Barely Breathing by Rebecca Donovan Read Free Book Online Page B

comforter under my chin.
    My phone chimed next to me, and I picked it up to read, Good night. Hope you sleep well in your new room! from Sara. I didn’t respond and clicked off the bedside lamp.
    I stared into the dark, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was here, living with my mother. The windows rattled as a gust of wind howled outside. I closed my eyes, but within minutes they snapped open. The boards creaked on the stairs. I tried to relax, realizing it was just my mother. I followed her footsteps as each board gave beneath her, until she shut the bathroom door.
    I wish I could say that I drifted off to sleep, but it appeared the boards didn't need anyone walking on them to creak. I was restless throughout the night, continually awakened by the groans of the house. The cold air whistled through the rattling panes of the windows, just like the scattered thoughts that whirled through my head.
     

5. People Change
     
    “Good morning,” Evan greeted from the slick walkway. I closed the door behind me, leaving my mother in the shower getting ready for work.
    “Hi,” I replied flatly, adjusting my backpack over my shoulder as I took calculated steps toward his car.
    “You have something against mornings, don’t you?” Evan teased, opening the passenger door. I smirked before kissing him briefly on the lips and ducking into the car.
    “Sorry,” I offered when he closed his door. “I didn’t sleep well. This house is super creaky.” Considering my weariness, I was glad he'd offered to pick me up on our first day back from break.
    “What are you doing after practice tonight? Do you want to come over?”
    “Sure,” I answered automatically, and then quickly countered with, “I can’t.”
    Evan appeared confused.
    “I’m going grocery shopping with my mother,” I explained. "She’s not sure what I eat, so she wants me to go with her."
    "Okay," Evan replied. "How was it after I left last night? You two were pretty funny at dinner―she talks when she's nervous, and you don't say anything."
    "That was torture for you, wasn't it?"
    "I was fine," he chuckled. "I'm pretty sure it was worse for you."
    "I... I don't know what to talk to her about," I confessed.
    "I think you could just let her do all the talking," Evan advised comically.
    I stared out the window in a daze. I didn't realize we had pulled into the school parking lot until the car stopped. A wave of dread consumed me as I watched the students getting out of their cars.
    “I know you don’t want to be here,” Evan acknowledged, reading my thoughts. “But I'm convinced it’ll be different.” I didn’t say anything and got out of the car.
    I used to look forward to coming to school―not for the social benefits, but to escape the oppression at home. After everything that had happened, my safe place had become the place I dreaded most.
    When I started the school year, I kept my head bowed, trying to retract further into my shell―not only in the halls but in the classroom as well. I refused to participate other than to complete the assignments. Sara and Evan eventually gave up trying to encourage me, promising that it wasn't as bad as I thought.
    I stared at the brick building and took a deep breath before closing the car door. I pulled my backpack over my shoulder, preparing myself for the scrutiny. Evan took my hand, its warmth comforting me. Sara was waiting for us by the back door, smiling brightly as usual, and greeting just about everyone passing her by.
    “Good morning,” she beamed. Then her brows dipped into a scowl. “You didn’t sleep well,
    huh?”
    “Wow,” I responded to her bluntness. “Do I look that bad?”
    “No,” Evan countered quickly before Sara could utter the truthful words on the tip of her tongue.
    “Liar,” Sara and I chimed in unison. I met her eyes and we started laughing. The sound of my laughter had the strangest effect, like waking a sleepy village from a curse. All of a sudden I heard,