Out of Breath (Breathing, #3)(2)

‘Looking out for me,’ I finished.

‘Yeah,’ she replied, smiling gently. ‘I don’t want you to be alone. You have a tendency to shut yourself off for days at a time. It’s not good. I’ll still call you every day, of course. But I hate not being close … in case you …’ Sara looked down, unable to finish the sentence.

‘Sara, I’m not going to do anything,’ I promised feebly. ‘You don’t have to worry about me.’

‘Yeah. It doesn’t mean I won’t.’





1


Pandora’s Box


‘BONNE ANNéE!’ SARA SHOUTED THROUGH the phone. Music and voices exploded around her, making it difficult to hear her clearly. It could also have been that she was calling from Paris, and the reception wasn’t the best.

‘Happy New Year to you too,’ I replied loudly. ‘Although it’s still last year here for another nine hours.’

‘Well, I’m telling you next year is looking pretty frickin’ fabulous from where I’m standing! This party is insane. Designer drunks,’ she giggled, her own sobriety in question. ‘And I designed my own dress just for tonight.’

‘I’m sure it’s impressive. I wish I could see it.’ I wondered if we really needed to keep yelling to be heard, but she didn’t retreat to anywhere quieter. I sucked it up because I wanted to hear her voice, even in her current giggly mood. I hadn’t heard it enough since she’d started the exchange programme in France in the fall.

She’d spent last summer and every break during our freshman year in California with me. Knowing I was going to see her every few months almost made life bearable. So far, my sophomore year sucked. If it weren’t for my room-mates, I wouldn’t do anything outside of soccer and school.

‘You’re not going to lock yourself in your room like you did last New Year’s Eve, are you?’

‘The door won’t be locked, but I am staying in my room,’ I confirmed. ‘Where’s Jean-Luc?’

‘Getting us a bottle of champagne. I’m sending you a picture of my dress as soon as we hang up.’

‘Hey, Em –’ Meg poked her head in my room, then noticed I was on the phone. ‘Sorry. Is that Sara?’

I nodded.

‘Hi, Sara!’ Meg screamed.

‘Hi, Meg!’ Sara screamed in return.

‘Umm, I think she heard you,’ I told Sara, wiggling a finger in my ringing ear, ‘but now I can’t.’ Meg smiled.

‘Well, I have to go,’ Sara yelled above a roar of laughter. ‘My man and champagne have arrived. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you, Em!’

‘Bye, Sara,’ I replied. God, I missed her. I wasn’t sure if she realized how much. It wasn’t like I told her. But I did. I missed her … a lot.

‘It sounds like she’s having an incredible New Year,’ Meg remarked, sitting down on my bed. ‘I could hear the party all the way across the room.’

‘What time are you leaving?’ I asked, knowing she was meeting up with some friends in San Francisco to celebrate.

‘In an hour. We’re all supposed to go out for dinner before the party.’

My phone chimed, and an image of Sara filled my screen. She looked stunning, of course, in a shimmery dark green sleeveless dress that had a twenties flapper-girl flair, her shoulders dramatically exposed before it swept up into a high collar. Her wavy red hair was twisted back at the nape of her neck. She was puckering her shiny red lips, her eyes smouldering as Jean-Luc kissed her on the cheek while clutching a bottle of champagne.

I shared the picture with Meg. ‘Sexy. Did she design that dress?’

‘Yup,’ I replied.

‘That’s incredible.’

‘Agreed.’

I placed the phone on my desk next to my laptop as Meg asked, ‘Do you mind if I borrow your black boots?’

‘Go for it.’ I turned back towards my screen to continue downloading the required reading for the next quarter. ‘They’re in the box under my bed.’

‘You can still change your mind and come with me,’ Meg offered. I could hear the box sliding along the carpet.

‘Thanks, but I’m all set,’ I told her. ‘I’m not really a New Year’s fan.’ I tried to keep my tone flat, not allowing the reasons why to reflect in my voice. The last time I’d celebrated, the year had held promises of happiness and a future I wanted to be a part of. Now, it was just another page torn from the calendar.

‘Em, I’m begging you one more time. Please, please, please go with me tonight,’ Peyton grovelled from my doorframe. ‘I really don’t want to go with Brook. You never go out with me and it’s New Year’s. Make an exception this one time!’

I spun around in my chair to decline for the thousandth time. Before I could utter a word, her eyes lit up, with her attention direction towards Meg. ‘Ooh, what’s that?’

I followed her inquisitive expression as she walked into the room. Meg had just removed the cover to the box that was set on my bed. The wrong box. A vapour of memories and unfathomable heartache was released into the room as the box opened. I couldn’t breathe.

Meg ripped the white T-shirt with the blue handprints out of Peyton’s hands as she held it up.