Breathe by Elena Dillon Page A

I opened the text, my stomach felt like it hit the ground.
    Did you like your flowers? You and I were meant to be together…
    My heart started pounding, but I made myself breathe. I dropped my phone. Crap. I tried to pick it up, but my fingers weren’t cooperating. The sides of my vision started to go a little dark. Breathe, dammit! I was not going to faint in the bathroom stall over a stupid text. I dropped it again, and the back popped off. It took a little doing to get it back on because my hands were shaking so bad. Once it turned back on, I looked to see who it was from.
    Blocked.
    Not unexpected. No need to panic. This could be anyone. It could be some weirdo messing with me, even though my number changed. I think people would be shocked to know how easy it is to get someone’s cell phone number. Actually, it’s rather easy to come by just about anyone’s personal information. This we had learned quickly in the months after the murder.
    I couldn’t respond or track the number, so I was going to ignore it for now. I closed my phone and put it back in my pocket. I made myself breathe slow and steady. I closed my eyes and counted to twenty. I was still not convinced there was a problem. A lot of weird stuff had happened before we left LA. I had learned not to make hard-and-fast decisions in the last couple of years. Thinking about what you do before you do it is better. I probably overanalyzed everything, but better that than being impulsive. I didn’t like where impulsive could end up. I took a deep breath. I was still a little shaky, but that would stop soon.
    When I left the stall, the girls were waiting for me already. I smiled at them and went to wash my hands. I wasn’t going to let them see me have an anxiety attack. I couldn’t let fear get the best of me. As we all tromped back to our seats, I was feeling better. Compartments were my friends.
    I did get a call from my mom later in the game, but they hadn’t come. Lily had a cough, and Mom had thought it better to keep her home. The three of them were having a Scrabble tournament. She had already talked to Julia’s mom on the phone, while we were getting ready. It was fine if I wanted to spend the night, but I needed to be home by ten a.m. tomorrow to help around the house with chores. Fortunately, that resolved how I was going to get away with going to the diner with Easton.
    It isn’t that I didn’t want to tell my mom because I thought she would say no. It was really because I didn’t know where the whole thing was going. I needed to be able to tell her in a controlled setting and explain what was going on. If I just called and said he wanted to take me to the diner, she’d switch into instant Overprotective Mom mode. Since the girls had said they would go too, I wasn’t really going to be out with him without supervision. The girls, of course, wanted to observe the “date” for later consultation. I wasn’t sure if having them there would make me more nervous or less. My life was going from uncomplicated to complicated very quickly.
    As the game was nearing its conclusion, we were ahead by seven points, so there was still some pressure on. I was screaming myself hoarse. Easton made a long pass, and I held my breath. Our receiver made a beautiful catch and ran it in for a touchdown. Everyone in the crowd went nuts. The kicker made the extra point with less than three seconds left on the clock, and we had our first win of the football season.
    I realized, as I was jumping up and down and screaming, that I was starting to feel like a part of something. I was starting to blend and meld into a student of my new high school. It felt really good. If I didn’t think about all those compartments that were starting to line up, life was looking pretty good.

Chapter 5
    As we moved out of the bleachers, my stomach started to flutter. Everyone was talking about the game, going to the diner, and who was riding with whom. The girls decided to meet me there