Barely Breathing

“Can we talk?’ she asked lowly, flipping her eyes from the floor up to me. “I mean, if you guys are watching the game, I can come back.”

“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.

"And I'm sorry I called you a bitch," I offered once we stopped laughing.

"Don't worry," she assured me, “I’ll be fine. I’ll snap out of it. This party will help.”

She was about to turn around, but then added, “I hope you know how lucky you are to have Evan. He would give up everything for you. You have no idea. So if you ever do anything to screw it up, I’ll never talk to you again, got it?”

“Uh, yes,” I responded, afraid if I answered differently she’d kick my ass. She smiled, her vibrant smile, instantly mending us.

We joined Jonathan for the fourth quarter. Sara took him up on his beer offer. The volume of the cheering rose to a whole new level with Sara as a spectator, so much so that my mother made a point of shutting her door. We looked at each other guiltily, but were dragged right back into the game moments later.

My mother had to miss two days of work to get over her illness, and right around then Jonathan disappeared, having contracted the flu himself. He stayed at his place as he fought through it. My mother was a bit of a wreck the rest of the week, until that Friday when he finally emerged from the land of the dead―right around the time I was about to enter it.

I spent the weekend at Sara’s to prepare for the party, and to give my mother and Jonathan time to make up for lost… I didn't really want to think about it. It was hard to be all romantic and sentimental when thinking about my mother and her boyfriend―and while hanging torn hearts and blood-dripping arrows.

12. "F" Valentine's Day

“This is a little Goth, don’t you think?” I questioned as Sara heavily lined my lids in black.

“Exactly,” Sara smirked. “Here, just put this on and you’ll be all set.”

“You want me to wear black lipstick? I didn’t realize this was a costume party.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Just put it on. I know you won’t be kissing Evan if your lips are black.” I scowled and grabbed the lipstick from her hand.

I finished getting dressed while Sara was in the bathroom. She hadn’t shown me what she was wearing, and I just about fell off the bed when she emerged from the bathroom.

“How are guys not going to want to grope you dressed like that?” I gawked at Sara’s skintight wet black leather pants and black corset top that accentuated… everything.

“I didn’t say I had to play fair, did I?” Sara grinned, her lips glossed brightly in red. I shook my head, feeling like a henchman to her goddess in my girly black outfit. She handed me a red plastic gun. “Here.”

“And what am I supposed to do with this?” I asked, tilting it in my hand.

“Any contact between a guy and a girl, squirt them,” she instructed.

“Sara, I can’t squirt people with water for touching!”

“Emma, come on―you promised!”

“I’m going to die,” I groaned, plodding down the stairs in my black knee high go-go boots. Sara stayed upstairs to lock everything down, so people couldn’t wander into bedrooms to defy the rules―and be inappropriate on her parents’ bed.

“Is this night over yet?” I grunted upon entering the McKinleys’ entertainment room where Evan was programming the music.

“Wow,” he gaped, eyeing me from head to toe, swallowing hard. “How am I supposed to not touch you dressed like a Goth school girl? Sara’s sick.”

“What?” I balked. "You like this?"

“I’d have to be dead not to think you looked hot,” he grinned, “and even then…”

“Omigod,” I groaned. “Are you kidding me?”

Evan slid his hands around my exposed waist and ran his lips along my neck. My head swirled as I released a defenseless breath. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him back, but I was a prisoner to Sara’s black lipstick. He ran his hand along my stomach and breathed in my ear, making my knees weak.

I needed to escape before I melted. “I think I need to walk away or I’ll throw all Sara’s rules out the window.”

Evan grinned. “Rules end at midnight,” he proclaimed as I entered the kitchen.

“Who says?” I yelled back.

“I do.”

I smiled.

Sara was sick! Unbeknownst to me, she'd put the message out to the girls to dress as vixens, all in black―but neglected to warn the guys. So not only was this a "look but don’t touch" party, but she was playing dirty.

Let’s just say as soon as the guys saw what was waiting for them, there were a lot of refills at the keg. That was the other rule: if you drank, you had to spend the night and your car keys were collected.

The guest list was extensive but exclusive. Cameras and cell phones were banned and collected along with keys. Picture taking was strictly forbidden. Underclassmen were not allowed, although some tried to crash. Evan and Kyle, Jill’s boyfriend from Syracuse, manned the door―filling the bouncer roles perfectly. They broke a lot of freshmen hearts, shutting the door in their faces after the pathetic creatures got a glimpse of what they weren’t going to be a part of.

Jill, Sara, Karen and I were armed with water guns. Casey had one for awhile, but Sara revoked her privileges when she found out she’d filled it with a mixed drink and was squirting it in her mouth.

Jill’s was later handed off to Mandy when she ran her hand along Kyle’s back. Sara told her if she couldn’t obey the rules, then she had no right defending them and proceeded to give her a quick squirt to the gut. I couldn’t help but laugh when Jill truly looked heartbroken at her demotion.

I patrolled as instructed, but everyone was well behaved. Then again, the party had only been going on for an hour. The first floor was open to the party goers, decorated morbidly in dead flowers, crushed chocolate strawberries and set aglow in red―it had taken quite some time to change out the light bulbs.

The entertainment room was set up as the dance floor since it was the largest, most open, space. The television screen was retracted into the ceiling, and the couches that lined the back walls had the cushions removed to keep people from getting lost in the dark to make out. That room remained vacant for the most part, since no one was ready to dance―or they couldn’t figure out how to dance without touching each other.