Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(39)

"Seriously?" I stared at her incredulously. She pressed her lips into a small smile. "Let's go upstairs."

I closed the door behind us and sat at the end of my bed, expecting her to sit next to me, but she began pacing.

"Sara, what's wrong with you?" I demanded. "You know you don't have to worry about what to say to me. You never have before."

"But I've never been such a bitch to you before either," she blurted. She stopped pacing, realizing what she'd just confessed. She looked at me and I started to laugh. I knew the honesty would find its way to the surface eventually. She smiled in return.

"What happened?" I asked. Sara sat down next to me. "Did I do something wrong?"

Sara sighed. "No. I just …  I'm an idiot really."

That didn't explain anything. "You're going to need to be more specific."

"I think I was a little jealous of you." She kept her eyes on the floor.

"Of me?" I questioned in disbelief. "That doesn't even make sense." 

Sara took in an audible breath. "I know it's stupid. And it's going to sound even more pathetic when I say it, but I'm jealous of the way you and Evan are together. I mean, I want to find that―that guy who looks at me the way he looks at you. You don't have to even touch; he could seriously be at the other end of the house, but you have that connection―no matter where you are. It's crazy. And I want it."

"Wow," I mouthed, stunned.

"I know. It's so stupid, and selfish, and pathetic. And totally my issue. So I should never have taken it out on you. I'm sorry."

I couldn't form words. I didn't even know what to say. It was unfathomable that Sara McKinley, the girl every guy wished would give him the time of day, the girl who had everything, wanted the one thing that I had. There had to be someone who made her feel …

"But you do," I realized out loud.

"What?" She looked at me like I'd been having a conversation without her, because I pretty much had.

"Sara, you have to give Jared a chance," I urged. "He's the only guy who's ever made you feel truly amazing. I mean, you like him so much you wouldn't even have sex with him."

"Hey." She gave me an offended shove, but a smile emerged on her face. Then it disappeared in the next breath. "Em, I can't. It doesn't make sense."

"Yeah it does," I countered. "Why don't you just try? What do you have to lose?"

"My heart," Sara answered without pause. She took a breath and rested her head on my shoulder. "Do you forgive me?"

"Sara, I just want you to be okay. I'm not sure how to make you feel better, but I'll try."

"I have an idea," she grinned deviously. It was almost like I'd set her up to tell me, "You can help me throw a party next weekend."

"A what?" I questioned, afraid I'd just heard her ask me to help her with a party.

"It will be the best way to take out all of my frustration," she explained with a devilish gleam in her eye. "It'll have a theme and everything."

"I'm afraid to ask."

"It'll be my Love Stinks party," she boasted, like it was the best idea ever. "And it can even have rules."

"Rules?" I questioned in disbelief. "Since when do parties have rules?"

"Mine will," she stated proudly. "Since it's a Love Stinks party, no one will be allowed to touch the opposite sex. So, no hook ups, kissing, or hand holding."

I stared at her with my mouth open. "That's …  cruel."

"Are you going to help me with my party and enforce my rules or what?" Sara demanded with a tilt of her head. "You said you wanted me to feel better. This will make me feel better."

"Torturing everyone else on Valentine's Day?"

"Yes," she smiled smugly.

"Fine," I caved, dreading this already. "How are we going to enforce your rules?"

"I haven't decided yet," she pondered, giving it serious consideration.

"Great. This is going to be ranked the best party of the year."

"It better be," Sara replied seriously. I shot her a skeptical look―she ignored me.

Sara stood up, "Wanna watch the rest of the game?"

I'd almost forgotten we'd left Jonathan in the living room, watching the game by himself. I stood to join her.

Before opening the door she offered, "I'm sorry for kicking your snowman's face in." She was trying to be sincere, but the apology sounded funny and we both couldn't help but laugh.