Breathe for Me by Rhonda Helms Read Free Book Online

grip on my imprisoned hand, his thumb sliding down the center of the covered palm.
    I shiver at the sensation, exhaling a shaky breath. “I… Okay.” I can barely think, barely move. I am captured, locked in a state of perfect being. Frozen in one perfect moment.
    â€œRead this,” he says, pressing a folded paper into my hand.
    And then, he’s gone.
    I remain in my spot for a moment, holding on to this feeling. Tucking it safely away in my mind, where I can experience it over and over again for as long as possible. I force myself to take several slow breaths to focus my mind, slip the note into my pocket for when I can read it in privacy. Then I head to my next class, carrying secret thoughts of Dominic with me.

    In the solitude of my patio that evening, I finally dare to open the note Dominic gave me. The rest of the day at school, it sat heavy in my pocket, beckoning me. But I wanted to read it at home, where I could focus and absorb his words without the distraction of people around me.
    I cross my bare legs and drape them over the small ottoman, unfolding the paper. Anticipation freezes the breath in my lungs. I read:
    I want to know you, but
    The armor that shields you
    Holds you in, holds
    Me out
    There is something behind your eyes, an
    Ache of sadness .
    Secrets that want to spill .
    Who are you?
    You are a puzzle, a
    Rhyme, a riddle with
    No answer. But you are here ,
    Just the same .
    At the bottom of the page is a phone number.
    I reread the poem and the phone number several times, memorizing and absorbing his words, letting them saturate me. Of course he’s a poet. I should have recognized a kindred spirit.
    The last sentence of the poem has a sense of promise. A sense of understanding. Does he want me to call him?
    I swallow, carefully fold the poem and slip it into my shorts pocket. The last thing I need is for Sitri to discover it. I should toss the paper. Or even better, burn it. But Dominic opened himself to me without even a promise of me doing the same. I can’t make myself get rid of it.
    So for now, I will keep the poem close, where Sitri can’t get it. I will have something sacred that is just for me.
    I reach for my cell, my hand trembling. Before I can change my mind, I dial the numbers on the paper.
    â€œHello?” a female voice answers.
    My heart smashes against my ribcage. For a split second I worry that I can’t do this. But Samantha’s words from earlier in the day soothe me. She’s right—he’s respecting me, giving me space to take the lead. I can overcome my fear and take this small step.
    â€œHello, is anyone there?” the voice says.
    â€œUm, sorry. Is Dominic home?”
    â€œSure, hold on a sec.” I hear the phone being set down and the person’s voice hollering for him.
    A few seconds later, Dominic answers. “Hello?”
    â€œUm.” I swallow. Talk! “Hi. It’s…it’s me, Isabel.”
    â€œHi. Are you busy right now?”
    I glance at the pile of homework on my desk. Normally I finish Friday’s homework that day, but there’s no reason it can’t wait until tomorrow. “No. Why?”
    â€œMeet me in your courtyard in…” Pause. “Twenty minutes.”
    I can’t help the smile on my face. “What are we doing?”
    He chuckles. “Wouldn’t you rather be surprised?” His voice is husky, and it stirs something inside me.
    â€œOkay,” I reply, a little breathless. “I’ll be there.”
    We hang up. I frantically run to my closet, trying to pick out the most flattering outfit I can find. Nothing satisfies me. Finally I just pick a pale blue top and jeans, then go to the bathroom to apply a little makeup.
    Once done, I slip the note into my pocket, grab my purse and cell phone, and head down the stairs. I force myself to walk slowly, to stay calm and relaxed. This is just a friendly get-together, nothing more.
    According to