Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(66)

"People change. I mean you barely know who you are when you enter, and you spend that time figuring out what you want from life, and who you want in it. The next thing you know, the people you always thought would be there, aren't. And the person you thought you could trust with everything, isn't the person you ever knew at all."

His shoulders sank. "And then six years later, you have a fraction of the life you thought you would."

I was quiet. I wanted to say something to distract him from going back there, to the place that bowed his head and caved his chest. But he did it himself.

"I got into USC," he declared with a proud smile, dispersing the emotion with ease.

"You did?! Jonathan, that's so great. Congratulations." I was genuinely happy for him, but then it hit me. "Wait. You haven't told her yet, have you?" I closed my eyes in dread.

"I will," he sighed.

All of a sudden, I felt the air go out of me, like someone just punched me in the stomach.

"Emily, what's wrong?" His voice was heavy with concern.

"He was supposed to know by now," I gasped, unable to catch my breath―consumed by panic. "If he got in... he was supposed to know."

"Evan?" he confirmed. I nodded, my chest squeezing. The entire day was starting to unravel. His needing to leave at lunch. And then right after in Art, the look on his face. He couldn't look at me or even answer my call.

"He didn't get in." I couldn't breathe.

"Emma, don't do this," Jonathan soothed. "Don't start freaking out before you know for sure."

"Easy for you to say," I squeaked, feeling like my world was tipping upside down.

"What if he doesn't get in?" he challenged. I stared at him with huge eyes, like he'd just told me I'd lost everything. I shook my head, denying that it was possible. I couldn't imagine being in California without Evan. I didn't want to even fathom it.

"Wow," Jonathan observed, "this is everything to you, isn't it?"

I sunk back into the couch, trying to ease the pain in my chest.

"Ask him. Don't go crazy thinking about it until you ask him."

I nodded. "Just like you have to tell her that you're leaving." I watched Jonathan's face fall.

"Just not sure how to do it," he admitted glumly. "Her birthday's in a few weeks, and I was hoping to be around for it. Is that bad?"

"So you'd rather break up with her after her birthday?" I clarified, not sure which scenario I preferred.

"It's just that... I'm not ready to go yet." He paused and concluded, "It is bad."

"It's not my call," I told him. "But she should know."

"I know."

"Wait." I narrowed my eyes, suddenly recalling his reference to how different his life was six years later. "How old are you?"

Jonathan cringed guiltily. "How old am I, or how old does Rachel think I am?"

"Oh," I accused with my mouth dropped open, "you lied to her about your age."

"She has a problem with the age difference as it is," he defended with a guilt ridden smirk, "I wasn't about to tell her I'm twenty-four."

"You are bad," I said shaking my head, but unable to keep a scornful face.

"You have no idea," he replied with a wry smile, making us burst out laughing.



       
         
       
        

"Jonathan?" my mother beckoned from the top of the stairs. Guilt quieted our laughter.

She turned on the hall light and came down a few steps, enough to see into the living room. When she saw us on the couch, her face dropped and something flashed across her eyes. I wasn't certain if it was shock or anger, but it was so brief I could've convinced myself I didn't see it at all.

"Couldn't sleep?" she concluded with a sympathetic smile. I wasn't sure who she was talking to. I shook my head.

"I'll be up in a minute," Jonathan told her. She nodded and went back to her room, shutting off the light before closing her door.

"I should go to bed," I said, standing up and folding the blanket.

"I like this," Jonathan said suddenly, before I could walk away, "talking to you. I feel like I can tell you things... things that I usually keep to myself. Most people don't understand."

"I know." I hesitated before turning from him.

It was true. Until that moment I hadn't realized what was happening. I was able to share the demons that wrestled with me in the night, and Jonathan understood in a way that no one else did. He was fighting with them himself, and that had drawn us together.