Breathe into Me by Sara Fawkes Read Free Book Online Page A

my tongue.
    “Where did you live before this?”
    “Oregon.”
    He gave me a bemused look. “So what brought you down to Mississippi?”
    I didn’t answer, lifting a big bite of ice cream and chocolate topping into my mouth. It was a delay tactic as I tried to figure out what to say. “My stepdad died.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    The chocolate turned to ash in my mouth, and I forced myself to swallow. “Yeah,” I murmured, and then waved my spoon around. “It was a surprise when I found out, at his funeral no less, that he wasn’t even my real father.”
    “Damn.”
    I looked up to gauge his reaction, but couldn’t read anything in his face. “My grandma was the one who told me,” I continued, bitterness lacing my words. “I hadn’t even seen her since I was really little, but for some reason she came up for the funeral. Right after she told me this, she let me know my mom was selling the house I grew up in and that we’d be moving into a trailer park down here with her.”
    “Harsh.”
    Everett’s attention was on his ice cream, and I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.
Why was I even telling him this stuff?
I stuffed another bite of ice cream into my mouth, annoyance burning inside my gut. These were things I hadn’t told anybody, because nobody had ever cared to ask.
    So why would he be any different?
    “What was your dad like?”
    “You mean my stepdad.”
    Everett shrugged. “He was the man who raised you, is there a difference?”
    Yes, there was a big difference. “He wasn’t my blood.” I didn’t want to go any deeper with the boy in front of me. I’d laid out enough of my past for one night.
    When Everett said nothing, I thought back to his previous question. I hadn’t wanted to think about Ben St. James for a long time; the memories hurt too much. “My stepdad ran his own machine shop. People would come inside and ask him to make something and he’d whip it up on the lathe or mill.”
    A reluctant smile came to my face as I remembered his perpetually dirty shop. “We had one guy, Jared Jackson, who used to race motorcycles. He always brought burned-up engines to my dad and had him rebuild them, at least two motors per season.”
    I stopped when I realized what I’d said.
My dad
. For a moment, my eyes burned, and I ducked my head, pretending to wipe my mouth as I blinked furiously. “Anyway, yeah. My life story in a nutshell.”
    “Well, you’re tough. I like that.”
    The compliment made me smile. “What about you?”
    Everett shrugged. “I’m boring. My parents have been married forever. Dad’s in business, Mom teaches. Like I said, boring.”
    “But you’re from New York.”
    The moment the words left my lips I wanted to recall them back, but Everett seemed to find my statement amusing. “Trust me, I like it down here a whole lot better. You always know exactly where you stand with a Southerner.”
    He had a point. Down here, you were who you were for everyone to see, for good or for ill. It would be nice to get lost in a crowd, though, a courtesy I was rarely afforded.
    My ice cream was long gone, and I stared forlornly at the cup. The sun was starting to set, and like it or not I needed to get home.
    “How’s the GED thing going?”
    “Meh.” I didn’t know where to start, but felt silly saying that.
    “The offer for help is still open.”
    I sighed and finally met his beautiful blue eyes. They were the color of a warm summer sky; I could easily get lost in them. He was watching me, patiently awaiting my answer. Nothing in his gaze told me what he wanted in return, and I found it difficult to believe he’d give me help just
because
. But I needed it. I’d taken a practice test online and had barely scored enough to pass; the thought of the test itself scared me to death.
    “What could you teach me?”
    “Whatever you need to pass. And if it makes you feel any better, you can always pay me for tutoring you.”
    Surprisingly, that did make me feel