Out of Breath (Exposed Series Book 2) (11 page)

My word choice had to be meticulous. I would never have an opportunity
to justify what I’d written or further explain myself. And I hated to think my last
words might be misinterpreted.

But I couldn’t keep putting it off. I was getting sicker every
day. It was like I had whooping cough all the time.

And while it was painful and annoying for me, I could only
imagine how uncomfortable it must’ve been for other people to see a woman
coughing so angrily. It felt like I was trying to cough up the devil. Like I
was knee deep in my own grave.

And I couldn’t risk running out of time. If I didn’t write every
last thing I wanted to say, there was a good chance I would destroy everything.
After all, I couldn’t leave a bunch of unfinished thoughts around to be
analyzed like puzzle pieces. That would just make it look like I was out to
cause more trouble than I already had.

Besides, it had to be complete because that was the whole point.
By leaving my truth behind, I could decide what was remembered about me. I
could be the one to tie up the loose ends and explain my actions.

And while I knew there was a chance no one would give a shit
about the nuggets of wisdom I’d collected or why I made the decisions I did in
my life, that didn’t matter. I would never know anyway.

I still had to do it for myself. For closure. Plus, I needed the
distraction. 

And even though I hadn’t predicted how difficult I would find it
to organize my thoughts, even though my hand was shaking as it hovered over the
blank page, I was sort of excited, too. Because I knew I would never be wiser
than I was then.

And that thought made me laugh at loud.

Which is when the whole thing stopped feeling so daunting. Cause
who was I kidding? Writing down the total sum of my knowledge and worthwhile life
experience wasn’t going to take weeks.

And I certainly wasn’t going to need that much paper.

To say I was excited when Kevin finally asked me to go to a
college party with him would’ve been the biggest understatement of the century.

Turns out, it was a lot like a high school party. Except no one
was worried it was going to get busted, no one had a curfew, and no one had to
check that their outfit was okay with their mom before they left the house. In
fact, I’d never seen so many midriffs and butt cheeks in one place. Not even in
the locker room.

Of course, these things made it about a million times better
than a high school party.

And the people were more interesting, too. They all had “majors”
and “minors” and complete freedom to do what they wanted. I met a few girls who
were raising money for celiac disease and a guy who was trying to develop a new
type of corn that would help feed the third world. A few drinks later I met a
girl that told me she was having the best sex of her life with her fifty year
old English professor. I even had the pleasure of meeting a guy who was
apparently the number one frolfer in the state.

I couldn’t have been more excited if I were visiting Willy
Wonka’s factory… with a golden ticket to purge, obviously. Otherwise that would
be torturous. Speaking of which, there were a surprising number of orange
people there, many of whom might have been attractive if it hadn’t been for their
strange tint.

So between the presence of the Oompa Loompas and the blasting
EDM, it was like another planet.

But honestly, drinking out of that red cup in that filthy frat
house surrounded by more kegs than I’d ever seen made me more excited about the
prospect of going to college than anything ever had. Including the college fair
in my school gymnasium.

Which was nice. Because lately, even though I wanted to go to
college, I’d started to resent the fact that I didn’t really have a choice in
the matter. I was just expected to go. My parents and teachers never talked
about it like it was even an option not to.

And I know I was probably just nervous because I’d recently
finished sending in my applications, but the pressure to get accepted was
intense. Like what if I didn’t get in somewhere? I mean, my grades were good
but shit happens. And the way people talked about it, you’d think your life
just ended if you didn’t go.

I’d heard there were kids in Canada and Europe who took “gap
years” between high school and college to travel and figure out what they
wanted to do with their lives. That sounded cool. But where I came from, if you
didn’t know what you wanted to do, you were just supposed to pick something.
Preferably something that you could either get good grades in or something that
would make it easy to get a job when you graduated. Or both if you were lucky
and clever.

Of course, like most of my classmates, I had no idea what I
wanted to do. And how could I? It’s not like I was born with an obvious desire
to stick my hand up cow’s butts or work on Wall Street or follow in my father’s
footsteps. I mean, my Dad had a fencing company. And while it was great that he
owned his own business and everything, I found the idea of spending my life
constructing walls between people totally depressing.

Still, if going to college was the fast track to partying like
these handsome people, I would pick something, apply myself, and never look
back. After all, I might as well have a good time while I figured out what I
wanted to do with my life.

I didn’t know where Kevin wanted to go to school, but even in a
room full of college kids, I was still drawn to him more than anyone. I was
even hoping that night would be The Night.

I mean, I’d been thinking about him and touching myself for
weeks. So I was getting pretty anxious for the real thing. Plus, I was sure it
would be amazing because all three “conditions for great sex” were in place.

And it didn’t bother me anymore that he wasn’t that popular at
school. The approval of the group didn’t mean as much since I’d realized that the
group wasn’t going to be around for much longer. Everyone would have a clean
slate by next fall whether they wanted one or not.

Plus, Kevin was a man. Or at least, more of a man than anyone
else I’d ever crushed on. That night, he was so attentive. He kept asking if he
could refill my drink and letting his big hand linger on the small of my back.
Which would cause all the heat in my body to go there instantly. And as I fed
myself the drinks he poured me, I only became more enamored of him.

And then I saw her. His ex. She was coming towards us. It was obviously
her by the way she looked at him and then me and then him again. And as she
strode towards us, I couldn't help but feel that her legs were unnecessarily
long. And her beach blonde hair didn’t have a single split end. I was insecure
down to my marrow before she even opened her mouth.

“Kevin!” She gave him a big hug. It was too much. Even he seemed
to think so because he hugged her back without even the hint of a squeeze
before letting his hands fall to his side while he waited for her to let go.

“Hey Jen.”

“Hi.” She stuck her hand out in my direction. “I’m Jen.”

“Kate,” I said, trying to sober up. “Nice to meet you.”

“How do you guys know each other?” she asked, looking back and
forth between us.

I tried to figure out if her eyes were really that sparkly or if
it was a makeup trick that I could rip off. If that kind of sparkle could be
bought, I needed to know.

“From school,” Kevin said.

“Oh.” Jen looked at me again. “You’re still in high school.”

I blushed. “Guilty.”

“I was just about to go upstairs if you guys want to come. Marty
got a new bong. It’s like two feet long.”

“Marty would,” Kevin mumbled.

“Do you smoke?” Jen said to me.

“Of course,” I said too defensively.

“Well you’ve got to see this then.”

I turned towards Kevin.

He shrugged. “Whatever you want to do.”

It just seemed easier to agree. Even though I immediately felt
like I’d made a horrible mistake. I mean, did I really need to see the bong so
bad that it was worth having Kevin in such close proximity to his ex? Was I
some kind of idiot?

As we went upstairs, I was surprised to discover that the party
was going on in parts of the house that I didn’t even know existed. Even the
stairs were littered with people drinking and smoking, ashing right on the
sticky wooden floor. Others were groping each other and making out in corners.
It was a struggle to keep my mouth from hanging open.

When we reached the upstairs, the vibe chilled out a little.
There were still a few people milling around, but it seemed like most people
were behind closed doors having what looked like tiny micro parties.

We followed Jen’s melon ass down the hall (seriously, her jeans
were like spray painted on). Finally, she knocked on what must’ve been the
tenth or twelfth door we came to and then opened it. We followed her inside.

Marty’s room, or at least what I could only assume was Marty’s
room, had a bunk bed, two desks cluttered with enormous books, and a futon in
it. It also featured a broken mini basketball hoop on the back of the door, an
overflowing laundry basket, and a huge flat screen TV.

Marty was sitting on the bottom bunk, loading the biggest bowl
in the biggest smoking device I’d ever seen. Jen sat down between Marty and his
roommate, Todd. Apparently, they were “co-owners” of “The Beast” which is what
they’d decided to call the bong. Because it was big and blue like The Beast in
X-Men.

I said I thought it was a very good name and introduced myself
as Kevin’s friend.

Right after I took a seat beside a cluster of tangled video game
controllers, Marty asked Kevin when he and Jen were getting back together.
Kevin completely ignored the question. And it was obvious that his lack of
enthusiasm hurt Jen’s feelings. Which made me feel kind of bad for her for a
second. But then Kevin put his arm around me, and there was no room for any
feelings besides elation.

While Marty kept packing the bowl, Todd offered everyone drinks
from a mini fridge at the end of the bed. I couldn't help but think that this
must be how the rich and famous live. Just with more expensive drinks and
tidier drinking environments. Still, I was delighted to be living the High Life
and to be offered one in the same moment, and I poured the can right into the
cup I already had.

I just wanted to keep my hands full and blend in. I was worried
that if I called attention to myself, everyone would realize I was an imposter.
I was afraid if I embarrassed myself, someone would ask Kevin why the fuck he
brought me there, and I might get kicked out.

Of course, as soon as people started hitting the bong, I became
even more convinced that was exactly what was going to happen. I didn’t know if
I could inhale that amount of smoke all at once. Those people were like weed
smokers as far as I was concerned. Even Jen. I mean, not only was it a beastly
contraption, you had to be a beast to use it.

By the time the three people on the bottom bunk had smoked it,
the room was a thick cloud and Todd already had his head in his hands.

Marty passed the heavy bong to Kevin and he secured it between
his knees. I watched in awe as he inhaled the smoke and held it in. For a
second I thought he was going to be the first person who didn’t cough until
their eyes watered. But as soon as he started to exhale he put the bong down so
he could turn towards the wall and eject the smoke in big scratchy gusts. 

I swallowed.

Kevin turned to me with bloodshot eyes. “Are you sure you want
to hit this?”

I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t going to chicken out when everyone
else had risen to the challenge.

I nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”

Fortunately, Kevin did what he could to help me out without
calling attention to the fact that we both knew I didn’t know what I was doing.

“I’ll light it for you,” he said. “So you can just focus on
taking a big fat hit.” He smiled at me, and I could tell he was amused that I
was going for it.

“Thanks,” I said. It felt like all eyes were on me, but I didn’t
dare freak myself out by looking up to check. Instead, I tried to pretend it
was only me and Kevin in the room.

I put the open end of the blue shaft around my lips and waited.
As soon as Kevin held the lighter over the bowl, I started inhaling slowly and
watched as the chamber filled with white smoke.

“On three, clear it,” he said. “One, two, three.” He slid the
bowl out of the bong.

I took the biggest breath I’d ever taken in my life, filling my
lungs until every last waft of smoke disappeared inside me. Then I tried to
hold it in for a second and looked at him.

“Good job,” he said, but the expression on his face made me feel
like he knew something I didn’t.

I coughed for the next five minutes until my throat was hoarse.
When I was done, I looked up at the other people in the room. They all looked
pleasantly stoned. But that wasn’t how I felt. I felt dizzy, like the room was
rocking from side to side. Like my brain was shrinking inside my skull.