Just Breathe Read Online Free Page A

social butterfly, but with everyone coming to me instead. We share little moments beside the stove, separated from the party in the other room. It’s more intimate and definitely more my style. After a while I feel way more comfortable going into the party having met nearly everyone already. Side note, it helps me weed out people whose voices irritate my synaesthesia.
    “So.” I watch them pass the joint back and forth a few times. “What are you going to do to celebrate your painting selling? How about we go all out, you guys have a mad bong session, we can order some food...” I pause at the careful expression on Nick’s face.
    He looks at Kennedy and back to me. “I already made plans to go out to that new club ‘Treachery.’” Apropos name.
    “Oh.” My pity party is cut short as I see the genuine regret on his face. “Of course, it’s okay. Go—have a blast! Kennedy wanted me to fit a pattern anyways.”
    “Actually, I’m not really going to have time tonight. I’m going too.” She makes a regretful face. “We were waiting for you to get back, before taking off to dinner and the club with everyone.”
    I was a bit late tonight, having stopped at the ATM after work. And everyone’s going out to celebrate. Everyone except me. Another Saturday night alone because of my stupid condition making clubs unbearable.
    “Ah. That’s okay, we can always do it another time.”
    “You sure?”
    “It’s fine.” I fake a smile a bit too well—they look relieved and rush off to finish getting ready. I swirl the glass of wine in my hand. A couple sips left which I dawdle over.
    By the time I’m done, Nick and Kennedy are gone. The house is silent. If I’d told them the truth all along about Jason and me they would have stayed and I wouldn’t be alone. They’d know why I need friends around me. But then they would have felt bad and Nick’s celebration would be marred by my truth, and I don’t want that. Besides, it’s not like it just happened. It would be weird for everyone to drop their celebration for a months-old dull ache.
     

Chapter Four
     
    Some days just belong to children. One runs up and down the short aisles of the children’s area, shouting monosyllabic nonsense. It’s not only me who feels twitchy and murderous from the sounds chirping from the boy; everyone is glaring at the mother. Based on her immunity to the piercing shrieks, I can only assume the woman next to the little boy is the mother. My eyes feel like they’re going to explode.
    Getting a kid to be quiet in a library is like herding cats. Jan gives me a look. I quirk an eyebrow and head over to the kid. I make sure my nametag is prominently displayed for the mother’s sake; my cause will be harder if she mistakes me for a crazy baby snatcher. It’s only happened once—but once was more than enough. Honestly, you try to recommend a book to a kid and... well, never mind.
    I nod and smile at the mother as I pass her, not that she notices. Slowing my pace, moving on my tiptoes, I squat down in front of the boy who, thankfully, ceases his squawks.
    “Hi,” I whisper. “My name is Elle. What’s your name?”
    “Jacob!” He taps a book with his hand as he swings his shoulders back and forth.
    “I see.” I whisper a bit softer. “Can you tell me how old you are Jacob?”
    “I’m four,” he replies, quieter than before. Psychology 101, bitches. “Why are you whispering?”
    “Well, we have to whisper because the books are sleeping,” I say in a stroke of genius.
    “But it’s before supper!”
    “They woke up extra early.”
    “Oh. I got up really early once—” I put my finger to my lips and hiss a shhh . His voice had risen with excitement.
    “— Shhh ,” he mimics and continues in a lower voice. “I got up really early once cuz, because we were going to Auntie’s house. Are the books going to their auntie’s house?”
    “Well, some of the books will stay, and some are going to other people’s houses.