Drawing Breath by Laurie Boris

Author:Laurie Boris [Boris, Laurie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction, art, novel, contemporary fiction, mother daughter, cystic fibrosis, brother and sister, teen protagonist, teacher and student, crush on teacher
Publisher: Indie Author Project
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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“Caitlin?”

She smiles at the sound of Daniel’s voice. He’d found her, as she knew he would, by following the trail of clothing dropped like breadcrumbs leading to his bed. His odd, beautiful fingers graze her face, her neck, her shoulder. His kisses are soft. His hands slide beneath the blanket…

“What are you doing here?”

Why is his tone suddenly so mean? She doesn’t understand. Can’t he tell how much she loves him?

“Hey, Caitlin,” Daniel says. “Wake up.”

She blinks. Blood rushes into her cheeks when she realizes she’d been dreaming. She’s definitely awake now, lying on her grandmother’s sofa, fully dressed, wrapped in a multicolored afghan.

Daniel stands over her, waiting for an explanation. Behind him is a woman Caitlin has never seen before.

She quickly sits up and pulls the afghan tighter around her body. The woman paces the studio, her heels clicking against the wood floor. The clicks fall into a rhythm with the ticking clock. Caitlin counts ten, twenty, thirty—half a minute none of them would ever get back.

“Is something wrong?” Daniel asks.

It’s the tone he uses when a student misbehaves: the first time. “I just, um, I just came up to get my paints and...” She fast-forwards through a series of plausible excuses. “And I...I heard a noise from downstairs. Outside my window!”

For some reason, he seems to believe her. “It’s probably just the wind. I’ll check it out. Then you should go back downstairs. We don’t want to make your mother worry.”

It had been a stupid excuse. She’s too old to ask adults to check under beds and inside closets, but she couldn’t think of anything else. Feeling ashamed, Caitlin looks away. Click, click. The woman has copper hair and too much makeup. “No, you don’t have to,” Caitlin says.

“Where is your mother, anyway?”

“She’s out with some of the women from the do-gooder squad. They were having dinner and then—”

The clicking stops. “Daniel?”

He turns as if trained to the sound of her voice. Caitlin looks up. The woman, now standing by the window, wraps her arms across an ample chest and drums the fingers of her left hand against her right upper arm. A wedding ring glints against the field of her white silk blouse. Caitlin narrows her eyes at it, as if one hot, focused beam could fuse the gold band with her skin. She hates this woman, hates her spackled face, expensive clothes, and fake, red hair. And her attitude. Like she belongs here and Caitlin doesn’t. Like she’s the one who has known Daniel forever, who brings up his mail and makes him brownies, worries about him and cleans his apartment, and Caitlin is just some skank off the street. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Really?”

Really?

“Yes. It’s getting late. I’ll...I’ll look at your paintings another time.” She turns toward Caitlin with a false smile, showing small, perfect teeth. “Well. Good night.”

Good riddance. “Good night.” Caitlin smiles back. “What was your name again?”

Daniel and the woman exchange a look Caitlin can’t read. “Sorry,” he says.

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