Chapter 30
Rayne
I Can’t Breathe—Bea Miller
I’m not going outside to make a phone call. I’m going outside because I can’t breathe. I don’t know what to do or what I want. I need Mom. I need her to tell me what to do about Easton, to help me with the rest of my damn life. But mostly with Easton.
When he looks at me, I can’t think anymore. My mind just goes blank, and all I can see are his blue eyes and his lips. I want him to pull me close and kiss me.
God, what’s wrong with me? Why am I like this? Why can’t I stop thinking about kissing him? He’s my best friend. I told him that I don’t want more, but I’m still thinking about him all the time. I have to stop, but I can’t. Why can’t I?
My hands tremble as I scroll through the contacts on my phone.
I pause when I come to Mom’s name. I never deleted her number, or Dad’s.
I want to call her so badly it hurts. The pain is still there, every time my heart beats, but now .
. . in this moment it feels like it’s going to tear me apart from the inside.
The black hole in my chest is trying to devour me, and I’m so close to just letting it.
My whole body trembles. I bite my lower lip until I taste blood to suppress the sobs. I don’t think about it as I tap on her contact, I just do it. I freeze as I hear her voice. Cheerful. Carefree. Alive.
“Hi, this is Laura. I’m not available right now. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you later.”
My heart stands still. One second, two, three. Then it starts beating again, much too fast. I hear a rushing sound in my ears, but it’s her voice, it’s still there. It was there the whole time; I just never called her. I could have heard her, but I never tried.
There’s a beep, and I should hang up.
I must.
But I can’t.
“Mom.” My voice breaks. It’s so wrong, what I’m doing.
Hang up. End the call, damn it. “Mom, I don’t know what to do.
You always told me what I should do when I couldn’t figure it out.
You have to help me. You have to tell me how it feels to be in love, because I have no goddamn clue, okay?
I don’t know how it goes, or how you’re supposed to feel, or if it’s normal that I want to kiss my best friend.
How does it all work? What should I do, Mom?
Am I making a mistake? And if I am, is it when I let him be more than just my best friend, or is it when I don’t?
You have to tell me! You know these things!
You and Dad . . . you were perfect! You have to tell me what to do! ”
I gasp for air. My throat is tight. God, I have to stop this. Instead, I start walking, continuing down the narrow alley behind the studio. There’s no one else here, but even if there were, I wouldn’t care. I’ve started talking and now I can’t stop.
“You should be here, Mom! You and Dad! You should be here helping me. But you’re dead, and I have to manage on my own, and I’m so . . . shit, I’m so angry!” An incredulous laugh escapes me as I suddenly realize that it’s true.
I’m sad. I feel lost. But I’m also angry. So incredibly angry.
“Why did you have to go to that stupid party? Why didn’t you come home earlier?
Or later? Why did you have to decide to leave at exactly that time?
Why didn’t you drive home the normal way?
Why did you take that damn detour? Why, Mom?
Why couldn’t you just come back home to me?
Why—” I stop when there’s a beep at the other end.
The call is over.
Just like that.
No, no, no!
I wasn’t done. There is so much I have left to say. So much that I have to get off my chest, even though she’ll never hear it and will never answer.
A hoarse scream escapes from my throat, frustrated, sad, and destroyed. I cling so hard to my phone that the edges dig deep into my palm. I hardly feel it. All I can feel is this tension inside me, this unbearable pain that’s tearing me apart. Every day. Every minute. Every second.
Underneath it all is this burning anger that I’ve suppressed and refused to acknowledge. Until now.
“Rayne?”
At the sound of Easton’s voice behind me, I close my eyes. My heart is pounding against my ribs so hard it hurts.
The fury takes my breath away.
I can’t breathe again.
Why won’t it stop? Why won’t it ever stop?