Holding My Breath

Holding My Breath

Susan Soares

Copyright 2015 Susan Soares

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

This book is also available in print at most online retailers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

License Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover design by Christa of Paper and Sage.

Woman by ProStockStudio | shutterstock.com

Blue ocean waves by digiart | depositphotos.com

Tail by schankz | depositphotos.com

This book is dedicated to my daughters. Sophia, Emma, and Lily, this one’s for you girls. ALWAYS believe in yourself and your dreams!

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ALSO BY SUSAN SOARES

CHAPTER ONE

All I could think about were Popsicles. The current of the undertow sucked me down for a second time, and all my brain kept thinking about were cherry Popsicles. It was the last thing Leyla had said to me before I decided to head into the water.

I’m going to get a cherry Popsicle. What do you want? she’d said to me after fixing the wedgie her white and pink striped bikini had given her.

Nothing, I replied while dusting sand off the bottom of my black and white one-piece bathing suit. I think I’m going to head out into the water. I grabbed my green kneeboard and stood facing the ocean. The wild waters called to me.

Okay, but be careful. They’ve posted signs about the strong undertows, so don’t go too far, Leyla warned before heading off to get her Popsicle. Leyla was lactose intolerant, and I always felt bad eating chocolate-covered ice cream bars around her while she was stuck with Popsicles. She claimed she loved them, but come on, who would really choose a Popsicle over ice cream?

I held my breath as the water pulled me under for a third time. As I sank below, part of me wondered if I’d ever make it back out. The beach had been nearly empty when I’d left it. Leyla was sure to be gone at least five minutes. The sound of water rushed through my ears, and I felt my mind wander into a drifting state. This had been a stupid idea.

Without warning, I felt something cinch around my waist. My body was thrust upwards and warm air broke across my face as I was pulled to the surface. I coughed and flailed about momentarily as I scanned my surroundings. Someone had his strong arm wrapped around me and was pulling me to shore. My exhausted body did little to help him in his rescue efforts as he swam us both back to shore. My brain scrambled for coherent thoughts, but none were surfacing. As my body bobbed through the ocean, I stared at the back of my hero. He had broad shoulders, the kind that came from being an avid swimmer, which he no doubt was. I focused on the back of his head. His wet hair, which looked jet black, curled up slightly at the ends. There was a parting of his hair at the back of his neck that revealed an anchor tattoo. My left hand rose limply as I wanted to touch it, but before I could, I felt my feet make contact with squishy sand.

Shelby! I heard Leyla scream through my waterlogged ears.

Each of my arms wrapped around a set of shoulders, and I kept my eyes focused on the dry sand up ahead. First my knees hit the sand, then my hands, then the side of my face. My body was rolled over so I was on my back, and I stared up into Leyla’s tear-filled eyes.

Are you all right? she asked.

Turning my head slowly from side to side, I took in the sights of various strangers who had come to my aid. All wanting to see the freak show who had almost drowned. Scanning through the crowd, the one person I couldn’t find was the swimming wonder who’d pulled me to safety.

Where’d he go? I asked as I pulled myself up onto my elbows.

Leyla put her hand on my back to support me. Who?

I ran a sand-covered hand through my hair and wondered how long it would take me to wash all the grit out of it. The guy, the guy who pulled me out. Again my eyes scanned through the faces, then to the beach, then to the water, then to the horizon. He was gone. Vanished.

Oh, I don’t know, Leyla said as she craned her neck side to side. Thank God he was out there though! What did I tell you about the undertow? Her pitch was high as she pinched my arm.

Ow! I know, I know. I rubbed the spot she’d pinched, even though it didn’t really hurt.

Her hands flung to her hips. I go to get a Popsicle, and you swim out into the ocean after I told you that it wasn’t safe? What were you thinking? Shelby, you could’ve gotten yourself killed! Why would you do that?

They were all valid questions. All questions I had the answers to. All points I wasn’t going to address at the current moment. All things I didn’t want to face.

I shrugged sheepishly. I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking that’s all. I gave her my best don’t-be-mad-at-me smile, and as I did I saw her face soften.

Her hands released their grip on her hips and she helped me to a standing position. You’re lucky you’re my best friend, she said while wiping sand off my arms.

I know I am.

She grabbed my towel and handed it to me. Now come with me so I can buy you an ice cream.

We linked arms together and walked—slowly—off the beach. My head turned back one last time to search for the jet-haired swimmer, but all that stared back at me the menacing waves of the ocean. Then a shiver ran up and down my spine.

***

As I walked into my house, I saw my mother’s profile standing in the kitchen. I’d wanted to sneak in unsuspected because I wasn’t in the mood to talk, but somehow every time I tried to be extra quiet I always managed to be extra loud. My body flinched as the sound of my keys hit the hardwood floor.

Shelby, please don’t track sand all through the house. Rinse your feet off with the hose.

But the hose water is freezing! I whined. I didn’t mean to, but I did.

My mother sighed. It takes two seconds. Now go. She flailed an arm at me in a shooing motion.

Rolling my eyes, I backtracked out the front door and to the side of the house where the hose was. The water trickled out in a slow, icy stream washing the remnants of my day at the beach off and into the grass. My chest tightened for a moment as I relived the feeling of being underwater again. The sounds…the water…the black-haired boy.

Don’t forget to dry your feet off when you come in. My mother’s voice snapped me back into the moment.

She was standing a few feet away from me. Her shoulder-length blond hair was clipped up into a French twist. She was wearing a new, navy pencil skirt with a white, button-down blouse. She held her navy clutch purse tightly under her left arm. She looked beautiful. I felt bad for being so mad at her. But I couldn’t help it.

Did you hear what I said? she asked me, cocking her right eyebrow up high.

Dry my feet off. Got it. I huffed and turned the hose off.

She advanced a few steps towards me. Still mad at me, huh? her tone was soft. The kind of tone that if I didn’t keep my head on straight would make me cry.

For fear of my voice cracking, I didn’t speak. I just shrugged as I stared at the lilac bushes that lined the side of the house.

Her tone remained soft. You know, moving isn’t the end of the world. You have to think of it like an adventure—not a death sentence.

Whatever, was all I could trust myself to say.

A long, exaggerated sigh wheezed out of her like a tire slowly deflating. Well, I’m on my way to a dinner meeting so you’re on your own. There’s twenty dollars on the counter if you want to order a pizza or something. No company while I’m gone though. She started to turn but then shifted so she was facing me again. She took a few long strides, bringing her only about a foot away from me. And honey, I know it’s hot out and everything, but could you please wear the normal tank tops I bought you. I hate these spaghetti strap things, she said while gliding one of the thin, pink straps of my top through her hand. It’s kind of cheap looking. She squeezed my shoulder and turned. A wave of her floral, signature perfume made a cloud around me.

A wash of anger rose from my toes all the way up to my temples. I wanted to grab my kneeboard and head back to the ocean and see how far the current could take me out this time. But the strained feeling in my chest made me think better of it. Instead, I dragged my wet feet, along with the rest of me, back into the house. I grabbed my phone and made two calls. One to order a large cheese pizza with pepperoni and pineapple. And the other to Leyla to invite her over because drowning my sorrows in pizza was no fun alone.

***

You’re such a rebel, Leyla said as she grabbed the second to last slice of pizza.

I rolled over on the couch and tossed my last piece of crust inside the box. Not really. I mean, I don’t consider you ‘company’ as my mom puts it. I blew her a kiss. You’re much more like family.

Awwwww, Leyla said, catching the pretend kiss in the air and slapping it on her cheek. You’ll forget all about me when you’re gone. She took a bite of pizza, and the mozzarella cheese made a long, stringy line from the pizza to her mouth.

I shot up from the couch. I will not! I’ll never forget you! Hot tears formed at the back of my eyes.

Leyla dropped her pizza inside the box and stood up. Hey, hey I was just kidding. She moved closer to me and put a hand on my shoulder. We’ll always be BFFs no matter where you are. Her sparkling blue eyes washed comfort over me, if only for a brief moment.

I can’t do this, I moaned before plopping my body back onto the couch.

Leyla plopped down next to me. Yes you can. You’ll see. It won’t be that bad. She took her shoulder length, honey colored hair and fastened it into a low ponytail.

It was easy for Leyla. Easy for her to say everything was going to be fine. She wasn’t the one moving away from everything and everyone she’d ever known.

It was only three weeks ago when my mom made the big announcement. And that was only three months after she and my dad got divorced. He moved to the other side of country with the woman he’d apparently been dating for the past two years. My mom had never liked our house very much. She always said it was too much house for her. It was pretty big just for the three of us. Well, most of the time is was just the two of us as my dad was out of town for work a lot. He was always on extended business trips—which, of course, we later found out was all a lie.

So my dad was gone, and it was just me and my mom living in a large Cape style house. Three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, a formal dining room, a den, and a fully finished basement. The reason I always loved this house was that it was a ten-minute walk to the ocean. Even though I wasn’t the world’s best swimmer, and even though the ocean of the east coast was never truly warm, I still loved to be near and in the water. But now everything—in only a matter of months—had changed. My mom got offered a promotion at work, and the catch was that she needed to move. Two hours away from where we lived. Which, when you’re fifteen and two weeks away from starting your second year of high school, feels like you’re moving to a different country. I mean, we were scheduled to move in the weekend before the school year started! I’d never be able to adjust that quickly.

So much had already changed in my life, and I wasn’t sure if I could also handle moving away from everything and everyone that I loved. Maybe it would have been better if that undertow had carried me out to sea. At least there it would be quiet.

No way! Leyla shrieked as she sprung up from the couch.

What? I was so lost in my thoughts part of me felt like I was floating on water.

Leyla turned to me, her eyes all sparkly and glowing. Marc Ballard is having a party this Friday. Sort of an adios-summer type of thing.

Cool, I said knowing that Leyla had been crushing on Marc for the past year but had always been too shy to talk to him.

It gets better. It’s a costume party! she squealed and starting texting something on her phone. Brandy sent me a text about it. I’m texting her that we’ll both be there. Your mom will let you go, right?

My mom wasn’t big on parties, but seeing how she was moving me to the other side of the world in a few weeks, I felt that she owed me. Yeah, no problem.

Great! Leyla said as her fingers furiously texted. Now, she said placing