Read Online Don't Forget to Breathe by Cathrina Constantine - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cathrina Constantine
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cheerleading squad.
Then, as if he sensed my approach, his eyes flicked in my direction. Making up for my tawdry appearance from the previous night, I primped just for this reaction. I deemed he liked what he saw. Secure in a form fitting red-knit jumper and paisley print tights with my black ankle boots, I dressed to impress.
Shrugging from the wall, the girls followed his gaze.
“Hey,” I said. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No problem. I had company.” The girl’s dispersed with a glare of inquisitive glances. Becket was quick to say, “You don’t have cheerleading practice.”
“I don’t?”
“Marcy just informed me.”
My eyes darted to Marcy in the cafeteria. She’d been keeping an intense eye on our conversation. “Okay, then I wouldn’t mind going for coffee.”
“I’ll meet you at the gym.”
“The gym?”
“Yes, the gym.”
“Sounds wonderful,” I voiced with the pretense of social etiquette. He sauntered off. Wonderful ?—I said wonderful, what a moron.
Chapter 11
Becket appeared confident and cool behind the wheel while butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Nibbling my bottom lip, I brooded over the multitude of girls that had been passengers in his car; my so-called etiquette plunged into the pit. My nervous hands plowed into my hair, unsettling the layers. Get a grip, stop being a wimp .
Star Hallow was in full autumn regalia as we cruised along Terrace Circle. Haystacks, pumpkins, gourds, ghost, witches, goblins, and all sorts of paraphernalia bedecked homes and the main gazebo in the Circle. Prior to Mom’s murder the season had been my favorite, now it ranked lower than low.
He parked at Earl’s, the local, homespun eatery. “You’ve misplaced your tongue.” A smile lifted his cheeks. “I’ve never bored a girl to death in the first ten minutes. I think it’s a new record.” He climbed out of the car and I followed suit.
Ground water had evaporated from the previous storm, permeating the atmosphere with a sticky feeling. Unseasonably warm for the beginning of October, the bleachers would be packed on Saturday for the football game if the splendid weather remained.
I confined an errant piece of hair over my ear and hoped it didn’t resemble a thicket of chaos. As we moseyed into Earl’s I wondered if Becket was staring at my scraggly hair or my butt which looked decent in this outfit.
Earl’s is the hub for locals, and since Becket was widely known it felt like a procession. People heralded his name, he gestured hellos with a head nod. Countless eyes sized me up for their approval and I had to kill restless fingers from combing into my hair a second time. Nervous habit.
His hand pressed on my lower back, the feeling quite pleasant as he ushered me into a booth made for two. The waitress, Molly Schriven a classmate, was beside us before he had a chance to sit. A broken smile showed off her braces. “What can I get you, Becket?” Her gaze tacked on him, oozing fascination.
“Leo, what would you like?” He looked at me.
“Just coffee.” How polite, and I was falling faster than a shooting star.
“How about a doughnut or something to go with that?”
“Um…” My best method was political. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“Two cheeseburgers, fries, a coke and a coffee,” he said.
“Change that coffee into a coke too,” I said, and observed Molly’s blatant eye roll.
His set his arms on the table and sloped forward. “Leo, this isn’t an easy topic to broach.” He expressed with concern. “But I need to tell you something.”
Oh, no. I tensed. Whatever possessed me to think he’d been attracted to me? He’s giving me the friend talk like I gave Henry.
“I remember your mother. I had her for English as a sophomore, she was a cool teacher.” He gazed with serious eyes. “What I’m trying to say is—I’m sorry for your loss. Her murder devastated this village. She was beautiful. You look exactly like her.”
Not what I
Then, as if he sensed my approach, his eyes flicked in my direction. Making up for my tawdry appearance from the previous night, I primped just for this reaction. I deemed he liked what he saw. Secure in a form fitting red-knit jumper and paisley print tights with my black ankle boots, I dressed to impress.
Shrugging from the wall, the girls followed his gaze.
“Hey,” I said. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No problem. I had company.” The girl’s dispersed with a glare of inquisitive glances. Becket was quick to say, “You don’t have cheerleading practice.”
“I don’t?”
“Marcy just informed me.”
My eyes darted to Marcy in the cafeteria. She’d been keeping an intense eye on our conversation. “Okay, then I wouldn’t mind going for coffee.”
“I’ll meet you at the gym.”
“The gym?”
“Yes, the gym.”
“Sounds wonderful,” I voiced with the pretense of social etiquette. He sauntered off. Wonderful ?—I said wonderful, what a moron.
Chapter 11
Becket appeared confident and cool behind the wheel while butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Nibbling my bottom lip, I brooded over the multitude of girls that had been passengers in his car; my so-called etiquette plunged into the pit. My nervous hands plowed into my hair, unsettling the layers. Get a grip, stop being a wimp .
Star Hallow was in full autumn regalia as we cruised along Terrace Circle. Haystacks, pumpkins, gourds, ghost, witches, goblins, and all sorts of paraphernalia bedecked homes and the main gazebo in the Circle. Prior to Mom’s murder the season had been my favorite, now it ranked lower than low.
He parked at Earl’s, the local, homespun eatery. “You’ve misplaced your tongue.” A smile lifted his cheeks. “I’ve never bored a girl to death in the first ten minutes. I think it’s a new record.” He climbed out of the car and I followed suit.
Ground water had evaporated from the previous storm, permeating the atmosphere with a sticky feeling. Unseasonably warm for the beginning of October, the bleachers would be packed on Saturday for the football game if the splendid weather remained.
I confined an errant piece of hair over my ear and hoped it didn’t resemble a thicket of chaos. As we moseyed into Earl’s I wondered if Becket was staring at my scraggly hair or my butt which looked decent in this outfit.
Earl’s is the hub for locals, and since Becket was widely known it felt like a procession. People heralded his name, he gestured hellos with a head nod. Countless eyes sized me up for their approval and I had to kill restless fingers from combing into my hair a second time. Nervous habit.
His hand pressed on my lower back, the feeling quite pleasant as he ushered me into a booth made for two. The waitress, Molly Schriven a classmate, was beside us before he had a chance to sit. A broken smile showed off her braces. “What can I get you, Becket?” Her gaze tacked on him, oozing fascination.
“Leo, what would you like?” He looked at me.
“Just coffee.” How polite, and I was falling faster than a shooting star.
“How about a doughnut or something to go with that?”
“Um…” My best method was political. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“Two cheeseburgers, fries, a coke and a coffee,” he said.
“Change that coffee into a coke too,” I said, and observed Molly’s blatant eye roll.
His set his arms on the table and sloped forward. “Leo, this isn’t an easy topic to broach.” He expressed with concern. “But I need to tell you something.”
Oh, no. I tensed. Whatever possessed me to think he’d been attracted to me? He’s giving me the friend talk like I gave Henry.
“I remember your mother. I had her for English as a sophomore, she was a cool teacher.” He gazed with serious eyes. “What I’m trying to say is—I’m sorry for your loss. Her murder devastated this village. She was beautiful. You look exactly like her.”
Not what I
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