Breathe, Annie, Breathe (18 page)

“Annie, please come with me,” Colton begs, and I keep shaking my head.

It’s Saturday evening after I’ve completed my first twenty-mile run. I haven’t been able to keep a bite of food down all afternoon, and I iced my knee three times and took an extra strength Tylenol. Vanessa is busy hooking up with her boyfriend in our bedroom, so Kelsey let me camp out in hers.

And Colton freaking wants me to go to a DTK party and put in a word for him with Jeremiah, who currently doesn’t want anything to do with me.

“Please?” Kelsey asks me quietly.

With my bedroom being commandeered by Vanessa and Rory, it’s not like I have much else to do.

“Okay,” I finally agree, mostly because Kelsey asked me to. And if I’m being honest, because I miss Jeremiah and want to see how he’s doing.

She opens her closet. “We need to make ourselves hot asap. Colton, get out.”

He grins at her. “I’ll go change my shirt and meet you back here.”

Kelsey and I turn up the music real loud while we get ready, straightening our hair, slipping into various outfits. She dances around the room, sliding lip gloss on, and I limp around like I just had my hip replaced.

“I have no idea where I’m going to sleep tonight,” I say, popping two more Tylenol. “Maybe I should go back to Franklin. I bet Vanessa and Rory won’t come out of there before noon tomorrow.”

“I bet they don’t come out until he has to drive back to his school…maybe you should stay with Jere tonight.”

I ignore Kelsey and go back to trying on her clothes. I settle on a pair of jeans, a black halter top, heels, and bangles, rocking an arm party.

Kelsey nods at my outfit approvingly. “That’s really cute. Do you like these?” She wiggles her butt in her tight pink shorts, and that starts us laughing. This reminds me of playing dress-up in her mother’s closet when we were little. It’s crazy that we’re all grown up with somewhere to go finally.

“Oh my God, this is nuts.” Kelsey starts telling me about how Iggy talks in her sleep. “This is just a guess, but I think she has a crush on this guy she knows, Jason Bulger.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes in the middle of the night, she starts yelling in her sleep, ‘Bulger! Bulger!’”

I crack up along with her, and by the time Colton comes to pick us up, Kelsey and I are laughing our asses off. The side of Colton’s mouth slips into a smirky smile when he sees how happy she is.

When we arrive at the party, cars are everywhere, so we have to park down the street. But I can still see that the DTK house is huge. A tall fence encircles the property. Or should I say palace? This place is like a castle, with its ivy covering the brick walls and the fancy fountain…with a statue of a mermaid naked from the waist up. Hmm.

We walk in the door and immediately a guy hands us each a plastic cup and a Sharpie to write our name on it. Then we get drinks.

This is nothing like high school parties, where boys jump off the roof into the pool and everybody gets smashed and hangs all over everybody, using alcohol as an excuse for hooking up. Sure, people are drinking here, but they aren’t loud. Well, the beer pong tournament is noisy, but most people are sitting on couches, slowly sipping their drinks or making out in dark doorways. The music isn’t blaring. Who ever thought a frat would be somewhat classy? I use the word
somewhat
because I’m sipping box wine out of a plastic cup.

Mason, one of the guys who came to the Roadhouse and also Jeremiah’s roommate, hustles up to me. “Annie!” He gives me a noisy kiss on the cheek, making me grin. What a goofball.

“You got enough to drink?” Mason asks.

“I do, thanks. Have you met my friends Kelsey and Colton?” They all shake hands, and another guy who came to the Roadhouse approaches—the doofus who stole the coonskin cap off the wall and wore it. Mason introduces him as Fisher. I’m not sure if that’s his first, last, or nickname (because he’s good at catching bass or something?).

Fisher points at me. “We met you at that restaurant! You’re Jere’s friend.”

I nod, wondering if that’s still the case. Are you still friends if you go from talking every day for nearly two months to sending only two texts in one week?

“Where
is
Jere?” Kelsey asks, sipping her beer.

“Last I saw him, he was in our library,” Fisher says. “With his ex, Gina.”

I choke on my wine.

Mason pushes Fisher’s shoulder. “Dude, shut up.” He gives me a worried look as I cover my mouth to cough—wine is stuck in my throat. “Don’t mind Fish, Annie. He doesn’t know whether to check his ass or scratch his watch.”

Jeremiah has an ex? He’s here with a girl…?

Kelsey lays a hand on my arm. “Want to go home?”

Her concern makes me smile, and I pat her hand, but deep inside I feel a low darkness starting to spread. “I’m fine. You should go dance with Colton.”

After giving me a long look, she and Colton start moving to a fast song, getting lost in each other.

“Do you want to dance?” Mason asks me, looking awkward. Fisher has vamoosed.

“I’m cool,” I say, and Mason lets out a long breath of air, muttering something about needing to check the keg.

All alone, I find myself wandering toward the back of the house, looking for the library. I can’t help it. I have to know what’s up with Jeremiah. I need to know if I screwed up our friendship.

I pass by a billiards room with three pool tables, then a den full of cushy sofas. I come upon a room with lots of desks and shelves filled with books. I bet this is where DTK guys study. I hear a noise and gaze to the right. Jeremiah.

He’s sitting with a pretty girl on a leather sofa. Smiling at her. She touches his arm and returns his stare. Seeing them together makes me choke again.

He jerks his head when he hears me cough. My heartbeat races and I feel panicky. Seeing him with another girl sucks. I have no right to him, I know, but still. This really does suck. My hands shake. I make a break for the door.

“Hey, wait up,” he says breathlessly, rushing toward me. “You came to our party.”

“I did.” I look past him to where the girl is still sitting on the couch. I wipe my damp palms on my jeans. The darkness inside me starts to spread. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

He glances over his shoulder but turns right back to me. “You aren’t interrupting. Gina and I are in the same Ethics of Education class. We were talking about this paper we have to write for the midterm.”

“Oh.”
I
thought
she
was
your
ex.

“But you came,” he repeats, a grin spreading across his face. He rubs his hands together. “How about a tour?”

Gina stands and stalks over to him, wobbling on her four-inch heels. “So that’s it, then?”

“We can talk about the paper on Monday. Talking about schoolwork on a weekend is a crime.”

“It is not,” Gina says.

“I’m sure it is in some states. People outlaw all sorts of shit. Like, in Minnesota, it’s against the law to eat ice cream on sidewalks on Tuesdays.”

Gina glares. “But we were talking!”

“We’ll talk on Monday.” Jere takes my hand, leaving her behind, and leads me to a rear staircase. His dark jeans, knit cap, and snug gray tee make my mouth go dry.

“I should go back to my room—I mean, home,” I say. Even after a week, my new room doesn’t feel like
home
.

“You can stay right here with me.”

“You were with a girl. I don’t want to interrupt.”

His expression is soft and kind. “You didn’t interrupt.”

“Fisher told me she’s your ex.” I stare at the hardwood floor. He doesn’t say anything back, and when I finally look up at him, I find a wicked smirk.

“We dated for a couple weeks last winter, but we didn’t mesh…Are you jealous?”

“No!”

“I think you’re jealous,” he whispers. He nods at my fingers, which are currently playing with my necklace.

I cross my arms. “Nope. You should go right back to whatever you were doing with Gina.”

“You are
so
jealous.”

I change the subject. “This is not what I expected a frat house to look like.”

“Oh?”

“Where’s the waterslide? Where’s the body shot area?”

“That happens later in the evening,” he jokes. “Want that tour now?” He takes my hand in his and leads me to the backyard. They do, in fact, have a pool, but no waterslide. Probably couldn’t afford one after buying that naked mermaid statue. Eye roll. They also have lots of picnic tables, lounge furniture, and tennis and basketball courts. Inside the house: a huge kitchen with an island, a meeting room, and a dining room with five long tables that easily seat a hundred people.

“What is this? The Great Hall at Hogwarts?” I say, making him chuckle.

He leads me to the foyer, where Mason and Fisher are passing out cups and hitting on girls. When they see Jeremiah holding my hand, Fisher silently mouths “Yes!” at Mason.

“How many guys live here?” I ask.

“Forty. We have over a hundred members, but some of the older guys live in apartments or in houses off campus, and freshmen usually live in the dorms.”

Running his hand along the bannister, he leads me up a wide staircase to the second floor. Composite pictures of pledge classes cover the walls. Jeremiah points out his brother Matt’s class that graduated a few years ago.

“We all share bathrooms up here, so if you need to go, use the one for girls downstairs. It always has soap and toilet paper.”

“How do I know which room it is?”

“It has a sign on the door that says
Sheilas
.”

“Like at Outback Steakhouse?”

He cocks his head. “I think we stole that sign from there, yeah.”

Jeremiah pushes open his bedroom door. It’s set up kind of like mine: two twin beds, two dressers, two desks. How is it different from my room? Socks, T-shirts, boxers, and shorts are everywhere.

“Sorry for the mess,” he says. “I would’ve cleaned up if I’d known you were stopping by.”

“It’s okay. I have a brother, you know.”

“A brother who would kill me if he knew you were in my room right now.”

“Yeah, he would.” I look at the pictures of his family taped to the wall. I laugh at one where Kate is shooting a water gun at him. Another shows Jennifer sitting on his shoulders at a zoo. And then I see the medals and trophies.

“There must be a hundred medals here,” I exclaim, examining one from the New York City Marathon.

“I get ’em at the end of most races. I save them.”

The room is quiet, minus the sounds of the party downstairs. I lean up against his desk. “I probably should head back to my dorm. I’m tired.”

“Don’t go,” he says in a quiet voice.

“Why not?”

“We still haven’t talked about why you were jealous tonight.”

“God!” I growl. “Do you have to win at everything? Can’t you just let it go?”

“Nope.”

“I’m not a prize to be won, Jeremiah. I’m worth more than that.”

He stalks toward me and pins me to the desk. His hips press against mine, stealing my breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he snaps.

“Your brother told me you don’t do serious relationships. Are you just trying to win me? Then forget about me?”

He takes a step back, nearly tripping over a heavy hiking boot. His nostrils flare. “How could you question our friendship?”

“I’m—”

“No. Let me get this out.” He paces the room. “I care about you. I care about you like I’ve never cared about anybody before. More than my family. More than my brother.”

I close my eyes and grab his desk chair to hold myself up.

He goes on, “I’ve wanted you since the moment we met.”

My instincts tell me to rush out of the room, but the tug to stay with him is too strong.

“I never wanted a relationship with a girl before you,” he goes on. “My life moved too fast to slow down for anybody. But this entire summer I’ve been going slow. I’ve been waiting for you. And I can wait as long as you need. I can’t say I know how you feel or tell you how to feel better, but I can wait. I’ll be your friend.

“But don’t insult me. I haven’t been with another girl since I met you. I don’t consider you some prize to be won.”

By the time he’s done speaking, he’s panting and there’s a vulnerability in his eyes I’ve never seen before. It scares me. But it also knocks something loose.

He
can
wait.

“Jere?”

“Hmm?”

I reach a hand out to him. “I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

“Always.”

We stand quietly, staring at each other, holding hands.

I ask, “If I’m ready for some things with you, but not other stuff, will you be mad?”

Searching my eyes, he gently rubs his thumb against my palm. “I’m ready for whatever you’re ready for.”

I take a deep breath. “I met Kyle after I smashed him in the head with a volleyball.” Jeremiah dips his head and smiles sadly, listening as I tell the story of my first love. I describe our first fight—how Kyle had signed up for the Homecoming kissing booth, not understanding we were in a real relationship and people in relationships don’t kiss other people in kissing booths, even if it is for charity.

“Dude had cojones,” Jeremiah jokes, and I smack his arm. He sets his hands on my waist and pulls me close, as if he’s scared I’m going to get away. “Tell me more.”

“I liked silence and he always had to fill it. He was a terrible backseat driver—he would stomp an imaginary brake when I was going too fast. He smacked his cereal and it drove me nuts. He proposed to me…and I said no, but I would’ve eventually said yes. He was mine and I was his.”

I choke up, and Jeremiah pulls me into a long hug. “Thank you for telling me about him.”

I wipe tears off my cheeks. “I miss him.”

“I know you do, darlin’.” His voice is soft and sweet. I press my palms to his chest, and my own feels lighter.
He
can
wait
for
me.

“I know a game I can beat you at,” I say, gently sweeping my fingers across his T-shirt.