Try Not to Breathe (24 page)
Nicki sat silent, her face flushing every time I looked at her. A wisp of hair blew across her cheek, and I wanted to brush it away.
“Want to take a walk?” I asked her. I hadn’t thought her face could get redder, but it did then.
“Yes.”
We said good-bye to the others and took the path that led to my house. As soon as we were alone, she said, “I’m really sorry I lied to you.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry you lost your dad.” After a pause: “You know that what he did wasn’t your fault, right?”
“Most of the time I know it.”
“Well, it’s true. It was him, not you.”
“Thanks,” she said, so softly I almost missed it.
I rubbed my tongue against the roof of my mouth, looking for any moisture, anything to help get the next words out.
“What?” she said, and I shook my head. She stopped then, so I stopped, too, and we faced each other. Mostly what I wanted to do was touch her, her arm or maybe her back, the way she’d touched me on the deck.
I didn’t know exactly what we were to each other, but I didn’t have to stick a label on it yet, either. I needed Val’s shadow to fade more before I could be sure, but I thought I knew what I would find when it did fade. I willed my hand to move, and for a second it seemed like the pane of glass was back, blocking me, but my hand twitched. And even though my arm was stiff and heavy, I managed to lift it and rest my hand on Nicki’s shoulder. I ran my thumb along the seam in her shirt. She touched the back of my neck, rubbed the cool skin where water seeped down from my hair. “You’re shivering,” she said.
“I know.”
My hand shook, but I wasn’t numb. I felt the roughness of the fabric and the warmth of her body, the slight rise her shoulder made with every breath. I realized I wasn’t the only one shivering. We leaned into each other, and I bent to rest my forehead against hers. Scared as I was to be that close to her, I stayed there, my skin touching hers. I didn’t move away.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks to everyone at the Curtis Brown agency, especially Ginger Knowlton and Anna Umansky; and to the crew at Viking and Penguin, especially Leila Sales. I am grateful for the guidance provided by Catherine Frank and Nathan Bransford. I appreciate not only the outstanding professional skills of everyone mentioned here, but also the fact that they are a joy to work with.
A big
thank-you
to the critiquers who helped me improve this book: Tracy Dickens, Jessica Dimuzio (VMD), Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban, Laurel Garver, Colleen Rowan Kosinski, and Molly Lorenz. I greatly appreciate the support and friendship of fellow writers Lisa Brackmann, Angela De Groot, Kelly Fineman, and Julia Hoban. A group hug goes to the communities who have helped me so much: Debut2009, the Tenners, the 2k classes, the Milestones Critique Circle of Chestnut Hill, and the Kidlit Authors Club. Thanks to gracious writing-retreat hosts James and Martha Bosco. I acknowledge with gratitude that R.E.M. inspired this book’s title.
Loving thanks to my family and friends, especially my parents, Jim and Cheryl; my sister, Bonnie; my grandmothers, Dorothy and Jane; and my stepson, Will. Most of all, to my husband, John: deepest love and thanks for always being there, and for always being wonderful.
Finally, for those who need to hear this: things
can
get better. They can even start getting better today.
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