Reason to Breathe (Breathing 1)

“Huh, that actually surprises me.” He didn’t say anything more, and I wasn’t about to try to explain the rules of Carol and George’s kitchen.

“Can I ask you something?” I blurted without really thinking through what I was about to say. This was becoming a habit that was causing my heart and head more distress than I could handle. Whenever I was with Evan I found myself revealing, asking, and agreeing to things that were sending my brain into shock.

“Go for it.” Evan stopped what he was doing to lean his back against the counter, still holding the knife in his hand.

“Do you always get what you want?” He looked at me with uncertainty, so I attempted to clarify, “I mean, are you as forward with everyone as you are with me?”

He chuckled, not the answer I was looking for.

Evan paused long enough to make me wish I hadn’t asked the question. He smiled before he replied, “No. Normal girls wouldn’t be able to handle it. They tend to respond better to subtlety and flirting. I know that whatever I say to any other girl would be passed on to her friends and eventually to the rest of the school, so direct doesn’t work in most situations. But this is not most situations, and you are far from any other girl.” He turned to continue his preparation.

His answer left me baffled. If this was direct, then I would hate to be a normal girl, because I had no idea what he meant by half of what he just said. I decided not to even attempt to understand it - fearing it would only make me more confused.

“Okay,” he said, still with his back to me as he dumped the contents of the cutting board in the wok on the stove, “I have a question for you.” Now look what I started - I sighed and braced myself.

“How come you’ve never been on a date?” Evan turned to look at me, anticipating my answer.

“Why would I?” was the first thing that came out of my mouth.

He laughed and went back to tossing the contents of the wok. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he said with a smile. I shrugged, fiddling with a string on my sweater. I had to change the subject, but I was coming up blank.

“Have you ever been kissed?” he asked suddenly. My face flashed with the familiar warmth as my mouth dropped open.

“Well, that was definitely direct,” I accused. “And I don’t think I’m going to answer that question.”

“You have,” he concluded, glancing back at me with a smirk. “Good to know.”

“Let’s change the subject,” I pushed as the heat on my face spread to my ears. “Where was your favorite place to live?”

He didn’t respond.

“Evan?”

“What? Sorry, I didn’t hear the question,” he confessed, absently pushing around the ingredients sizzling in the wok. “I was trying to figure out if I know who the guy is. But if it was someone from school, I’m sure I would have found out by now. Is he in college?” He leaned against the counter to examine me, trying to pluck the answer from the mortified expression on my face.

“You’re forgetting the line,” I reminded him with wide eyes.

“What? This isn’t about you and me,” he defended. “I thought friends shared this kind of stuff. I’ll tell you who my first kiss was if that will make you feel better.”

“No, not really,” I stated emphatically. “I’m not interested, and I’m not going to answer your question about my private experiences. We’re not that good of friends.”

“But you have been kissed - I was right, wasn’t I?”

“So,” I gaped. “What does it matter if I’ve been kissed?”

“But you’ve never been on a date,” he mused, like it was a mystery he was attempting to solve. If he thought that the answer was going to reveal something surprising, he was definitely going to be disappointed. He set two filled plates on the counter.

“This is really good,” I said after taking a bite, anxious to change the subject. But I wasn’t being dishonest, the stir fry was good. I wasn’t sure I liked continuing to find things about Evan that impressed me.

“Thanks,” he said inattentively, still thinking about my responses.

“Can we please move past this?” I pleaded.

“Sure, but you’ll tell me eventually,” he said confidently.

“I don’t understand why you want to know.” I realized, after I spoke, that I was feeding into the same topic I was trying so hard to get away from.

“I’m still trying to figure you out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out. I’m not that interesting.” Evan didn’t respond. He looked down with his mischievous grin and pierced a piece of chicken with his fork.

As we ate, I was finally able to redirect the conversation toward different places he’s lived. He described each country or city and what he liked and didn’t like about it. I breathed easier, having escaped the ever revealing inquiry about my personal life. I helped with the dishes while we continued talking about a skiing trip he went on with his brother in Switzerland a couple of winters ago. I was extremely enthralled with his travel stories and the many experiences he’s had in only seventeen years. Especially since my sheltered life within the confines of New England had little experience to compare it to.

“Do you have your license?” Evan asked as we sat back at the counter.

“No, I don’t have my permit yet,” I admitted.

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“You’re sixteen?” He seemed surprised.

“Oh, something you didn’t know about me?” I taunted. “I skipped a grade early in elementary school. My birthday’s in June, but I’ve been too busy to get my permit and take classes.”

This, of course, was a complete lie. In order to get my permit, my guardian was required to take two hours of parent classes - that was never going to happen. Carol and George weren’t burdened with having to drive me from place to place - so why would they care if I had my license? Besides, what good was a license if I couldn’t afford a car?

“Do you know how to drive?”

“Sara’s tried to teach me the basics in empty parking lots. She wants to take me on the road, but I’d die if anything happened to her car. If we ever got caught and she lost her license, it would suck for both of us.”

“Does she have an automatic or manual?”

“Automatic.”

“I’m surprised that her car’s an automatic. Want to learn to drive a stick?”

“Not today,” I replied bluntly.

“A library day,” he determined with a grin.

“Maybe,” I said hesitantly. How many of these library days was he planning? The thought of getting caught made my stomach hurt. It was bad enough I had agreed to go to the batting cages on Sunday. There was no way I could risk more excursions.

“Do you want to give me your iPod and I’ll download that band for you?”

“It’ll be hard to be without it for the weekend or actually even for the game today.” I reached in my backpack trying to decide if I should give it to him.

“You can borrow mine,” he offered without hesitating. Trading personal property already? This simple gesture felt so much bigger than just exchanging music. Or perhaps I was reading too much into it. Relax. It was just music.

“Okay.” I handed him my lime green player in exchange for his black one. It may have been just music, but my heart was pounding so hard it might as well have been a ring.

“I should get ready for the game. Can you show me where the bathroom is so I can change?”

“Sure.”

I followed him into a soft yellow room that was elegantly furnished with a Victorian style couch and chair set, upholstered with light blue velvet and framed with hand carved white wood. A small, but stunning, crystal chandelier was suspended above the hand crafted coffee table. I looked across at the picture window, which allowed a full view of the front yard. The room opened up into a receiving area at the main entrance with a small table set against the wall, where a colorful arrangement of flowers was set next to a picture of four people, who I presumed to be the Mathews family.

“The light switch is inside on the right,” Evan explained when we stopped at a door along the long hallway, leading away from the elegant sitting room. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” I replied, before closing the door.

10. Night Game

When we pulled into the parking lot at the school, I assumed Evan would drop me off and come back later for the varsity game. The junior varsity team didn’t draw many spectators besides their parents and the varsity team. But he shut off the car and proceeded to get out.

“You’re staying?” I asked, grabbing my bags from his car.

“Is that okay?”

“Sure,” I replied. “There aren’t a lot of people here, but it’s up to you.”

“Can I sit with you and Sara?”

“We usually sit with the team, but I don’t see why you can’t. I have to warn you, I listen to music to block everyone out so that I can get focused. I’m not going to talk to you.”

“That’s fine. I’ll find something good for you to listen to.” He took the iPod from my hands and started scrolling through the music selections.

“Hey Sara,” I called to her when we neared the first row of the bleachers. She hadn’t noticed us approaching with her attention on the game and talking to one of the girls.

“Hi,” she exclaimed excitedly when she caught sight of me. “How did – ” Then she noticed Evan, and her question turned into a smile that lingered a little too long. I knew she had a thousand questions about my afternoon, so I was relieved that Evan was here, allowing me to avoid them until the drive home. “Hi Evan,” she greeted him warmly.

Evan sat next to Sara so that they could talk, and I zoned them out while listening to my - well Evan’s - music. He’d selected a band I was familiar with, allowing me to get lost in the high energy beats while I silently watched the game on the field. I didn’t look over at Evan or Sara and kept the volume up so I couldn’t hear them.

The bleachers started to fill in with the remaining members of the varsity team as the first half of the game came to an end. They’d acknowledge me with a wave, and I’d nod back in recognition. My teammates were familiar with my ritual and didn’t bother trying to interact.

Every so often, Evan would reach into my jacket pocket and pull out the iPod to find another selection of songs. When his hand first entered my pocket, my heart stopped – actually, so did my breathing. Once I realized what he was doing, I continued to ignore him and watched the movement in front of me.

The junior varsity teams were having difficulty moving the ball due to the saturated field and the divots created by the football game. Grass flew, cleats were caught in the grass, and bodies slid in the mud. The mist had ended by the end of the first half, but the damage was done.

When the JV game concluded with the Weslyn girls losing, two to one, the varsity players gathered on the track to prepare for the warm up laps. While we ran our warm up laps, the bleachers continued to fill in with spectators. I didn’t check the stands to see how big of a turn out the cool damp night had collected - it had nothing to do with the game.