Just Breathe (Blue #1) (3 page)

“Do you want your phone back, or do you want me to keep it? Nice pictures by the way,” he teases, not giving me a chance to answer either question.

I panic, trying to find out what pictures he’s talking about, but for the life of me, I can’t remember a damn one. My mouth gapes, and Dar lightly pushes my chin with her fingers to close it.

“I do need my phone back, but how did you know it was mine?” I repeat a little frantically and cover my eyes with my arm, still wanting to be able to remember the stupid pictures he’s talking about. At least I can be confident there aren’t any nude ones on there. I’ve never taken any, but Dar and I take silly photos often. I’m too nervous to ask him what he’s seen, so I don’t mention them, hoping by some slight grace he’ll drop the subject.

“Don’t sweat the small stuff, Cricket. That’s it then. You have to come back to The Hot Spot, and I’ll give it to you.” He pauses for a fleeting second and then clears his throat. “Yeah, anytime you want it. I can help you out.” I hear him breathe out heavily, and as I’m about to ask if we’re still talking about the phone, he laughs. “Bring Dartayna along if you want. So, I was thinking around ten tonight. We can hang out, you know? It’s only fair since I saved your phone. I’ll see you then.” He chuckles softly and ends the call.

“I guess I’ll see you then,” I mumble into the dead line.

I keep the phone to my ear long after the call is done, afraid if I disconnect, it will all become true. I really agreed to meet him. Regardless of the cause, it makes my anxiety peak in full force without holding back. My limbs begin to tremble uncontrollably. At the same moment, a warm calm floods my veins, and my breathing is all over the place.
Breathe in…breathe out…breathe in…
The sense of tranquility shields my unpredictable emotions, and my eyes close on their own.

When I reopen them, Dar hovers over me, holding something under my nose that smells horrible. “Dar!” I shriek. “Have you gone completely out of your ever-loving mind?” The questions I really want to ask her are…
Why I am wet? What is that awful scent?
And,
why does my face feel like a million bees took out their fury on my cheek?

She doesn’t answer, and by the way her mouth is hanging wide open makes me think she’s in shock.
That’s it! My best friend has finally gone insane, and I’m about to suffer the consequences.
Her skin color isn’t its normal dark tan. Instead, it resembles the institutional beige that plagues the walls of most waiting areas in hospitals across the US.

In an attempt to rescue myself from whatever she’s about to do, I raise my hips to throw her off, but she doesn’t budge. Accepting she’s here for the long haul, I sigh, giving her a questioning look.

“Cass, you passed out after having a panic attack again. When I realized you were holding your breath, I smacked you, but that didn’t work.” She gives an apologetic glance and cups my cheek in her hand. “Girl, you kinda scared me, so then I slung a glass of cold water on you. Neither of those brought you out of it, so I got my bottle of tequila and held it under your nose.” She gasps for a long breath after finishing her wild explanation.

I let out a loud throaty laugh. “Aw, Dar, I love you, but tequila doesn’t have the same effect as smelling salts. You know that, right?” She sets the bottle onto the nightstand, giving me an awful glare. One thing is for sure; the mysteries I couldn’t figure out earlier are now clear. I know exactly why my face hurts, why I’m wet, and the source of that unforgiving stench that is still swirling around in my nostrils. One of the only smells that can awaken the demons of my past is tequila. It’s what
he
drank.

“Hey, I didn’t know what else to do. One minute you’re talking to Lucas, and then the next, you’re out cold. Desperate times call for drastic measures, my friend. Maybe you should go see a doctor? It can’t be healthy to pass out as often as you do.” She places the back of her hand to my forehead. I shake my head dismissively. Nothing she could say can convince me otherwise. “Fine, be a stubborn ass, but I’m making you go shopping with me. I want to keep an eye on Y.O. U.” She pokes me in the chest, accentuating the last word.

The first time I passed out was several years ago. Dar and I were watching the news when his face flashed across the screen. After I awakened, I learned she had pulled me onto the floor and started fanning my face with her fuzzy house shoe. I felt so horrible. Once I saw her hair, I laughed. It stuck out in every direction, and she looked just like a mad scientist. She rushed me to the hospital, but they said there wasn’t anything to be done, other than put me on anxiety medication. I declined to take the pills, so they sent me on my way. On the ride home, she explained her Einstein hairstyle resulted from her twisting and pulling at the strands, as she was just trying to remain calm.

Having her as a best friend has its pros and cons. I suddenly remember and whine, “Why do we have to go shopping?”

Shopping is definitely not something I enjoy. I hate shopping because of my mom. She referred to shopping as taking me to the liquor store when she ran out of her poison. That factor alone was enough to prevent me from ever becoming a shopaholic. Regardless of the fact that Dar knows all of this, she still drags me along with her when she goes. She wiggles her hips in the air, and a wide smile spreads across her face.

“Because you, my friend, have a hot date tonight, and we’re buying you something to show off these awesome ta-ta’s.” She squeezes my boobs together, perking them up a little bit.

“I most certainly do not have a date tonight!” My nostrils flair, and my voice escalates as I swat her hands away from my chest. “I simply need to get my phone from this lunatic. Even though I can’t prove it, he stole my phone. I hope he didn’t take my mace as well, because I plan on using it if I have to, even if there is another way… Who steals a girl’s phone, and why didn’t he just give it to me last night with my purse? That would have been a great deal easier for both of us.”

“Cass, he’s not that bad. I’ve known him for a long time. I told you last night he’s Johnny’s friend. Plus, y’all are the same age. I wouldn’t worry about using mace on him. Having said all that, I would keep an eye out for Lacey if she’s there tonight. She might not appreciate you going out with her man,” Dar says, winking as she scoots off the bed and pulls my legs down with her.

I rub my hands across my face. “Agh, for the last time…It...Is...Not...A...Date…It’s an agreement,” I scoff while shaking my head. “Why would I have to worry about her, much less spray her with mace?” Sure, Lacey isn’t on my list of favorite people right now, but I don’t see me having to defend myself from her.

She opens her mouth hesitantly and says, “Hmm...about that.” She studies me through her lashes. “Lucas got drunk and fucked Lacey a long, long time ago, and ever since she’s followed him around like a lovesick puppy. It’s been,” she says, counting on her fingers, “five years and she still tries to sink her skanky claws into him.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I just didn’t like explaining that last night in front of her. I was a bit scared she would sabotage our drinks.” She shakes her head in disgust. “She and I were pretty tight at one point in time, but we had a falling out on purpose…on my behalf, anyhow. She was a shitty friend.” Lost in thought, she leans her elbows against the mattress and holds her face in her hands. After a long pause, she leaves me at a loss for words and walks from the room.

Any person intentionally shitty to Dar is immediately on my shit list as well; she means that much to me. She is the first person I met after moving to West Virginia from Pittsburgh. In a way, she saved me without knowing what she had done. I had no place to live, other than my car, and planned on passing through, but she persuaded me to move in with her family.

Since I’m partially out of bed, thanks to Dar, I pad over to my vanity and look at myself in the mirror. My auburn hair is erratically sticking up in multiple directions and needs a good washing. I pull down my lower lids and see streaks of red dancing around my ice-blue irises, giving the impression I’ve been crying, which I haven’t. The light brown freckles are the only things that appear to be unaffected in my reflection. I try smiling to liven up my dimples, but they don’t reach their usual depth. I look like shit this morning, yet this isn’t something new. I rarely get a good night’s rest because of reoccurring night terrors.

Throwing my hands up into the air in defeat, I head toward the bathroom to shower. The tepid water soothes my aching muscles as it runs down my body. Inspecting myself, my breasts are too large for my frame and tiny waist. To top it all off, I have child bearing hips. The figure I have makes most women envious, but it’s become more of a curse, in my opinion.

After seeing the same body for years, one would think I would have accepted being “Big Booty Judy”. That was the name the kids called me when I was younger. Now, I have a hard time believing I was bothered by that name, but when I was fourteen, I would cry every time those heartless little pricks called me that. I breathe in and out deeply and wash with my favorite body wash. Before I shut off the water, I rinse everything, letting the remaining bits of stress leave my body and swirl down the drain with the suds.

The wonderful smell of Dar’s delicious omelets greets me after I step out into the hallway. I tend to forget how well she can cook, but I should know better, since she is studying culinary arts at Bluewood University, which is more than I can say for myself. I burn grilled cheese sandwiches and manage to set off the fire alarm making toast.

Securing a towel to my body and wrapping one around my head, I walk into the kitchen. Dar has already filled my plate and set it onto the breakfast bar. I hop up to my usual stool to eat. She just smiles at me with her cheeks stuffed with eggs, making her look like a chipmunk.

After grabbing a big drink of orange juice, she wipes her mouth and swallows. “About time you decided to join me. Your plate was next.” Laughing, she stabs at my food, and I swat away her fork, sticking out my tongue. 

Cha
pter 2

Weak faded memories flood through my mind

Twisting the truth, spreading demise

Time laughs in my face, contorting the lies

Holding my head, searching for why

Silence is crucial; I’ll muse then unwind

Weaving in and out of sanity, breaking the bind

Yet in the end, I’m the only one who wears the disguise.

Cassandra

I stare blankly at the clothes hanging in perfect order in my closet. Everything is hung according to seasonal groups. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, the clothes are subdivided by color. My organizational habits may be a little a bit particular, but I don’t have trouble finding an outfit. Dar claims I’m anal-retentive; I prefer to think of it as being smart and efficient.

The dark pair of distressed boot-cut jeans and a sheer black top call my attention. Grabbing a teal cami, I walk over to my vanity and lay my outfit across the bed. I dab some makeup onto my face, a swish of mascara, and a swipe of lip-gloss. Standing back, I stare at my reflection. “Yes, much better,” I say to myself.

If it weren’t for Lucas stealing my phone, I wouldn’t be going shopping with Dar today for a new outfit. He didn’t really give me an option to say no to this “date” as Dar keeps referring to it as. After slipping on my jeans and shirt, I pace the room, letting it all sink in. “Who does he think he is?” I ask the mirror as heat rises to my face. “Shopping? It’s all his fault!” I fan myself to cool my boiling blood. “He’s holding my phone hostage? How old is he?” I plop down onto my bed, sighing. “I’m going to see Lucas Daniels…again.”

I’m not sure if I’m mad at Lucas for being the reason I’m being subjected to this shopping trip or if I’m having hot flashes from thinking of seeing him again. Either way, I know I’m spending too much time thinking about him, which isn’t good.

I begin pacing in circles in front of my mirror, occasionally looking up at my reflection. There’s no room in my life for a boyfriend and the drama of having one. I stop dead in my tracks after that last thought and stare at myself, making sure I got that point drilled in. “I have no time for this nonsense.” Maybe I’m the one who is teetering on the edge of insanity and not Dar after all. “I give up,” I mumble under my breath and head to the living room before I tumble into another panic attack.

“Okay,” I call to Dar to get her attention. “I’m ready, but definitely not willing.” She drops her shoe to the floor and whips her head around so fast I’m afraid she may break her neck.

“Uh, Cass, I know you haven’t gotten laid in a while, but I don’t think you need to wear that.” She scratches her temple. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in most of your clothes, but damn…I’m sure you could have found something better than that. You know, at least cover up your goodies.” Her voice squeaks as she says the last word.

Nervously, I run my hands down the front of my pants. “Huh? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I look down at my outfit. “Sure, I’m not runway ready, but I thought this was cute.”

Dar looks like she is on the verge of hysterical laughter, instantly causing me to question my choice. Trying to figure out what I did to deserve the look on her face, I do a once-over of my clothes.

Shirt, check.

Pants, check.

Black flats, check, check.

Her remark about my ‘goodies’ hits me like a ton of bricks. I don’t know why I didn’t get it when she said it in the first place. I stretch out my see-through shirt and mutter, “Shit.”

Dar wails with laughter while I hide my face in my palms. This is all Lucas’ fault. If I hadn’t been thinking about him, I would have been able to dress myself properly. Apparently, I put on my shirt without remembering that I needed my camisole underneath the sheer blouse. A fluorescent pink lacy bra staring back at us is all I can see.
Shoot me now!
My face turns crimson, and without another word, I stomp off to my room.

I pick up the form-fitting teal cami with lace trim and slip it on. Wearing two shirts together makes an accent of teal and lace peek out above and below my shirt. I walk out of my room and strike a pose. “There, now I’m ready.”

Dar slides on her shoes and stands up, shaking her little ass. “Aw, snap.” She clicks her fingers. “It’s time for a sexy party!” Then, she runs across the living room and turns on the radio. “I took my happy pills, so c’mon, hot stuff. Let’s dance.” We both hop onto the cushions of the couch and start moving our bodies to the song.

Dar is attempting to do the robot. She could never do it quite right. I’ve made an effort to teach her how to dance for years, but her movements are too rigid and forced to ever look like dancing. It’s almost as if her muscles are tightening to the point of pain and then sporadically releasing on their own. The song ends. While laughing at her, I go turn down the volume. “Phew! I’m thirsty,” I say, catching my breath. “You want something?”

“Oh, I sure do, but you have the wrong anatomy to give it to me.” She hops down off the couch and shakes her hips in my direction. “I’m so happy Hunter will be home soon.” I grab some water out of the fridge and toss it over to her as she takes a seat on the cushion.

Hunter and Dar dated for three years before getting engaged. They will celebrate one year of engagement in December. Hunter is the only person with whom I’ve ever known Dar to be serious.

“Cass, I’m glad you decided against baring it all. I was really starting to question your morals.” She peeks over the breakfast bar from the couch. “Well, that or I considered the possibility you were still drunk,” she says, laughing.

As I lean against the counter, I grab a drink of water before setting down the bottle. “I think I was just suffering from a mental stupor after losing consciousness,” I lie. I know why I had forgotten my shirt, but I’m not going to tell her. She’d never let me live it down if she knew my thoughts had been clouded with everything Lucas— the way his muscles move beneath his skin, how his husky voice caresses my name, and most importantly, why he has my phone.

Once again, my focus turns to him. I can’t figure out what’s so alluring about this guy. Why do I feel attracted to him?

Wait! L-U-C-A-S,
I spell out internally.

“Dar!” I yell and slap my hands against the counter. “Does Lucas also happen to be known as Luca?” My body stiffens until I’m standing straight as an arrow.

“Yes, I was about to say that to you before you showered, but you passed out. Then, you decided to pull some stripper trend on me, coming out here dressed like you were.”

I audibly exhale and shake my head.

Dar pinches her brow, confused by my reaction. “What’s the big deal about one letter? I mean, yeah, I know you were already tripping about him. What’s the difference if his name is Luca or Lucas? Either way, he’s still hot, right?” She purses her lips and drops her hands to her hips.

I glare at her in disbelief. “Dar-tan-ya,” I say, exaggerating every syllable of her name. “How you are not seeing the bigger picture here astonishes me.” My eyes bug out, and my mouth hangs open. I shake my head. “At least when he was simply Lucas, he wasn’t a suspected murderer or a player. You know, the way I had pegged Luca.”

She tilts her head back and laughs at me as she rounds the corner of the kitchen. “Cassandra Blair, what in the hell are you talking about? Luca, a.k.a. Lucas, is neither of those things. I have no idea where you get these crazy ideas. I think you need to get your head examined.” She twirls her finger beside her temple, implying that I’m crazy. She grabs my hand and pulls me behind her to the living room.

“Dar, the door to The Hot Spot has ‘Luca Da Lady Killah’ painted on it. I’m not making up this shit.” I pull my hand from hers, and she turns to face me. “I couldn’t,” I state, as I wait for her reply.

She shakes her head in confusion, and her cheeks puff out from her hefty laugh.

“What is so funny?” I force out each word through my clenched teeth.

She sits and brings her laughter to a mere giggle before speaking. Each time she laughs it adds to my frustration. Dar pats the cushion beside her, motioning for me to sit. “Well, Cass, you see…Hmm… Where to start.” She taps her nose with her finger as she contemplates. “I know! First off, Lucas a.k.a. Luca is a friend of Johnny’s.” She pauses long enough to look up and see me nod my head. She crosses her legs and folds her arms across one another, letting me know this is about to take a while. “The road trip I took with Johnny to Baton Rouge is the first time I hung out with Lucas. Do you remember the summer crush I had after the trip?”

“I do.”

Her behavior is extremely odd. She’s never been the type to shy away from anything. She uncrosses her arms and then begins to stare at her hands as she twiddles her thumbs. “It was Lucas. Only then, I called him Luca because that’s what his friends called him. I tried to do anything that would make him see me more as his peer and not Johnny’s kid sister. Cass, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who he was before, but it really didn’t come up in conversation, until now. After we started school, I met Hunter, and the rest is history,” she says in a matter-of-fact voice. “Hunter licked all my wounds and honestly made me forget about Luca. Anyhow, you know how I told you Johnny used to work at The Hot Spot?” She looks at me to make sure I’m listening.

“Yeah.” I nod, forgetting all about this until she brought it up.

“Well, I used to borrow his car, but you know all about that. Remember the night we went to Couriers Lake?” She wiggles her eyebrows up and down devilishly.

“Please, don’t remind me,” I groan and close my eyes as the memories of the one and only time I have ever skinny-dipped flood my mind. It had been a disaster. When I came out of the water, my clothes were gone. Dar hid them, leading to the only time I’ve gone streaking. “I still owe you one for that. I hope you know.” I shake my finger in her direction.

“Matter-at-hand! Cass, just let bygones be bygones.” Dar brushes it off easily, but she didn’t have to explain to her parents why I was naked in the back of a police cruiser. “Look, I told you I didn’t hide your clothes. It was that cross-eyed little shit. What was his name?” she asks, but I know damn well she remembers and only wants to hear me say it.

“Henry Macintosh,” I confess, not enjoying our little trip down memory lane. “Just get on with your story, please.” The possibility of Henry having anything of mine makes me cringe.

She giggles but then prattles on and on where she left off. “One night, I was waiting for Johnny in the parking lot and saw something on the floorboard, glistening in the moonlight. A can of neon green spray paint was there, begging for me to use it. I just couldn’t let it go to waste. I was so mad at him for rejecting me. You know I don’t deal well with being turned down. I guess, I don’t know; I was bored.” She shrugs a shoulder and raises her eyebrows.

“I have to know, Dar. Did he break your heart, and why would you even speak to him if he did?” I ask. She was somewhat self-destructive at one point, but I don’t understand how anyone can forgive someone when they screw them over.

Her facial expression relaxes, and a smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. “He has actually become a good friend. Didn’t you notice we didn’t pay for anything last night? He broke my heart because he turned me down, but with good cause. Most men wouldn’t turn down the vag for just any reason.” She lets out a deep sigh. “We’d all been drinking, me...a little too much as usual, and I tried to seduce him. He told me he would never be part of something I would regret later in life. Even in my drunken stupor, I had to respect his decision. He hadn’t led me on in any way, shape, or form. Probably the only reason I felt anything for him came as a result of boredom. I rode across the country with three guys, one being my brother.”

“Dar,” I say in a soft voice, suspiciously eyeing her. “If you were over him, why would you write about him on the wall of The Hot Spot?”

“Well, honestly?” She pauses to look at me, and I nod my head. “Cass, why do you think I would try to set you up with someone I still have feelings for?” She yawns and stretches out her arms. I shake my head no. “That’s exactly right. No, I wouldn’t, so stop worrying. He’s a really nice guy, and I just want you to be happy.” She grins and looks into my eyes. “The reason…well, you know I like to tag stuff. Before you ask, I don’t know why he had paint in his car.” We’ve been friends long enough for her to know when I’m preparing to ask something else. “Now, let’s get your ass up, out the door, and into my car!” She flattens her palm and shakes them after every few words. We both laugh at her choppy motions.

How long have we sat here?
My ass feels numb. The sincerity I see in Dar’s face is all the convincing I need. She is immature at times with the way she goes out every weekend and drinks like a fish, but that’s her prerogative. It is what most twenty-one-year-olds do in this town, but I only have one best friend. Dar is prescribed multiple nerve medications for anxiety and depression. When she drinks on top of taking them, she tends to get a little crazy and often ends up doing something or someone she regrets.

I’ve never seen the appeal of going to a bar only to get hit on by some drunk who lies about the wife and kids at home. I like to stay in and read a good novel or watch
Criminal Minds
. Dar is certain I was supposed to be a man, but something went wrong inside my mom’s womb, causing me to be female. The ideas she comes up with never cease to amaze me.