Out of Breath (Breathing, #3)(9)

So when she told me that my one-night stand could be erased, I wanted to accept her assurance and swallow it whole, letting it salve the guilt like an antacid. But I knew there was no use in trying – everything had begun to crumble the moment she opened that box. My shameful encounter was just one more destructive choice I’d made that couldn’t be undone.





3


New Year, New Experiences


CLASSES FOR THE NEXT QUARTER BEGAN the following week, allowing me to continue into the new year consumed with books, lectures and studying. Everything seemed back to how it had always been. But it really wasn’t the same, and I knew it.

Meg and I drove to school together. Since we were both angling for acceptance into the School of Medicine, we shared several classes, but while she was gearing towards the hospitals, I was seeking refuge in the labs.

Peyton flitted through the house as usual, not knocking when she entered the bathroom or bedrooms. She wasn’t bothered by what she could be potentially walking in on – except with Serena, the only one of us with a boyfriend. Serena had little tolerance for Peyton’s invasion of privacy – not to mention that Peyton annoyed the hell out of her.

‘Okay, listen.’ Peyton approached me while I was in the kitchen making a sandwich before heading to the soccer field with Meg. ‘I know the party a few weeks ago was a bit of a disaster, but I think you should go out with me again. I promise to keep a better eye on you and help you gauge your level of drunkenness.’

I laughed at her absurd proposal. ‘Peyton, the drinking was a one-time thing. I’m all set, thanks.’

‘Em,’ she implored passionately, ‘you had one bad night. It doesn’t mean that you should give up your entire social life. We’re in college. This is the time when we discover who we are … and flirt with our tolerance for alcohol. I swear to you, there is a way to have a few drinks and not end up in some random guy’s bed.’

I whipped around and threw a piece of bread at her. ‘Shut the f*ck up, Peyton.’

She deflected the bread to the floor. ‘Sorry. Really, that was stupid. I’m sorry,’ she grovelled. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’ Before she walked away, she begged, ‘Will you at least think about it?’

‘Fine,’ I responded impatiently, just wanting her to stop. ‘I’ll think about it.’

‘Great! There’s a party this Saturday,’ she chirped, and whipped around before I could object.

‘You’re going to that party at College Green?’ Meg questioned as she rounded the corner, a soccer ball tucked under her arm.

‘I’m not –’

‘You’re going too, right?’ Peyton interjected before I could finish.

‘I guess so.’ Meg shrugged, then looked to me. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll have fun.’

I blew out a defeated breath. ‘Okay,’ I caved.

Peyton produced a triumphant smile, and proceeded to bang on Serena’s door.

‘What?!’ Serena hollered from the other side.

‘Are you going to the party with us on Saturday? Emma’s coming too.’

Serena poked her head out and raised her eyebrows in my direction. ‘You are?’

‘I guess so.’

‘Okay. I’ll go,’ she replied and slammed her door in Peyton’s face.

‘Please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing.’ Peyton scowled at my worn jeans and faded concert T-shirt over a long-sleeved shirt.

‘You want me to go?’

She huffed before returning to the bathroom to finish her make-up while I went downstairs.

When I reached the bottom step, Serena walked through the front door with a paper bag in her arms, wearing form-fitting black pants, a black tank top under a cropped leather jacket, and black combat boots. Her short black pixie hair flipped out stylishly around her powder-white face. Dramatic liner framed her large brown eyes. Serena’s look was more than a style: it was a statement.

She returned from the kitchen with a beer in each hand and offered one to Meg, who was leaning over the coffee table, painting her nails.

‘I’m driving,’ Meg told her with a shake of her head. Serena eyed me and held out the bottle.

‘Umm, I can drive,’ I offered.

‘That’s okay,’ Meg said. ‘I don’t mind. Go ahead if you want to drink. You’re going with us, not just Peyton, so we’ll watch out for you.’

‘Hey!’ Peyton shouted down the stairs in offence.

I contemplated the bottle in Serena’s hand carefully. The first time I drank had nothing to do with the alcohol. And I never wanted to be that drunk again … ever.

‘Okay,’ I agreed, taking the bottle. Meg flipped her eyes to me in surprise. But she went back to painting, trying to appear unfazed by my decision.

Serena acted like we drank together all the time. But then again, Serena was pretty accepting of just about everyone and everything, taking all that came her way without blinking. I’d yet to witness anything that surprised her.

I took a sip and grimaced. Yeah, I didn’t like beer. ‘This tastes horrible.’

Serena grinned. ‘It’s an acquired taste.’

‘Why would anyone want to acquire a taste for something that tastes like ass?’ I scrunched my nose in disgust.