Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(132)

"What's going on between you two?" she questioned. "Anything I should be worried about?"

"No," I answered simply. "We get along. He understands what I'm going through, that's all."

"What does that mean, what you're going through?" She sounded worried. I suppose I would as well if she said it.

"About Rachel's moods and stuff," I attempted to explain. "We talk. He understands. I mean... he dated Rachel, so he gets it. We've become friends through all of this."

"Okay," Sara contemplated. "I think. Did you explain this to Evan?"

"I didn't get to," I breathed sitting next to her on the bed. "Sara, I totally screwed up. He's so upset with me he wouldn't even see me before he left." The misery of his call stirred in my chest.

"Yeah, I know," she comforted. "He was so freaked when you didn't show up at school yesterday. Then when you didn't answer your phone, I thought he was going to lose it completely. I gave him Rachel's number when he asked, not like she was any help or anything. You really should've called or texted him or something."

"I know," I sulked, feeling ill. "I left my phone in my car. I wish I had called. But I was hoping we'd get to talk, so I could explain. I really never meant to worry him."

"What are you going to do about Rachel?"

I was quiet for a moment. "I can't live with her anymore." My voice cracked slightly, the emotions escaping despite my efforts to bury them.

"I know," Sara agreed, her voice sympathetic. "Want to go to Florida with me this week?"

"I can't," I answered automatically. "I really need to be here for soccer."

"I knew you'd say that, so I talked to my mom and I'm flying down on Thursday with my dad instead of leaving with her on Monday. I want to be here with you."

"Thanks," I smiled faintly. "I want that too." And I did. I needed to be with the one person who wasn't angry with me, and didn't force me to explain every feeling that was coursing through my body. 

"Can you tell me about last night a little bit?" she inquired gently. "It was a little confusing, but you were upset, so I decided to wait."

"Like what?"

"Who's this lawyer, and what did he tell you?"

I recounted my conversation with Charles Stanley and what he had revealed about my parents and my grandparents, and the trust I'd inherited.

"Wow," Sara mused after I was done. "That's crazy. That must be where Leyla and Jack are, huh? In Florida with your grandmother."

"I think so," I replied with a slight nod.

"Em," Sara began cautiously, "you said that you thought your mom may have attempted suicide. Why would you say that?"

I crossed my arms and bowed my head, picturing her on the couch, barely coherent and confessing what no mother should ever admit, no matter how true. Sharpness cut through my chest just thinking about her spouts of disdain.

Somewhere amongst the slur of words she had mentioned not being the one to leave me with Carol and George. She said Sharon left me. She was in the hospital. She took too many pills. I shared this with Sara along with my deduction that she had overdosed.

"Maybe it was an accident," Sara offered.

I shrugged in contemplation, but I doubted it. My mother was so grief stricken by my father's death, I suspected she may have done it on purpose. I recalled my cutting words to her on the porch, and my eyes stung with shame. Regardless of what she didn't feel for me, I should never have said what I did. I was cruel.

Anna called up to us when the pancakes were ready. I followed Sara downstairs, although I didn't feel much like eating.

I could tell by the way Anna looked at me, full of sympathy and concern, that Sara had told her. I couldn't expect Sara to keep anything from her parents after what had happened last year. I wasn't upset, but I wasn't sure I could talk to Anna about it.

But I also knew she wasn't the type of mother to leave it alone. She waited until after breakfast, when Sara was in the shower. I was sitting in the rec room, aimlessly searching the channels. Anna sat next to me on the couch, and I shut off the television. I waited for her to begin.

"Sometimes people hurt more than they can handle," she soothed, observing me. I had a hard time meeting her eyes. "And sometimes they don't know how to ask for help. They're so caught up in their own pain, they end up hurting everyone around them. I wish you didn't keep getting hurt."

I didn't respond, but she knew I wouldn't.

"I know you have commitments here and won't be coming to Florida with us. We'll help you get your things next week when we return." Anna placed her hand over mine. It was warm and soft. I tried to smile, but it never truly formed on my lips.