Read Online Breathe for Me by Rhonda Helms - Free Book Online Page A

thrown off by the whole thing, unsure how I should feel, what I should think.
    Samantha beams, her smile helping me shake off my unease. “I love that place! I wish I’d known—we’ll have to go together next time. They have some great contemporary exhibits in the museum. Oh! There’s Rick. I gotta go.” She squeezes my arm, then takes off down the hallway toward Rick, who’s waving at her.
    And then, I am alone. I feel the sting of her absence as I watch her leave. It’s not fair for me to be upset with the situation though. After all, I’m most likely leaving for good soon. And she’ll never see me again. Perhaps it’s better for me to pull away and let her go off with Rick—both for her and for me. Just in case I can’t figure out a way to convince Sitri to let me stay.
    I go to Algebra II and get into my seat in the back of the room. Mr. Morris drones on about the newest chapter. I already read it, so I let my mind wander away from the subject at hand. I glance outside. Tomorrow is the first day of September. Fall is just around the corner, and then winter. What is New Orleans like in the thick of January—does the air get a little cooler?
    The thought that I might not experience it pains me. I’ve grown to love this unusual city—it’s not like England at all. At least, not the England I remember, before Sitri took me. But that place is long gone, swept into history books and paintings and movies that can’t and don’t come close to conveying the beauty, the war-ridden angst of my homeland.
    This city, though…this city is alive. It’s filled with music and laughter and amazing food. The people are unique, and someone like me can actually make a home here.
    Mr. Morris’s sharp voice interrupts my thoughts. “Alexis, I told you to zip it.”
    She tosses her thick braid over her shoulder. “It wasn’t me, Mr. Morris.” Her voice holds a sour edge.
    He turns his beady eyes to me. “Isabel. Was that Alexis talking?”
    I shake my head. “I didn’t hear anything.” It’s true—I wasn’t paying any attention to him or to anyone else, so I honestly couldn’t say if she was talking or not. But he didn’t need to know that part.
    His jaw tightens, and he stares at our part of the room for one long, hard moment. Then he shifts toward the chalkboard and scrawls across it.
    Alexis turns back to look at me. She nods her head lightly, as if in thanks.
    I return the gesture, oddly touched by her acknowledgement, and focus my eyes on my notebook. Better to make a more concerted effort at paying attention and not getting in trouble with Mr. Morris. He’s already looking way too stressed out as it is, and I don’t want to contribute to making his numbers decrease any more than they already are.

    I plead out of lunch with Samantha, who’s all too happy to spend her time with Rick, and head to the library. I need a break from reality right now. So I grab a book that talks about the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, an artistic group formed by the poet Christina Rossetti’s brother (a fact I discovered from the introduction of the poetry book), and crack it open. It’s fascinating, reading about the courage of these avant-garde people who bucked tradition and formed their own movement. Their paintings and writing reflect their beliefs.
    I can be that courageous. I can make my own way, one without Sitri, even without all the benefits of my situation. I stare at the pages blankly for a moment, my mind whirring through ideas on how to break my curse. Would he be receptive to me simply asking? I don’t remember my past after the bargain, since he wipes my memory every time he transfers me to a new city, but I do know I’ve always been too afraid of him to dream of being so bold. But maybe it’s time to try.
    â€œYou’re such a good girl—even studying on your lunch