Room to Breathe

Chapter 34 Then

Then

Winter Break was the loneliest two weeks of my life. Cody and his family went out of town and he only texted me twice. Once after I texted him Merry Christmas and once to send me a picture of a dead rat that his grandma’s cat had caught with the words: Sick, right?

I wasn’t sure if he meant cool or gross.

Cody said nothing about the news story, which made me think he hadn’t seen it, and I didn’t feel like telling him. I had already had to start avoiding whispers (and more than whispers) at school.

My family didn’t do much for Christmas. It was a quiet morning of exchanging small gifts. We never had over-the-top Christmases. And this year, with everything, it felt even smaller than usual.

But I made it to January.

Cody was back and I was able to shut things out easier when he was around. We were sitting on the couch at his grandma’s house, watching New Girl.

“This week is both Ava’s and Beau’s birthdays,” I said. My mind had been wandering, not paying attention to the episode.

“What?” Cody asked.

The volume on the television was loud, and he didn’t turn it down.

“Ava and Beau. They have birthdays this week. Ava’s was yesterday and Beau’s is tomorrow.

” Which meant today they would be doing the friend dinner we always did.

In Between, we called it. The day their families couldn’t claim them for plans because it wasn’t their actual birthdays.

Maybe they wouldn’t do it this year because I wasn’t there.

Maybe it would feel weird to celebrate In Between without me.

I was generally the one who organized it.

“Who?” Cody asked.

“My friends. Well, my…” I wasn’t sure what to call them anymore. It had been weeks since I’d talked to any of them. “People.”

“Your people?” he asked. The television was still blaring and we were both having to yell to converse.

I picked up the remote and pressed pause.

He must’ve thought that meant we were making out now, because he leaned in.

That’s what it usually meant. Press pause, make out.

I’d Pavlov-ed him without realizing it, apparently.

This time I put my hands on his chest, stopping our lips from touching. He backed away, obviously confused.

“I just wanted to talk without the television on for a minute.”

“Oh,” he said, then waited for me to proceed.

But now that he was staring at me expectantly, I didn’t know what to say. What else was there to say about their birthdays? “When’s your birthday?” I asked.

“July,” he said.

“Mine is in May,” I responded. “I thought my parents were going to get me a car for this birthday.”

“Are you fifteen?” he asked.

“No,” I said, then pointed to the window. “I drive, remember?”

“Oh, right,” he said.

“They didn’t last year, though, and then I started saving money, so I thought this year they were going to.” I thought it would be a fun memory. A car in the driveway with a big bow on it or something. But instead my mom had done it on a whim behind my dad’s back.

“I got a longboard for my birthday,” he said.

“I’ve never seen you ride a longboard.”

“I do sometimes,” he said. “Wanna see it?”

“Sure,” I said.

He stood and pulled me to my feet, then led me to the back of the house and into his bedroom. He opened the closet and pulled out a longboard that had a red dragon on the underside. Its wheels were red as well. “Sick, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I like it.”

He put it on the carpet and stood on top of it, pretending to ride.

“Should I make them a cake?” I asked. If they hadn’t planned anything today for In Between, maybe that would be a good bridge. An olive branch. Did I want to extend a peace offering? Did I want peace? The pit in my stomach told me I did.

“Make who a cake?” Cody asked.

“My people. For their birthdays.”

“I like cake.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. He chuckled and then typed something back.

I was going to break up with him (were we together?). I wasn’t sure when, but I was. The thought of having nobody right now kept me from saying anything. Maybe that made me a horrible person, but I hadn’t felt like a good person lately regardless.

“I have to go,” I said.

He jumped off his board and tucked his phone away. Then he wrapped me in a hug. “Don’t be jealous, it was just April.”

I had no idea who April was. “I’m not,” I said, which was true. I actually wished I was jealous. It would mean I had more feelings invested in this than I did. Maybe I had no feelings to invest in anything at the moment. I’d been angry for months.

He pressed his lips to mine, sliding his tongue into my mouth. I responded, kissing him back. Beau’s eyes flashed through my brain and I gasped and pulled back.

“What?” Cody asked.

“Nothing, I need to go.”

I made two small cakes. Both said Happy (In Between) Birthday on top. Well, that was what they were supposed to say. Writing with frosting was hard. If I squinted and used context clues, that was exactly what they said.

I drove to Ava’s first, but her car wasn’t parked out front where it normally was, so I kept driving until I got to Beau’s.

Ava’s car wasn’t there either. Beau’s was, sitting in front of the third garage door in the driveway.

I parked across the street and one house over, trying to decide how I was going to do this.

Should I just knock on the door? His parents loved me.

Would they be surprised to see me? I thought about the news story that had just come out.

Would they confront me about that like some of the people at school had?

One girl I didn’t know at all had asked me if my dad was going to jail. I didn’t know how to respond. I just put my head down and kept walking.

Mrs. Dulaney, my calculus teacher, had stared at me like she wanted to ask me the same question, like she now understood why I had cheated on my test—because I was the daughter of a cheater. But she hadn’t said anything. Maybe she hadn’t seen the news story and it was all in my head.

I’d just leave the cake on the porch.

Yes, I liked that option better. But if I was going to do that, I wanted to leave a note.

I had no idea what to say. What was my goal with this? I freed a notepad and pen from my glove box and stared at a blank piece of paper for entirely too long.

Beau,

Happy birthday. I didn’t forget.

I mi—

My pen stopped short when I heard car doors slamming.

I looked up to see Ava’s car stopped in front of Beau’s house.

Caroline, Ava, and Beau had all climbed out and were walking up to his front door.

Around both Beau’s and Ava’s wrists was a balloon.

They were all laughing about something, but I was too far away to hear them.

I cracked my window but could only make out the sound of laughter, not any words.

They stopped on the front porch. I thought they were going to go inside, but instead they all smashed together in a hug; then Caroline and Ava waved goodbye and walked back to the car with big smiles on their faces.

I crouched down in the front seat as they made a U-turn and drove right by me.

The notepad still sat in my lap, and I stared at it after they were gone.

They’d celebrated without me. Didn’t even pause for a second on the porch to mourn the loss of their missing friend.

I tossed the notepad onto the floor mat of the passenger seat and started the car.

The window in Beau’s room on the second floor lit up.

For a fleeting moment I thought about taking the cake and throwing it at his window.

Or smashing it into his car’s windshield.

I didn’t. That made me a slightly decent person, didn’t it?

I drove straight to the beach, where I found a bench at the edge of the parking lot and sat on it with my cake.

The sun had already set, but I sat in the dark and watched the whitecapped waves crash in the distance.

I ate several bites of cake with my fingers, then fed several more to a curious squirrel.

A couple of seagulls joined our party and ate some cake as well.

After one more bite, I threw the rest onto the ground and watched the frenzy.

It was windy and my hair whipped across my face and into my eyes.

I was glad for the wind; it let my brain think that was why my eyes were watering.

The porch light was off when I got home, but as I stepped inside, the television glowed in the otherwise dark room. My dad was sitting on the couch, his face tinged blue from the light on the screen. He looked over when I shut the door behind me.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” I responded, locking the door. My instinct was to run for the stairs, avoid anything more than our neutral greeting. My mom must’ve been in bed.

“Come sit down for a minute,” he said, pausing his show.

I didn’t want to sit down. I was tired of talking around his problems.

“I want to hear about you,” he said. When I didn’t move, he added, “Or we can just watch TV in silence.”

I set my purse on the floor by the door and joined him on the couch, my eyes zeroing in on the paused image on the screen. It looked like some sort of documentary.

“How was In Between this year?”

My head whipped over to his.

I’d made the cakes in the kitchen earlier, but neither he or Mom had been home. I cleaned up after myself, so I didn’t think that was why he knew. He just remembered.

“That’s today, right?” he asked. “What did you guys do?”

I took a sniffling breath in through my nose and the tears came unbidden.

“Indy?” he said, concern in his eyes. “Talk to me.”

I collapsed onto his lap, burying my head into the crook of my elbow. His hand went to my shoulder.

“They’re not my friends anymore,” I blubbered, not sure if any of my words were understandable.

“Oh, baby,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I cried harder, wondering if he had something to be sorry about, or if this was all his partner’s fault. I didn’t want to ask him again. I wanted to believe he was who I thought he was. Who he’d always been. My funny, thoughtful, loving dad.