Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(73)

"That's awesome, Emily," she praised in her drunken drawl. "I wish I could have seen it." She took a long sip of her wine, keeping her eyes closed for a moment after she'd removed the glass.

"Sorry about this," she gestured to herself. "I didn't have dinner, so it got to me."

I nodded, wanting to take the wine glass out of her hand. Instead, she drained it in two large gulps. I widened my eyes as she tipped her head back, determined to get every last drop.

"I'll take that for you," I offered, holding out my hand.

"Thanks," she smiled, her teeth tinged purple. She handed me the glass and I took it into the kitchen, finding a second empty bottle on the counter. I sighed with a shake of my head and set the glass in the sink.

My phone beeped. Can I come over?

I hesitated, not sure how to tell Evan "no" without it coming across wrong. Trying to get this paper done. See you tomorrow, okay? I looked to the bottle again and pressed Send. I didn't want him to see this. To see her.

Okay, he texted back. I returned the phone to my pocket as I walked back into the living room.

"You must think I'm pathetic," she uttered, her heavy tongue making her words jumbled. She ran her hand across her face, clumsily pushing her hair behind her ear. "That I'm like this over a guy."

"I don't think that," I said calmly. I watched as she breathed in deeply through her nose with her eyes closed, having a hard time forcing them open. "Why don't I help you upstairs to bed?"

"Yeah," she breathed, "getting tired. Should've eaten."

I offered her my hand to help her from the couch. She grabbed onto it and hoisted herself up, swaying slightly. "Whoa, head rush."

I shut everything off―the disappointment, the frustration, the anger―and just focused on getting her up the stairs without wiping out. She crawled into the bed, and I removed her shoes before covering her. She pulled the blankets under her chin and looked up at me guiltily.

"It's not because I like him so much," she offered. "That's not it. I mean I do like him a lot." She took a deep breath, her eyes watering. I swallowed hard, stung by the sadness surfacing in her eyes.



       
         
       
        

"I don't want to be alone." Her lower lip quivered, and she rolled away from me.

Her words punched me in the chest. Her back shook as she began to cry. I bit my lip and hesitated, tempted to touch her, to try to console her. But I quietly walked out the door, shutting it behind me.

My mother's sobs could be heard through the door. Still incapacitated by her words, I slid down the door frame and hugged my knees into my chest. The anger and disappointment were replaced with heartache. Tears slid down my cheeks as I listened to her cry.

I'd done this before. We'd done this before. I spent most of my childhood listening to her cry. Her cries haunted me, still echoing through my head when I tried to sleep that night.

~~~~~

"Are you okay?"

"Huh?" I shook out of my stupor to find my locker door wide open and Sara staring at me.

"You've been staring in your locker for forever and haven't touched anything. What's going on?"

"Didn't sleep much," I replied. My mother's cries were still ringing in my head. Half-forgotten memories pulled at me, the nights of tantrums, full of rage and pain―I used to hide under my covers, shaking. I blinked to force myself back into the bustling halls.

"What else is new?" she grinned, bumping me with her shoulder. "Want to sleep over tonight?"

I opened my mouth to say yes, but I didn't. Jonathan wouldn't be back until tomorrow, and I wasn't so sure it was a good idea to leave my mother home alone.

"How about Saturday?" I offered instead.

"Okay." Sara closed her locker and headed to class. I grabbed my books and went to the computer lab, skipping Political Theory to get my English assignment done. The assignment I never touched last night.

I fought through the rest of the day and faked pleasantries with Analise in Art class, wishing the nail assignment was done already so Evan could take back his place next to me.

"Are you staying for Evan's game tonight?" she asked, bright and eager.

I nodded. I didn't bother to ask if she was staying, because I already knew that answer.

"Maybe we can sit together," she chirped happily.

"Maybe," I forced pleasantly, not looking up from aggressively hammering the nail into place.

Her sunshine and rainbows smile was too bright for my emotional hangover. I was afraid I'd have to squint to look at her, so I kept my head down―making it look like I was concentrating on my work. She let me be for the rest of class.