Barely Breathing

“No, it’s late,” I said in a rush, taking off my jacket and tossing it on the chair, my face on fire.

“Oh, wait,” she shot out. “You two thought you’d have the room to yourselves. Oh, Em!” She started laughing hysterically.

“Sara,” I scowled. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, it is,” she countered. “For the first time ever, I like a guy and don’t sleep with him. And you were finally about to have sex and didn’t get to. Oh that’s so fucking funny. Em, I’m so sorry.”

I groaned and collapsed next to her on the king sized bed. “This had better not be an indication of how this year’s going to be.”

Sara rested her head on my shoulder and draped her arm across my stomach, “It’s the end of our senior year. Then we're off to college. It's going to be the best year of our lives. Believe me.”

I groaned, not sharing her optimism.

3. Still Loved

“Can we talk about what happened last night?” I asked Sara after leaving the small restaurant where we ate a greasy breakfast with Jared and Evan, surrounded by people who looked like they wished they'd never seen the New Year.

“What? That you were planning on losing your virginity finally, but I screwed it up?”

“No, I’m definitely not talking about that,” I retorted. “You mentioned liking Jared. What happened between you two?”

“I'd rather not talk about it.”

Something was off. Avoiding a conversation about a guy was not like Sara at all.

“I’m confused.”

“Em, he lives in New York. I’m still in high school, forget about the fact that we’re moving to California,” she presented plainly, void of emotion. “I can’t keep torturing myself. I need to forget about him... again.”

I glanced over at her. She kept texting and wouldn’t look at me.

“Thanks for driving,” she said, slipping the phone in her purse. “I’m going to sleep most of the way if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” I responded, concerned by her reaction.

The quiet drive gave me time to think―which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Being trapped in my head for almost three hours could be a bit overwhelming―even scary. But at the end of it, I was content with my internal discussion. Whether moving in with my mother was the right thing to do or not, I was committed to trying.

“Let’s just do nothing today and watch movies,” Sara proposed as we unloaded our bags from the car.

“Sounds perfect.”

Evan had to drive Jared back to school, so it was just Sara and me in front of the television the entire New Year’s Day. I forced myself to get sucked into the sappy romantic comedies and awkward teenage humiliation.

Sara responded to a beeping text. "Em, do you want to go to a party tonight?"

"Yeah, I don't think so," I answered without thinking twice.

"Are you ever going to go to another party again?"

"I don't know," I sighed. "I just don't want to hear it if someone gets too drunk and then asks me the wrong thing. I don't want to be the freak anymore."

"They need to get over it, and so do you," Sara argued. "You can't stay locked away forever because you're afraid someone's going to say the wrong thing. Someone always says the wrong thing eventually, so fuck them. Who cares?"

I grinned, knowing she was right. "Just not tonight, okay?"

"Okay," Sara shrugged. I knew she was disappointed. I hadn't been to a party with her in over six months.

"But why don't you go," I suggested. "I don't want to, but there's no reason you shouldn't."

"Are you sure?" she questioned cautiously.

"Of course," I replied adamantly.

Sara's face lit up. She went back to her phone and began texting the masses to get the details.

Anna hollered up the stairs, “Girls, we’re home. Come down and tell us about the party.”

Sara jumped up and hopped down the stairs. I followed behind, still not accustomed to this family sharing thing that Sara had going on. Anna and Carl were so patient with me, not prying too much. But even the slightest questions about my day caught me off guard―questions that were so very natural to them.

Sara sat in her usual spot, cross-legged on their king sized bed, and I sat down on the edge of the bed, very much a spectator. Anna was unpacking while Carl flipped through the mail. He pulled an envelope from the stack. “Emma, this is for you.”

“Thanks.” I replied, as I took it from his hand.

I examined the plain business envelope with no return address while Sara completely recreated every detail of the evening―from the décor, to Vivian’s award, to the fireworks display.

I was running my finger over the Boca Raton, FL postmark when I heard, “How did Evan react when you told him about Stanford, Emma?”

I flipped my eyes up upon hearing my name. All three were eagerly awaiting my response, making me realize that Sara and I hadn’t talked about it either.

“He’s excited,” I replied awkwardly.

They waited a second longer, and when they recognized that was the extent of my account, Anna said, “I'm looking forward to meeting your mom in the morning."

I nodded, my stomach tensing at the thought.

"Then I thought you, Sara and I might go shopping after."

“Mom, you should know by now that Emma dreads shopping. But I'm in,” Sara answered on my behalf.

Carl looked over at me knowingly and offered, “College football?” I nodded in relief.

“What are you doing tonight?” Anna questioned. “Isn’t Marissa Fleming having a party?” I shouldn’t have been shocked that Anna knew this. She seemed to know the social schedule of just about everyone in town.

Sara's face flashed with excitement, "Yes, and I'm going with the girls."

"What about you, Emma?" Anna asked, hanging a dress in the closet.

"I’m just going to hang out here and read,” I answered feebly.

Sara slid off the bed. "You have to help me pick out something to wear."

Knowing I wouldn’t really have any input in this decision, I answered, “Sure,” anyway.

I saw Sara off to the party, with several assurances that I would be fine. I was then able to redirect my attention to the mysterious envelope, while sitting on the pile of pillows beneath Sara’s floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

I tried to recall if I was expecting something from Florida. It didn’t look official enough for college correspondence; it was simply a plain white envelope with small handwriting addressed to me at the McKinleys’.

When I pulled out the folded paper, my heart stopped. I unfolded it with shaking hands to find it streaked with crayon. On the front was a rudimentarily drawn picture of a boy, a girl, a man, and a woman with grey hair standing by a pink Christmas tree. I opened the paper to find, “Merry Christmas Emma. We miss you!” slanted across the page in a child’s oversized handwriting. The message concluded on the back with, “Love always, Leyla and Jack.”

I stared at the words, tears trailing down my cheeks, and swallowed against the knot in my throat. I took comfort in the large red smiles and the mountain of presents under the festive tree. The man was undeniably George, but I couldn’t figure out who the woman was supposed to be. I wanted to believe it was Carol's mother, Janet, but she didn’t have grey hair.

I dismissed it, thinking it must be a teacher or someone they met in Florida. I guess I knew where they were now―not like I’d ever see them again.

That did it. That sent me over the edge. I collapsed in the pillows and cried until I felt a hand brush against my back and I raised my head in surprise. Anna was kneeling next to me, her eyes glassy as she offered me a comforting smile. She noticed the picture in my hand and settled in next to me.

“They look happy,” she noted, gently tucking my hair behind my ear. “That’s all you ever wanted for them, right?”

It became clear to me that Sara had confided in her mother after everything that happened last May. How could she not? Anna would have insisted on knowing why Sara never came to her, probably feeling betrayed and hurt. So, of course Sara had to tell her that I’d stayed to protect Leyla and Jack from being taken from their parents. Well… at least they still had one of their parents.

“Yes,” I choked, my voice hoarse.

“It was nice that he sent that to you,” she continued to console. “It means the kids still really love you.”

I knew she was trying to take away my pain, but thinking of them missing me tightened my chest, and hot tears flowed freely. Anna pulled me into her arms and hugged me tightly, and I let her without tensing. I inhaled her warm floral fragrance with each gasp of air and allowed myself to miss them.

Once I had control over the pain and was quiet again, Anna released me. I sat up, wiping my wet cheeks.

“I understand why you want to move in with you mother,” Anna finally said. “And I want more than anything for the two of you to find the connection you’ve missed out on over the years. But if for any reason it doesn't work, this is your home first, and we'll always do what's best for you. We're not going to say anything to the social worker, since that will open a whole realm of paperwork that isn't necessary and you'll be eighteen soon. We'll just let her continue to do her periodic check-ins by phone. Okay?”

I nodded, unable to find my voice.

Anna hesitated before adding, “I love you, Emma. We all do. And I am very serious when I say that we will do anything for you; you only need to ask. Do you understand?”

My breath faltered with her emotional declaration, and I replied, “I understand. Thank you.”

Anna’s mouth spread into the smile that Sara inherited, lighting up her kind blue eyes, instantly changing the seriousness of the moment with, “Let’s get some ice cream.”

I couldn’t help but smile in return, and allowed her to help me up from the heap of pillows to follow her down the stairs to the kitchen.

~~~~~

“Is that everything?” Carl asked, examining the backpack and two duffle bags in the back of Anna’s SUV.

“I don’t own much,” I stated.

Anna and Sara got in the car while I turned to Carl. “Thank you for everything.”

“It’s been great having you here, Emma,” he returned, and without notice, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. "I’ll keep in touch with Stanford for you, but I’m sure you’ll be over before I know it.” Then he released me and walked to the house without looking back. I remained still, not quite prepared for the departing hug.

“Ready?” Sara hollered from the open car window.

“Sure,” I answered, heading toward my car.

When I pulled out of the driveway, I glanced up one more time at the large house with a twinge of sadness. Although I never completely felt like I belonged there, I certainly felt safe, which was something I hadn’t experienced very often in my life.

4. "Home"

I tried to pay attention to the roads we turned down as I followed behind Anna in my Honda, knowing I’d need to find my way to Sara’s on my own eventually. At least now I'd finally be able to drive the car that Carl had helped me pick out a few months ago, after I finally got my license. There wasn't any need to drive when Sara and Evan chauffeured me every day. But now I was going to be responsible for getting myself to school.