Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(137)

"What?" Sara laughed in disbelief. "You've planned it?"

"Yeah," I admitted, my cheeks reddening. "We have a sex date for the night before prom."

Sara laughed harder. "You two kill me. How in the world can that be romantic, planning to have sex? Where's the lust and passion?"

"You don't know Evan," I spurted without thinking, then turned crimson when Sara's mouth dropped open. "Okay, what movie are we watching?"



I closed my eyes and listened to the rhythm of her breath from the bed next to me, hoping it would lull me to sleep. Sara inhaled and exhaled in long easy breaths. I could predict the next draw of air. But then it stopped. I waited, but she didn't breathe in again.

I opened my eyes and rolled over onto my back, listening intently. I inhaled quickly when the silhouette appeared next to my bed.

"Sara?" I questioned. "Is something wrong?"

She didn't move. Maybe she was sleepwalking. I propped myself up on my elbows, trying to focus on her and asked again, "Sara?"

When my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized it wasn't her. I kicked my legs to remove the blankets, but the more I kicked, the more tangled they became in the bedding. Then I couldn't see. I'd sunk beneath the blankets and everything was dark. I pushed at the sheets but they sucked in tighter around me. Then she gripped my neck.



       
         
       
        

I choked and coughed, trying to pull her hands away, but they were too strong. I kicked and shook my head from side to side to get out from under her claws, but it was no use.

"You don't deserve to live," she grunted.

I grabbed onto her wrists and pried them loose, screaming, "You've already killed me!"

My hands were on my throat when I woke. My breath was heavy and my heart was pounding fiercely. The room was dark and I could hear Sara breathing in the bed next to me. I pulled back the blankets and crept out of the room. Sleep and I weren't going to find each other tonight, and there was no point lying there, staring into the dark.

I had my phone in my trembling hand when I sat on the couch in the rec room. I thought about calling Evan, but I knew it would just be another awkward conversation, and I didn't want to go through that twice in one day.

I clicked on the television and turned down the volume so Sara wouldn't hear it. I started scanning the channels and stopped on an infomercial for a microfiber cloth that claimed to be able to clean a car, computer or boat by just adding water, streak free. I almost laughed out loud. After a minute of being sucked into the enthusiastic sales pitch, I picked up my phone.

"I saw your infomercial," I said as soon as I heard him pick up.

"Just needs water," he replied, a smile in his voice. "Been wondering how you've been sleeping. Thought you might be cured after all."

"Hardly," I responded. "How about you? Been out on any dates lately?"

"Not yet," he chuckled. "Where are you?"

"At Sara's."

"That's good. You're not going back, are you?"

"No," I replied quietly. "I'm not. Some things aren't fixable."

"I thought when I didn't hear from you that he may have made you stop talking to me."

I was puzzled by his assumption. "Evan's away right now. We haven't had a chance to talk yet."

"Oh," Jonathan replied. "Then, should you be talking to me?"

"Yeah, why not? We're friends," I returned, bewildered. "Evan has girls who are friends too. You're not the reason things are off between us anyway."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jonathan asked hesitantly.

"No," I whispered.

After a moment of silence, he asked, "Do you want to hang out again?" Then he added quickly, "No cliffs this time."

I laughed. "Sure. We could do something tomorrow if you want. I have practice in the afternoon, but maybe after that."

"Yeah, I should be home from work by six. How about..." he paused for a moment. "How about we get dinner or something? And I kind of have a something to share." 

"Really?" I replied, intrigued. "Sure, just text me where to meet you."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow." When I hung up, I realized my lips were turned up into a smile and my heart was beating a little faster.





37. Into a Nightmare



"I thought you said you weren't very good," Jonathan teased as we walked out of the pool hall and into the cool drizzly night.

"I'm not," I defended, pulling my hood over my head. "You're just worse than I am."