Breathe into Me (5 page)

< Started working for Trent’s dad this week. I’m stuck with the heavy lifting. >

I smiled.

< So those muscles I saw are just for show? >

< You wound me, these muscles are the real deal! >

It felt nice to just talk to someone without them expecting something from me.

< What kind of business is it? >

< Construction. We’re putting up the framework for a new house today. >

< What time do you get done? >

Now, why had I asked that?

< Dunno. I stink, don’t want you running for the hills like last time. When’s the next GED test? >

I relaxed again at his subject change.

< Next month. >

< Need help studying? >

The question jolted me, and suddenly I couldn’t sit still anymore. I strolled down the beach, carrying my sandals in one hand. The wind was whipping up, telling me that a storm would probably blow in soon, but there was already one going on inside me.

On the one hand, I could use the help. I’d left high school almost two years before, but I’d checked out mentally long before that. I knew there were books I could buy to study, so it was conceivable to do this all on my own. But I really wanted to do it right and not fail.

I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I failed at anything again.

My mind kept going round and round with the question, so I didn’t answer his text until I finally reached my bike.

< Maybe. >

It was all I could commit to at this point. While I could talk to him via text, I couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone just yet.

Especially a boy.

The reply came almost immediately.

< Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there. >

I read the text several times, trying to see what the ulterior motive could be with this boy. Was he being nice just to get close to me? And if so, why? There was only one reason in my mind why a boy like that would want to get close to a girl like me, and I was tired of that.

“Because you’re the most interesting person I’ve met since coming here.”

I wanted to believe him, but couldn’t afford to be wrong again.

I changed my cell phone number three days later.

Macon’s calls and texts were getting more frequent, and increasingly nastier. I made the mistake of listening to one of his messages, and that one voice mail left me shivering.
“I know where you live, bitch. If you don’t call me, maybe I’ll swing by for a visit. You’ve missed me, haven’t you?”

I deleted the voice mail, along with the seven others he’d left, and immediately went to get a new number and the cheapest phone I could find. No longer feeling safe with my smartphone, I traded it in for the most basic model they had in stock. The salesman assured me there was no way this one could be tracked as it didn’t have GPS unlike the higher-tech phone.

I’d lost a few amenities, but gained a little piece of mind. But the message still left me a nervous wreck.

The first person I texted with the new number was Everett. It took me several minutes to figure out how to work the letters; I’d grown so used to the touch screen on my smartphone.

< Hey this is Lacey, I got a new number today. >

< What happened with the old one? >

Telling him that I thought I was being stalked sounded overly dramatic.

< Phone fell into the toilet. >

It was an outright lie and I felt bad, but kept going.

< Getting the new number was easier. >

It was early afternoon, and the summer heat was beating down on me. My bike felt a little wobbly, like the tires were low, and I stopped at a gas station to get some air. My shift at the grocery store was later today than usual, which threw off my regular schedule. Thankfully, my other job had cut my hours down enough that I didn’t even work there today, but it felt weird sleeping in so late on a weekday. It also made the ride into work much warmer.

I stowed my bike and quickly clocked in, moving toward the checking aisles. There were several open lines for me to choose from, but I saw Clare wave me over to hers. The normally happy girl wasn’t smiling today, and as I came up to her she said, “Someone was looking for you earlier. A blond boy, do you know him?”

My horrified stare must have confirmed her suspicions, because she frowned. “I knew it was suspicious! He asked Rob about you first, and then tried flirting with me. We weren’t busy at the time so I didn’t know how to get him to leave without being rude. He wanted to know if you came in today.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said you were off for most of this week. He seemed to accept that but still tried to get my number until I got customers. Even then, he stuck around for a long time like he was waiting for me to notice him, but he finally left when we got busy.”

Considering most people were easily taken in by Macon’s charm and looks, Clare’s reaction surprised me. My stomach roiled with the knowledge that he had tracked me down at work. I knew he wouldn’t give up right away, but coupled with his threats I was freaked out now. “Clare,” I murmured when the customers were out of earshot again, “don’t get involved with him. Please.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, but what’s wrong? Is he your boyfriend?”

“I think he’s stalking me.”

The words sounded pretentious on my tongue, overly dramatic and strange. I worried Clare would shrug it off but she gave me a horrified look that spoke volumes. Whatever she was going to say had to wait until after she rang up the people in her line. My gut churned, and I felt like I was going to be sick.

“Have you told anyone?” she murmured when the line finally disappeared.

I shook my head. “Just you.” Even though I’d said the words, I didn’t believe it. Why would anyone do that to
me
?

“How bad is it?”

“Not good.” The voice mails echoed through my mind. “Really not good.”

“At least tell Rob. He didn’t seem to appreciate that guy hanging around.”

I swallowed. Was Macon going to get me fired from my job? “He wouldn’t understand.”

“He has to, they have laws against these kinds of things!”

We grew quiet again as more customers came into the line. One thing I was coming to like about Clare was she understood boundaries and discretion. So many of my coworkers wouldn’t have kept the news to themselves. Gossip was rampant, made worse by this being such a small community. Clare was new to the area so either she wasn’t like that, or hadn’t yet tapped into the rumor mill.

“Ms. St. James? Can I speak with you for a moment?”

Rob motioned me away from earshot. I shared a worried look with Clare before following him toward the exit. He waited until we were alone before speaking. “There was a gentleman looking for you earlier.”

“Yes, Clare told me.” I felt suddenly breathless.
Please don’t fire me, please don’t fire me
.

“We have rules about keeping personal business free from work. Did you know this man?”

I nodded mutely. Rob peered closely at me. “Is there anything I should know about?”

My mouth opened and shut. Glancing over at Clare, I saw her watching us, and she pointed emphatically toward Rob. When he turned to see what I was looking at, she quickly turned back to her register.

Rob wasn’t a bad supervisor. As long as someone didn’t screw up big-time or need attention, he generally left us alone. I couldn’t be sure how close he was with Mrs. Holloway, however, or how he would react with my news. It seemed too unreal that this was happening to me; if I couldn’t believe it myself, why would anyone else?

“Ms. St. James?”

Unable to speak, I just shook my head. He frowned at me, and then sighed. “Please tell your friend to limit his time with you to when you’re not working. I don’t see the point in telling Mrs. Holloway, but consider this a first warning.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Thank you, sir.”

“Well?” Clare asked when I rejoined her line. “Did you tell him?” When I shook my head, she gave me a disbelieving look. “Fine, then I’ll tell him.”

“Clare,
no
.” While I appreciated her trying to defend me, I couldn’t let her do it. “I’ll be okay.”

“Well, what if you’re not?” she hissed, obviously irritated. When I drew back, she let out a breath. “I’m not mad at you, I just …”

She couldn’t seem to figure out how to finish her sentence, and then we had customers. I busied myself with my job, and Clare didn’t ask me any more about it. When she quit her shift an hour later, I watched to make sure she didn’t go talk to Rob, but she walked right out the door without even looking at me.

It felt weird to have someone try and stick up for me. I used to think I could handle myself, but lately life had spun out of my control. There was no support from home; strangers had my back more than my own family.

I tried to hang on for my full shift, but two hours later I was a nervous wreck. I kept watching for any sign of Macon, and couldn’t keep my mind on the job. When a large jar of pickled eggs slipped out of my hands and shattered on the floor, I knew I was done. After cleaning up the mess, I told Rob that I wasn’t feeling well, and since we weren’t busy he let me go for the evening.

It was still light out when I left, and I had no desire to go home yet. I also desperately didn’t want to be alone. If I’d had Clare’s phone number, I might have called her, but we weren’t that close yet. I had a handful of numbers in my new phone, but only one that I actually wanted to talk to.

< What are you up to? >

There was a moment’s wait for the reply.

< Just got off work. Why? >

< You want to hang out? >

There was a longer pause this time, and I instantly regretted even asking. God, I didn’t even know this boy; he was a total stranger, not even from around here. Everything told me that this was silly, that I shouldn’t be trusting anyone I didn’t—

The phone buzzed in my hand.

< Where should I pick you up? >

I debated what to tell him.
Never mind, I was just kidding. Haha, fooled you
. I clicked the Reply button, and then slowly typed out my location before pressing Send.

His answer was immediate.

< I’ll be there in ten. >

* * *

He was there in six.

Standing up from the curb, I stared at his car for a few seconds, then opened the door and climbed inside. “Hi,” I murmured, staring straight ahead.

“Hi.”

There was an awkwardness now that had never been there in texts, as if being together physically had put up a wall of some kind. I almost wished I could whip out my phone and have us talk that way now in the car, but that would be silly.

“Where to?”

I looked over to see him studying me, his face placid. It made me nervous, so I turned and stared straight ahead. “I’m hungry.”

“You like ice cream?” When I nodded, Everett shifted the car into gear and we pulled away from the store. I stared straight ahead the whole way but we didn’t go far, probably less than a mile before pulling off into another strip mall. Everett stepped out of the car, and after a brief pause I follow suit.

Johnson’s Dairy had been in this town, in one way or another, for longer than I’d been alive. After Katrina came through, it had downsized a bit, moving into the strip mall farther inland, but was still considered a local hot spot. “How’d you learn about this place?” I asked.

“Trent likes coming here for lunch. When you’re working outside all day in the middle of summer, ice cream sounds like manna from heaven.”

The place was as packed as usual, but the line was quick. Johnson’s mixed up whatever combination of ice cream and sides that you wanted, as long as it all fit inside the cone or cup. Everett paid for our ice cream—I got chocolate with a brownie and caramel while Everett had a cone of plain vanilla and almonds—and we found a small table inside. “So how long have you lived here?”

“Since I was fifteen.” I spooned the soft edges of the ice cream and let the coolness melt against 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.”