Breathe In (Just Breathe, #1)(4)

I remember vividly the first time I met Jared. Just getting off the train from Newark, New Jersey to union   Square in downtown Los Angeles, California. I was exhausted, frightened and confused thanks to the restless sleep and the more than two-day journey. Not knowing where to go or what to do, I followed the mass of people getting off the train. In the tunnel of the station, I finally stopped, perplexed by which direction to continue. That’s when we met.

Actually, he scared the crap out of me when he said “Hello. I’m Jared. You look like you need some help.”

I grabbed my bike and tried to put some distance between us. He was too close to me, not for being a stranger, but for my recently acquired fear of men.

“Don’t worry, Kitten,” he said comfortingly. “I’m gay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He must have known what I was thinking by the look on my face and was trying to calm and reassure me. Though he didn’t have any glaringly obvious gay traits that are overly embellished in the movies and TV, I honestly believed him. I wouldn’t have know from first hand experience since I hadn’t known anyone who was gay or openly gay prior to meeting him. There just was a look in his face that I couldn’t explain. A look of understanding. I swore I saw myself staring back at me.

He must have seen my expression relax, encouraging him to coax me more by gesturing with his hands as he took a few steps backward away from me through the tunnel to the right. “Come on. Looks like you could use some food. Maybe even some coffee. Do you like coffee?” He paused as his genuine smile grew bigger.

Calmer, I took a step towards him with my bike in tow while shaking my head in response to wanting coffee.

Assuming I was answering his latter question, he confessed, “Coffee’s overrated anyhow. How about some tea instead, then?”

I hesitantly nodded as I slowly stepped towards him.

“Great. Follow me,” he said as he turned his back to me and started walking. Every few steps he would turn his head over his right shoulder to make sure I was still with him and hadn’t run off.

I was at a place in my life where I needed a friend, and for some unknown reason, it was meant to be him. At the time, I didn’t know why, but I was grateful and still am. Since the accident almost three months prior, I’d had no one, until Jared.

Jared was kicked out of the house by his parents when he was eighteen. Apparently, according to Jared, they were God fearing, devout bible readers. That was the only book they read and they read it every day. Jared had come out to them the night of his high school graduation, convinced that they would love and accept him. After all, he was their only son. Unfortunately, his father spat venomous words at him as he tried to strike Jared with his belt. The disturbing thing was that it wasn’t the first time Jared was ever beaten by his father. He had received lashes in the past as a young boy for being foolish or misbehaving, but that night something snapped in Jared. After taking three blows to the body without flinching, he grabbed the belt on the forth swing, ripped it from his father’s hands, and returned the heartless attack on his father. He didn’t say a word, but stopped on the thirteenth smack when Jared’s mother begged him to stop. She didn’t stand up for Jared, ever, and he probably thought to whip her as well, but didn’t. She gave him as much money as they had in the house plus a check made out to cash and pleaded for him to pack his bags and leave. I think she was trying to save both of them.


Jared was almost nineteen when we found each other. He had been living on his own in a small rundown studio apartment on the edges of Chinatown. The only time he would leave his apartment before he met me was to go to work. His demons still haunted him too. We were both lost, but then found that day in the tunnel.

As Jared completes his review of what I have written down for the third quarter’s schedule, I look to him for his thoughts and suggestions. He seems seriously impressed and it takes him a little longer to verbally respond than I’m used to. It must be the early morning hour that is causing Jared’s brain to not fully catch up quite yet.

Glancing at me he says, “Damn. I think this is terrific!” Still with a little bit of shock on his face, “Man, Emma. You’ve surprised me yet again.”

Humbly, I reply with a smile, “Thanks.”

Jared adds in some other pointers to add to the Lesbian - Gay - Bisexual - Transgender, or LGBT, section of the website from some recent comments and questions he’s collected from our social media platforms and his friends.

Sadie gnawing on her bone catches our attention, and Jared becomes excited again.

“I have and idea!” he shouts.

“What?” I question.

“It might sound a little silly . . . at first, that is,” he cautiously replies.

“Just say it. You know I like ideas,” I instruct, prompting him to share his idea.

I’m having trouble understanding his hesitation. Maybe he isn’t completely sure of my mood yet. I’ll have to do some better convincing.

“You’ve done a lot already this morning. I don’t want to add to . . . .”

“Just spit it out,” I politely demand, smiling as I cut him off.

“Ok . . .” he begins, seeming to be more confident now in his decision to bring it up. “We should create a whole section for pets. Mostly dogs to start because of Sadie, but I think we can increase the follower base even more. Sadie would be the face and we write everything from her perspective . . . well, our assumption of her perspective that is . . . what do you think?”