Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(133)

When she left the room, her sentiment kept floating through my head. I thought of Evan and everything I'd put him through. I began to wonder if I was the one being hurt, or the one doing the hurting.



"I want to call him," I told Sara while sitting in the mall restaurant. She had somehow coaxed me into shopping with her. I must have been completely distracted when I said yes.

"It's only been a day," Sara countered. "Give him some more time."

"I just..." I pushed the fries around on my plate, not eating them. "I want to apologize. He won't even have to say he forgives me. I just need him to know how horrible I feel."

"I'm not so sure that's what he's looking for, Emma."

I knew she was right. An apology was just words. Evan wanted me to trust him, to confide in him. That's all he'd ever wanted. He wanted to be the one I turned to when everything was falling apart. He wanted to be... Jonathan.



       
         
       
        

I had no idea when this happened. When Jonathan became the first person I thought of, the first person I called when everything was miserable and complicated. He was the one I reached out to when I couldn't sleep at night, or couldn't carry Rachel to bed, or when I needed to escape her completely. He knew me in a way that Evan didn't, but in a way that Evan had always wanted to.

"Why does he want to know?" I pondered out loud. "Why does he want to know all the bad things, the things most people pretend not to see? Why does he want to know I hurt, or that my mother's never loved me? It's almost more important to him than knowing I'm safe and happy."

"That's not it at all," Sara countered with a crease between her brows. "Emma, Evan wants to know you and all that makes you, you. The good, the bad and the horrible. He needs to do some fessing up himself and not keep running away when he gets his feelings hurt. But you can't keep him in the dark when everything starts falling apart. You're not protecting him, you know. You're pushing him away."

"I guess I wasn't sure he'd understand," I confessed with a sigh.

"Like Jonathan does?" Sara finished the thought. I nodded. "Give him a chance."

My phone chimed. I looked at the screen and then to Sara with wide eyes.

"Who is it?"

"Rachel," I said, completely stunned. "Should I answer it?" Sara shrugged with a grimace of uncertainty. I missed the call.

She followed up with a text, Where are you?

I showed Sara the text. "She doesn't know you're staying with me?"

"I don't remember if I told her, or she may not remember. But why does she care?"

"I don't know," Sara answered, just as perplexed.

I decided to text back, At Sara's.

I left it at that, and she responded, OK. I shook my head in confusion.

"Okay, enough doom and gloom." Sara stood up. "We're going to check out prom dresses," she declared with a vibrant smile. She observed the dread on my face. "Don't worry. He'll forgive you before prom. Come on. I'll make it fun."

Sara pulled me from my seat. She excitedly led the way through store after store. She picked out the most obnoxious dresses and modeled them for me, determined to make me laugh. And I did. Exactly as she intended.

~~~~~

Sara jumped on the couch, attempting a split in the air while striking the electric guitar. I knelt on the ground, leaning back with the guitar raised above my head, letting the ear splitting sound reverberate through the amp. The song we were supposed to be playing along to blared over the speakers.

Movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention, and I turned to find Anna at the top of the stairs, screaming, "Emma!" 

I stood and removed the guitar strap from around my neck. Sara noticed my change from rock star to worried girl before catching sight of her mom. She hopped down from the couch and shut off the amp and the music.

My ears were still ringing when Anna announced, "Your mom's on my phone." I froze mid-step. "She's worried about you. My phone's downstairs in my room."

I followed Anna downstairs, glancing back at Sara's concerned face before I disappeared. We entered Anna's bedroom, where her suitcase lay open on her bed. She'd been interrupted from packing for the trip that she was leaving for in an hour. The cell phone was next to the suitcase.

Anna picked it up and said, "She's right here," to Rachel before handing it to me. She walked past me, closing the bedroom door behind her.

"Hi," I said cautiously.

"Emily?" Rachel confirmed in relief. "Are you okay? I didn't know you were staying all weekend. I haven't heard from you."