Breathe With Me (The Breathe Series Book 3) (9 page)

“Would you shut up and listen to me.” My stomach churns, talking to her like that, but she needs to stop, and the only way to do that is a quick jolt. I’ve never spoken to her like this. “I didn’t care about all that. Maybe that is what you saw when you looked in the mirror, but that’s not what I saw…that’s never what I saw. I never gave a damn about all that bullshit, because all I saw was you.” I think for a minute about when I first saw her this summer, how she had colored her hair from the jet black locks that I was used to. How when the sun hit her hair, how it took on a cherry red tone. How her boobs look like they’ve been altered to twice their size. I stop and second think that.
That’s not so bad after all.
“Actually, I think I liked you better with the braces and flat chest. At least you weren’t afraid to let me touch you back then.”

“That’s because I trusted you!” she screams and I just know the entire camp ground heard her. “And look where that got me! The laughing stock of Rosemore High! I had to switch schools because of you or do you not remember that either! I had to move. My parents got divorced.”

I gasp, bringing my hand up to my mouth. I knew she moved and I knew she changed schools, but I’ve never understood it. How could it be because of me? To get away from me, I always assumed, but that always seemed so drastic. Her parent’s getting a divorce is new information, and I desperately need her to explain what I did to contribute to that.

“No, I didn’t know that or well, I knew you left, but I never understood why. Did you hate me that much? Why didn’t you just come scream at me back then or kick me in the nuts or pull my pants down in the cafeteria so everyone could make fun of me?” The corners of my mouth tick with a smile, hoping I can get a laugh out of her; I always could before.

Her voice softens, “I’m tired.” Dropping her hands, she walks past me and my first instinct is to grab her.

My hand rises and, it’s only centimeters away from touching her for the first time in forever, but I drop it to my side and speak, needing to reach her.

“Piper…please. Can we just talk?”

She turns and faces me and all that races through my mind is how bad I want to see her face; to see if this has made a dent; if we have possibly passed the threshold of anger and hate.

“Just leave me alone.”

She spins around, but this time I obey her request and watch her walk away.

HOW COULD I JUST WALK
away like that? I didn’t even give him a chance!
I lie in bed completely still and feel the mattress shift. Turning slightly, I see Abby get up and walk to the door.

“Where you going?” I whisper, but I already know.

She lets out a soft laugh and pulls the door open before slipping through. “Go back to bed.” She shuts the door quietly behind her. I really should have just given this bedroom to Hayden and her rather than thinking the girls would stay in here.

“Skylar,” I whisper shout into the darkness.
No response. Hmmm.

Crushing my head back into the fluffy pillow, soft giggles reach my ears from the front room. I grab up a ball of fabric in my fist and pull the pillow out from under my head, shoving it on top to drown out the noise, or potentially suffocate myself in the process.

Inhaling a deep relaxing breath, I close my eyes again and try my best not to think of Evan; to not dwell on all the angry words we said earlier. Being mad at each other never used to be one of our strong suits; we would get in friendly little spats when we were younger, but his obnoxious smirk and charming wit would no doubt win me over with just a few smart aleck words he would throw together on a whim.

My eyes spring open at the sudden whine of the bedroom door, as though someone just came in. I loosen the weight of my hand from pushing the fabric over my ears and listen. Soft footsteps along with the quiet rustling of fabric rise into the air, letting me know Abby is retreating back to bed before things get too out of hand. Chris has been sleeping in the living area too, and Abby had just mentioned earlier how she would prefer not to have an audience when Hayden and her get frisky. Dropping my hand back over the pillow above my head, I resume my comfortable position curled up on my side with my knees bent and my hip, shoulder and head digging into the mattress.

“Piper, you awake?”

A wave of nausea rolls through me, making my whole body vibrate and chills to spiral down my spine. I know the voice, but nonetheless I become deadly still, fear of the past, of the unexpected…possibly even the expected…paralyzing me. My tongue knots in my mouth and my throat closes in as a soft touch runs over my hip.
Breathe, breathe.

I suck in…

and in…

and in…

and in again and again, not ever feeling oxygen reach my airways.
Breathe, breathe
echoes in my mind as if someone is saying those very words to me.

“Piper…Piper…”

“Piper…” Trent says in the darkness.

A smile creeps over my face as I hear him walk across the living room. I turn my head slightly in the direction of his cot which is slid over to the corner of the living room. The lumpy hide-away mattress shifts with his weight and a sudden draft moves over my body as if the covers have been lifted.

“You awake?”

My smile drops and I nod slowly as if he can see me. Why is he getting into my bed? Mom and Dad crashed hours ago to the back room. Trent and I shut off the TV a few hours later and went to bed, but as I flicked off the living room lamp he looked perfectly tucked into his sleeping quarters. Maybe he had a dream?

“Hey…” he softly says, placing a hand under the covers along my hip.

I tense up and take in a huge gulp of air, baffled and suddenly scared. His hand drops and the mattress shifts, instantly allowing me to let out the breath I was holding and relax my whole body. I move my head to the side, not enough for him to notice, I hope, but curious at the muffled sound that I now hear only inches away; a tearing like paper being ripped. I stop any movement, clueless but still knowing he is beside me. A strong plastic-sort-of-smell reaches my nostrils and I’m even more baffled. Why is he in my bed? Something about it all doesn’t seem appropriate, making my insides flip and spin in panic.

The mattress moves beneath me, jostling about until his hand lands gently along my hip again with his body pressed against my back. He pushes his stomach and chest against me harder, aligning himself with me and I freeze, noticing things I shouldn’t. My chest pulses in and out with each breath as I fear what is happening. Do I get up and run? Do I scream? Do I ask him what he’s doing?

“Hey…you awake?” he says in his soft sweet voice that he usually uses when he talks to me as if I am just a kid and so much younger than him, when I’m only three years beneath him in school.

“I’m sleeping.” I squeak out, my entire body reeled so tight in terror.

His hand moves slowly from my barely developed hips to my legs and forward. I squeeze my eyes shut; not understanding, yet somewhat comprehending what is going on. My eyes seal closed so tight that I fear the tears welling up may have nowhere to go, but they fall anyway, seeping through somehow one after another as pain slices through me and makes me gasp.

“Shhhh…it’s ok. I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he whispers against my ear through thick, hot breaths that make the skin on my neck clammy and dirty.

My mind fogs over at his words. You are hurting me. Stop, please stop, but the words are lodged in my mouth, on the tip of my tongue and ready to jump off, but they won’t budge.

Stop, please stop. My head is on a constant repeat, but all vocabulary I have learned in the past nearly thirteen years of my life are lost. My shoulders shudder and my chest heaves in and out and a strangled cry reaches my ear from under the pillow as I am jostled around. My hands ball into fists and although I want to use them to slap him away and stop him, I’m scared; I don’t know what to do. The fabric drifts away from my face and his head falls against my shoulder. I remain still; so still with all movement from him completely ceased and the unbearable odor of rubber still lingering in the air.

“I’m so sorry,” his words pierce my eardrums, but I still cannot move, think, feel or comprehend why this happened to me; why he would do this. “I’m so so sorry,” he breathes through a muffled sob. “I shouldn’t have done that…it’s just, I thought that’s what…” the bed shifts beside me as I remain frozen in shock.

Barely glancing over my shoulder as the blankets tug and shuffle around me, I make out Trent’s shadow settling at the edge of the bed. His head hangs down as quiet sniffles fill the air.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” his voice trembles, matching the vibrations of my own.

My eyes glaze over, blurring his already barely recognizable silhouette lit only by the presence of a full moon shining through the window in the kitchen. I suck in a strangled breath and drop my head back to the pillow, slowly pulling my knees to my chest. My bikini bottom slides further down on my left hip and the untied strings tickle at my skin. Quickly lowering one hand to pull it up, I grip the fabric in my fist as another stream of tears dampen the pillow.

Trent gasps as the bed shifts again, making my heart plummet and my breathing go into an overactive frenzy. My head whirls, but I am completely frozen once again except for the rapid motion of my chest, trying to keep up with my quick intakes of air. Is he going to do it again? Fear grips every inch of my body and a strange drowsiness engulfs me. In the already barely lit room, blurred black dots bleed into my vision and a dizziness that feels as if I stood up too fast swarms in my head. My chest sinks in on a breath and another and another, making it impossible to exhale.

“Piper…”

Slowly tugging my eyes open, the cool, clammy touch of a hand on my shoulder along with Trent’s whispers, once again way too close for comfort, resigns my efforts of being calm and gentle as a rush of adrenaline kicks in and catapults me to my feet. My tee shirt falls around my body automatically as I spin around to face him. He’s crouched at the edge of the bed again and for the life of me, I cannot place when he moved back beside me. A throbbing sensation drums at the back of my head as I take a huge intake of air.

“Are you ok?”

He reaches his hand out towards me and my heart jumps into my throat as I jolt backwards, wrapping my arms around my waist as if they can make me invisible. I wish they could.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. Are you…” he whispers with an unusual tone to his voice; compassion or sadness maybe.

The strings of my swimsuit bottom dangle loose, grazing my thigh and nearly making me jump again. I glance down and quickly grip the hem of my shirt to ensure that I am covered. My suit slides at the other hip, but still stays held up. I lay one hand along that hip to keep it in place, but am too scared to pull the other side up; too afraid that my shirt will rise with the action and force his attention to my body. I look up quickly, panicked that he could grab me, tug me back to the bed or touch me again, but as my eyes land back on him I see that he hasn’t moved. His hand has dropped to the bed along with his gaze.