Out of Breath (Exposed Series Book 2) (4 page)

“You should.” Tina stood and put her hand on my shoulder. “Even if
I was the only one that read it, it would be nice for you to leave me
something.”

“As if you don’t already have everything you want.”

“True. But I don’t have anything of yours. To remember you by.”

“What do you want?”

“Well none of your furniture or jewelry that’s for sure.” 

I shook my head. “You can be such a bitch.”

“So write it. For me. And Kate. I bet she would read it.”

“She might,” I said. “If it existed.”

“I’m glad I could help. I was starting to think I was just an
accessory for you to bounce ideas off of.”

“Not at all.” I smiled. “I also needed to meet you so I could
get your spare key for Kate.”

Tina reached in her purse where it was hanging on the back of
her chair and pulled out a key ring that looked more expensive than my car.
Then she got my spare key loose and handed it to me.  

“Thanks,” I said, placing on the table.

“Of course.” Tina slung her bag over her shoulder. “Call you
later?”

“Sounds good.”

She took two steps and turned back in my direction. “Dawn?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re sticking around a while.”

“I know,” I said. “Me, too.”

Annie wedged her cigarette butt into the crowded ashtray, and I watched
the last trickle of smoke rise towards the umbrella that stuck out from her
patio table.

“So how long do you think you’re going to stay with your Aunt?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. As long as she’ll let me. I mean, she’s
way chiller than my parents.” I lowered my cigarette and ashed on the ground.

“And it’s cool with your Mom and Dad?”

“Honestly, they were gonna send me to live somewhere else anyway.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Like to a boarding school or something for wild kids like me.”
I forced a smile.

“Fuck me. Do they think you’re that wild?”

I shrugged. “They never drank or smoked at our age.”

“So what? I swear they’ve gotten worse.”

“I think my getting caught when Trey’s got busted did it.
They’ve been, like, super paranoid since then.”

“It’s not like you got alcohol poisoning. Danielle said you guys
weren’t even that shitty.”

“We were kinda shitty.”

“Shittier than usual?”

“No.” I said, gearing up to finally broach the subject. “But I
think last Saturday- the night I went to my Aunt’s- was the last straw.”

“Why?”

“Cause my Mom busted me coming home stoned.”

Her jaw dropped. “Stoned? Who were you getting stoned with?”

“Kevin.”

Her eyes stayed wide. “You’ve been smoking with Kevin?”

“Yup.”

“Like a lot?”

“No,” I said. “Just a few times.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I cocked my head at her. “I was actually going to ask you the
same question?”

“Sorry.”

“I felt like such an idiot for not knowing. I’m supposed to be
your best friend.”

“You are.”

“So why wouldn’t you tell me something like that?”

“I didn’t think you were cool with it.”

“Even if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have cared if you did.” I
looked over my shoulder at the back of her house to make sure none of the
windows were cracked. “I’m just disappointed you didn’t tell me, you know?”

“My bad. But you liked it anyway?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I did. I do. It’s different than drinking.”

“Better in some ways.”

I nodded. “Since when have you been doing it?”

“Since I started seeing Rob. That’s the only reason Kevin knew
before you. I swear.”

“It’s no big deal,” I lied.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention it.”

“What about Danielle?”

“What about her?”

“Does she know? Have you smoked with her?”

She didn’t have to say anything. Her guilt had nowhere to hide
on her tiny freckled face.

“What the fuck. How come she knew?”

“She has older siblings. She just sort of guessed.”

I shook my head.

“I wasn’t going to tell her either. She just called me out.”

“So you guys have gotten high together then? Without me?”

“Once or twice. That’s all. Really.”

I felt a familiar, nagging cramp in my lower guts. It was
stress, and it made me want to stuff my face.

I took a deep breath.

What if feeling left out was one of my triggers? It would
certainly go a long way towards explaining why I’d spent so much time with my
finger down my throat the last few years. I mean, my entire high school
experience was just a mess of humiliation and paranoia. I felt left out,
singled out, and like I was missing out all the time.

“You okay?” Annie asked.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not upset?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Cause if you’re really depressed, we could smoke a bowl.”

I turned my head towards her. “You mean you have some now?”

She smiled. “Just a little… But it’s stinky.”

“Your call.”

“I think I’ll get it. I feel bad I didn’t tell you. I’d like to
make it up to you.”

“Well, if it would make
you
feel better…” I said,
laughing.

Her small face lit up. “Say no more.”

“Wait-” I sat up in my chair. “Isn’t your Dad home?”

“Yeah, but he’s working on his car in the garage,” she said.
“And even if he caught us, he wouldn’t say shit.”

“How do you figure?”

“Cause he still smokes sometimes, too. When his best friend from
college visits.”

“He does?”

“It’s not all the time or anything. Promise me you won’t say
anything to anybody.”

“I would never.”

“Anyway, trust me,” she said. “It’s not like I’m going to do
anything that would get me kicked out of my own house.”

“Good one.
Hilarious
.”

She scooted her chair away from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

I couldn’t wait to get high, and I wasn’t even stoner. Not yet
anyway. But I did like it. And if I liked it even half as much as I liked
cigarettes, I’d be smoking every day in no time. I mean, it was so easy to say
“yes” and lift a burning joint to my mouth. It didn’t seem like a big deal.

But how many easy yes’s did it take to become a full blown pot
head? Were you only one if you bought it yourself? If you never turned it down?
If you got high every day? By yourself? Like Kevin did? And maybe Annie, too?
Maybe I was the weird one for not having my own stash? I didn’t want people to
think I was a mooch.

I didn’t know what I was. I just knew I liked how it made me
feel. And since my latest resolution was to take things one day at a time, I
didn’t see the harm.

When Annie came out the backdoor and crossed the yard to the
table, she kept one hand in the pocket of her fleece.

I pulled a water bottle out of my purse to get ready. I had yet
to smoke without at least one coughing fit. Apparently, no amount of cig
smoking could prepare me for inhaling weed.

As soon as she sat down, she pulled a clear glass bowl out of
her pocket and placed it on the table. It had neon colored swirls up and down
it and a little mound of green weed packed at one end.

“Where did you get that?”

“Rob gave it to me.”

“Right. Of course.”

“You can have greens,” she said, pulling a lighter from her
pocket and handing it to me.

“Greens?”

“The first hit?”

“Oh. Okay.” I picked up the bowl and the lighter, but it must
have been obvious that I didn’t know what I was doing.

“You have to cover that small hole with your finger first,” she
said, pointing it out. “And then uncover it to let more air in so you don’t
burn your throat.”

“Maybe it would be better if you went first,” I said, extending
my hands towards her. “So I can see what you mean.”

She took the pipe and the lighter without argument.

I watched how she lit the edge of the weed and inhaled until the
pipe was filled with white smoke. As soon as she moved her thumb from the hole,
the smoke disappeared into her lungs.

She was still holding in her hit when she passed me the pipe and
the lighter. When she started to cough, she tried to keep her mouth shut, but
it was no use. The smoke came out in big gusts and surrounded us where we sat.

I followed her lead down to the coughing fit, and after we’d
each taken a few quiet hits, I felt unusually light and a little bit funny.

“So you must like Kevin?” she asked, reaching for my water.

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s cool.”

“What about Ian?”

“What about him?” I shrugged. “I guess I still like him, too.”

She made a face like she had a bad taste in his mouth.

“Come on. He’s not that bad,” I said, wondering who I was trying
to convince.

“I like Kevin way better.”

“Wow. And you don’t like anyone.”

“That’s not true. I just really hate Ian.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

I didn’t believe her, but I didn’t push it. After all, I wanted
to hear more about Kevin.

“I guess Kevin has some ex-girlfriend in college,” I said.

“Yeah. From what I understand.”

“You know anything about her?”

“Does it matter? They aren’t together anymore.”

“Will you just tell me what you know?”

Annie sighed. “I know she’s pretty. Blond. Leggy.”

“How long were they together?”

“Over a year, I think.”

“Over a year?!”

“Something like that. Anyway, she’s definitely not over him. You
can tell by how she acts.”

“So he must’ve broken it off?”

“I guess.”

“Do you know why?’

“No, but it’s not because she’s ugly or stupid.”

I bit the inside of my cheek.

“I’d say you have a chance, though.”

“Really?”

“Why not? You’re just as cool as she is.”

“I was hoping for prettier, sexier, and much better company.”

“I say go for it anyway,” she said. “If they were together that
long, he probably knows his way around.”

“His way around?”

She cocked her head at me. “Are you just baked or are you really
so dumb I have to spell it out for you?”

“Ohhhhh… His way arouunnd.”

She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand.

“I guess he might.” 

“I’d bet on it for sure,” she said.

I didn’t know if Annie was truly the authority on sex that she
pretended to be, but I’d never wanted her to be more right in my life.

“Do you know anything else about Kevin? Like what he likes?” I
asked, twirling a strand of hair my finger.

“You’re the one that’s been spending so much time with him.”

“Yeah, but-”

“I don’t know. He probably likes the same shit all guys like?”

“Which is…?”

“Pretty girls that smile a lot and think they’re hilarious.”

“Right.”

“And sluts, of course.”

I sighed.

“I don’t think Kevin’s into sluts, though. He’s pretty shy from
what I’ve seen.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you can draw him out of his shell.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Or better yet, his clothes.”

I felt feverish as soon as I pulled in the driveway. My doctor
told me it was one of the symptoms of my illness, but I knew better on this
occasion. My throat was closing up, too.

I turned off the ignition and stared at my sister’s house. It
was a two story brick colonial. Just like she’d always wanted. And it hadn’t
changed from the last time I’d seen it. Which meant, if my years in counseling
had taught me anything, that her marriage was probably in good shape.

Too often, a dilapidated house was symptomatic of a miserable
husband and a disconnected couple. But from the freshly painted door to the
immaculate lawn, it looked like the flowerbed wasn’t the only bed getting
enough attention. Then again, I suppose she could’ve had a landscaper.