other for a long moment.

  Finally he said, “I think this is the beginning of a really great…”

  I waited for him to finish.

  “I’d say friendship, but I think we both want more than just that. Someday.”

  My brow shot up. “Is that our thing now? Planning for someday.”

  We were still holding hands.

  “Yeah,” he answered quietly. “I guess it is.”

  With that, he withdrew his hand. He gave me a wink and then walked out of the apartment, just like that.

  4

  The words in my textbook all blurred together the longer I stared at them. My hand was asleep from leaning on head on it for so long as I tried to study, and after forcing myself to keep at it for another five minutes, I tapped out. I was never much for studying anyway, but I knew my trig test was going to get me if I didn’t at least try.

  Tara looked up from her book when I slammed mine shut. I was all about being dramatic, so I leaned back and sighed loudly, feeling my fried brain pulse with an oncoming headache. Everyone who knew me told me I should have been a theater major, because I was always melodramatic. It didn’t piss me off, because I owned it.

  “Calling it quits?” she asked, putting her pen down.

  I nodded. “I don’t know how you do this all the time. Studying hurts my brain.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You just wish you were with Ezra right now instead of me.”

  I eyed her. We hadn’t talked about Ezra since she got back from her interview last weekend. I told her I appreciated her trying to set me up with him, but I didn’t need her help. And, personally, I didn’t know if anything would even come of it if I did try going for Ezra. We exchanged casual conversations about school and the weather every time we saw each other in the last seven days. It was nothing special, which made me think he wasn’t interested like he was when he stopped by the apartment.

  I hated guys who gave mixed signals.

  “Actually, I’m not.” And I meant it. “I’m glad we’re hanging out. You still owe me a girl’s day.”

  She smiled. “How about tomorrow?”

  “Aren’t you going to be here studying?”

  “I don’t live here, Ash.”

  I gave her the eye.

  She sighed. “Okay, maybe I do. But to answer your question, no. I finished all of my homework for the week already. I’m just studying for an online quiz for Friday, and then I’ll be free.”

  I smiled. “So Applebee’s and a movie?”

  “Of course.”

  I clapped my hands and shoved my books into my backpack. “So what do you want to see? Romance? Horror? Action?”

  “It’s up to you,” she answered, going back to her notes. She bit down on the end of her pen, drifting her eyes on the scribbles on the page.

  I knew she was officially focused, which meant she probably would agree to anything.

  “What about a porno?”

  “Sure,” she agreed, absentmindedly.

  I snickered, and so did two guys who were passing us and overheard my suggestion. One of them, a tall, jock-like blond, winked at me. His friend nudged him with his shoulder and murmured something I couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, they both laughed.

  Then the blond came over to me. He leaned over, putting his hands on the edges of the table, and shot me a lazy boyish smile. I could tell based on his arms that he worked out. He was probably part of one of the sports teams on campus.

  “Hey,” he greeted.

  I saw Tara look up from her notes, her eyes travelling between the two of us.

  I winked at her discretely, and looked back at the hottie with a body. “Hey yourself.”

  “So,” he said, “My buddy and I are having a party at our house tomorrow night. You want to come?”

  I knew he was only interested in asking me so he could get in my pants. Clearly my porno comment made him think I was easy. Did I like a good lay? Sure, like any other woman did. But I was far from easy.

  I batted my eyelashes at him. “I wish I could, but my friend and I already have plans.”

  He looked at Tara for a microsecond before looking back my way. “Bring her. The more the merrier.”

  I knew Tara didn’t like parties, so I wasn’t even going to bother asking if she wanted to. Plus, if I went, I’d be hit on by blond boy. He was cute, definitely my type, but I wasn’t interested.

  I guess I was changing.

  Tara spoke up. “We could ask Blair and Nate to come. Make a night of it.”

  My brow lifted. “You sure?”

  She nodded once. “Blair always says she feels bad that Nate doesn’t go to parties much, and we both want to hang out with her. Seems like the perfect opportunity.”

  She had a point I couldn’t argue with.

  I looked at blondie. “I guess we’ll be there.”

  He grinned, and took Tara’s pen from her. I noticed the small twitch in her eye, but looked at blondie, who extended out my arm and wrote down an address on it. I assumed it was his. He also wrote down a phone number that I had no intention of using.

  He gave the pen back to Tara, who took it with pursed lips. I wanted to laugh at the way she eyed blondie, but I refrained. She hated it when people touched her stuff.

  “Shoot me a text sometime. Maybe we can get to know each other before the party.”

  Get to know each other = have sex.

  I just smiled at him as he walked away with his friend. They were nudging each other and laughing at whatever it was they thought was funny. I doubted it really was.

  I caught Tara looking at me. “Are you really going to hang out with him?”

  I scrunched my nose. “No way. If you really want to go to the party though I’m down. But if you only said that because you think I want to go, we can stay in. We can always have a girl’s day at the apartment and meet up with Blair or something later.”

  She shook her head. “No, I want to. We need to hang out, and a party might be fun. Plus, we haven’t seen Blair and Nate in a little while.”

  I nodded in agreement, but still found it strange that she wanted to go to a party. She just wasn’t the party type, and I li
ked that about her. It was like we balanced each other out because we were practically polar opposites.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she asked after a moment of silence between us.

  “Of course.”

  She paused. “Do you ever regret the choices you make? Do you ever regret not being somebody else?”

  I frowned. “Why are you asking?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip and focused on the pen in her hand. “I feel like I missed out on college because I was too focused on my future. And now college is practically over with, and what do I have? A plan? A possible job that isn’t even set in stone? I don’t have the kind of college memories that you do. I don’t get guys attention like you…”

  “Hey, don’t think like that!” I chided. “Tara, do you realize how much I envy you sometimes?”

  She looked up with her brown eyes wide in shock.

  “Yeah,” I said, leaning forward in my chair. “You have it all figured out, even if nothing is set in stone yet. You’ve always had a game plan, always been organized, and always knew what you wanted. You’ve gone for whatever it is you set your mind to. And me? I party away my college days because I look at college as a way to stall. The real world is approaching fast, and that scares me because then I’ll have to grow up. All of the things I’ve done in college, the parties, the drinking, the guys? They haven’t prepared me for anything I’m going to experience in the real world.”

  Her lips twitched. “But you had fun.”

  I sighed. “I admit that sometimes I have way more fun than I should. But you know what? Those parties never last. Drinking leads to hangovers. And the guys? I know they only look for a hookup and that’s all. Really, that’s all I want too. I never look for something serious, because this part of my life is temporary. So the fun isn’t permanent. And you can’t tell me that you don’t have fun doing the things you do. You always loved classes, projects, and staying in. How many shows have we binge-watched on Netflix? Or how many movie marathons have we had while stuffing our faces with food we shouldn’t be eating? Those moments are my favorite ones. You shouldn’t regret not living life in college the way I do, because that isn’t you.”

  I saw a small smile grow, which made me happy.

  “And, Tara? You can get any guy you wanted if you actually tried. You just need to get your head of your books long enough to see that there are people interested.”

  “There are?”

  I snorted out a laugh. “Duh. You’re gorgeous, bitch. You just don’t see it because you’re too involved in planning every second of your future. And again, there’s nothing wrong with that. But if you wanted to tweak some stuff in order to go out and experience a little of college, I’ll help you. Just don’t pretend to be somebody you’re not. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  “How about this,” I suggested, looking down at the address sprawled across my arm. “We spend tomorrow binging whatever you want, order take out, and get ready for the party. If you still want to go, that is.”

  “I really do,” she promised. “And I promise not to be all depressing and antisocial.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re not either of those things. You’re just picky about who you give your attention to. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

  She just shrugged.

  I could tell that a heavy weight lifted off of her shoulders, but that didn’t necessarily make me feel better. I was a party girl. The kind of girl that just did things spontaneously without much thought of the consequences. Did I love who I was all the time? No. There were choices I made in the past that I wasn’t proud of, but they were in the past. I didn’t tend to ponder on them much.

  I hated that Tara thought she needed to change just because we were different from each other. And something told me that it had to do with the blond that came over and hit on me. I admit, I got hit on a lot. Sometimes I was all for it, and other times I wasn’t. Tara was probably used to things like that happening, but she never seemed to care.

  Not until now.

  And jock boy wasn’t even something I’d wish for in my wildest fantasy, so the idea she’d be upset because of him was beyond me. If it were anybody else, maybe like my blue-eyed beauty, I could understand. After all, Ezra had something that blondie didn’t. He had a personality. Plus, blondie didn’t even tell me his name. Clearly an indication that he was looking for a quick hookup and nothing more.

  I wasn’t stupid. I knew what people said about me around campus. I was the girl that slept around with just about anybody. My reputation got the best of me, and I never once denied the rumors. And, believe me, the rumors were pretty interesting. Some were true, but most of them were exaggerations to make me out to be a bigger slut than I really was. Shit, the amount of guys I slept with could be counted with less than ten fingers. But the rumors made me out to be way more active than that.

  Fuck them though. I spent a majority of my life worried about what everybody thought of me. I tried to be the person people would like, but it never worked out. Who I was now might not be perfect, but nobody was perfect anyway. And I liked the real version of myself now than the one with a stick up her ass.

  Tara was scribbling something down in her notes, back to her usual self. I couldn’t help but smile, because I always knew exactly who she was. But that was the thing about people. You could see the type of person they were on the outside, but in reality, everybody had an internal battle to fight.

  Tara and I were making a mess in the kitchen trying to prepare supper when my phone started going off. When I saw “mom” flash across the screen, I smiled and wiped the flour from my hands off on the dish towel piled on the counter. I tapped the speaker button and greeted her.

  “Hi, sweetie,” she cooed.

  “Hi, Mrs. Morgen,” Tara greeted over the running water that was filling the sink.

  “What are you ladies up to?” Mom asked.

  “We’re making fried chicken,” I answered cheerfully. “Although I think I’m wearing more batter than the chicken breasts.”

  She laughed softly. “Sounds about right.”

  I looked at my shirt, which was coated in white powder from the flour we coated as one of the layers. Somehow, I managed to get an almost perfect handprint on the side of my shirt. I didn’t even remember touching my shirt, but I was talented like that. It was one reason why mom never liked letting me help in the kitchen if we were cooking something messy. I found a way to make a huge mess, and we’d spend more time cleaning up than cooking.

  “So what’s up?” I asked, walking over to the cupboard and grabbing the olive oil out.

  “Your father and I were wondering when you were planning to come home and visit.”

  Huh. They usually never asked.

  Tara seemed to notice the same thing the way we exchanged silent looks. She shrugged and grabbed a pot from under the sink and passed to me. I filled it a third of the way with oil and turned on the burner to let it warm up.

  “I’m not sure,” I finally answered. “Why? Did we have plans that I forgot about?”

  “No, no,” she assured me quickly. Something changed in her voice though. She sounded worried. “I just wanted to talk to you about something. Someone, rather.”

  My jaw clenched as soon as I figured out what this was about. I excused myself to my room, taking my cell off of speaker. I closed my door and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “What happened?” My voice was sharp.

  “He…he was let out.”

  My eye twitched. “How could they let that happen? He was supposed to be in there for at least another two years.”

  She sighed. “Good behavior, I guess. I just wanted to make sure you knew before you found out elsewhere. I’d hate to have you show up and see him around town.”

  Anger poured through me. “He’s sticking around after what he did?”

  “Sweetie, calm down. Where else would he have to go? He has a record now, so moving isn’t going to be easy and find
ing a job will be even harder.”

  My hands were shaking, but not out of fear. I was pissed. I was pissed because the guy who ruined my family’s life was out of jail. The guy who ended my sister’s life was free. He deserved to rot behind bars for the rest of his damn life.

  “Ashley,” Mom called out. “Say something.”

  I clenched my left hand into a tight fist, feeling the sting of my nails digging into my fleshy palms. I didn’t care though, not even if I drew blood. I knew if I didn’t do something to bring me down from the rage that surged through my body, I was going to do something very, very stupid.

  Again.

  But I wasn’t in the mood to remember my biggest mistake.

  I let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “I’m sorry. I know that this has to be really hard for you too. I shouldn’t lose it when you’re being calm.”

  “Believe me, Ash,” she disagreed. “I’m just trying to pretend that everything will be okay. But your father…”

  I frowned. How could I forget to ask about him? He took Bryn’s death worse than any of us. She was his little girl, and that rat bastard took her away from him. From all of us.

  “How is he?”

  “I had to talk him down from murder.”

  I cringed. “Is he better?”

  “I’m pretty sure he won’t go out hunting for Jayce, but he isn’t doing so well right now.”

  I laid back in my bed so I stared at the ceiling. “If you want me to come home, I can. Maybe it’ll make things easier if I’m there for a little while.”

  “You have classes,” she argued. “I don’t want this to interfere with college. I just wanted to let you know. There’s been talk…”

  I closed my eyes. “About?”

  “You’re not going to like it,” she warned as softly as she could. Before I could say anything, she continued, “You know his father has connections at the university. His parents are trying to get him a spot to enroll since he was accepted before the accident.”

  I felt viciously nauseous. “No,” I whispered in an audible voice.

  Her voice was thick with sympathy. “I wish I could do something about it, but I can’t. I’ve already spoken to Mr. Webster about possibly seeing if we could stop his enrollment, but he has every right to attend. Unless Jayce does something to harm you…physically…it isn’t like we could get an order out against him. And even if we did, the campus is big enough where you could avoid each other.”