Inhale, Exhale - By Sarah M. Ross Page 0,60

happened.

My eye swelled, requiring two steaks and a bag of peas before it subsided. There was no hiding it from my parents, but I couldn’t tell them what had happened. Daddy had too many rifles for that.

I ended up telling my dad that I got smacked with a softball during a friendly pick-up game. I wasn’t sure if he totally bought it, but I began avoiding both of my parents so they couldn’t ask too many questions. Questions like why I’d suddenly broken up with Christian out of the blue, and why Grant was now coming over every single day.

Grant was amazing through this whole thing, but to say he was slightly over-protective would be an understatement. He didn’t want me to go anywhere alone, insisting he or one of my friends accompany me on every errand, no matter how small. I understood and appreciated his concern, but I really didn’t think Christian was going to confront me in the middle of the Piggly Wiggly.

Christian did try several other times, however. He came the night of my birthday and screamed outside on my porch for a half hour. Luckily, my parents were away still, and the only ones home were Grant, Trish, Ava, and me. He yelled for so long and so loudly that old man Weatherling came out, yelling about all the noise, but he never called the cops.

“Please, baby. Just talk to me. Just let me explain. You know I never meant to hurt you.”

I refused to answer him, just sitting in my bed, shaking. Grant was ready to explode, shaking in anger. His face was bright red, and I had to sit on top of him and wrap my body around his to keep him from running out the door and killing Christian. “Please don’t leave me, Grant. I know you want to hurt him for what he did, but stay with me. I need you here with me.”

“C’mon, Jillian!” Christian yelled. “You’ve got to talk to me. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

Ava stormed into my room with my dad’s golf clubs. She was angrier than I’d ever seen her. She began to pelt Christian with balls. “Get the fuck out of here, Christian. She’s never taking you back. You’re lucky you’re not behind bars right now.”

“Goddammit! Jillian, call off your fucking bitch friends and talk to me. Fuck! C’mon, Ava. Make her see reason. It’s not like this was my fault. Why’d you even open the package? Damnit! I swear to God, Ava, if you throw one more thing at me I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”

“No! You’ve gone too far this time, Christian. I backed you up for years. After the Abbi incident at prom, after the drugs—but I’m done. This is not forgivable in my book. So go ahead and try, asshole. I’ll call the cops so fast you won’t be able to say Miranda. You know my cousin’s the sheriff.”

Christian flew to the porch, banging and kicking on the door. I clutched Grant tighter, unable to stop crying. “Get your fuckin’ ass down here now, Jillian. I’m not playing any more. Or I will come in there and drag you out there.”

Trish threw a shoe at Christian from the window. “If your no-good sorry ass doesn’t leave right this instant, the next thing you see will be flashing lights. Leave, Christian! Now!”

He kicked and punched the door a few more times. “This isn’t over, Jillian. You hear me? It’s not over!”

Grant got up and flew down the stairs, but by the time he made it to the front door, Christian was peeling away in his Jeep.

A week went by, and I didn’t hear from Christian again, thank God. For the most part, Grant and I were—Grant and I. We didn’t talk about anything official, he didn’t give me his class ring or anything silly like that. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me, how hard I was beginning to fall. But I had just ended an almost four-year relationship, and wasn’t sure if I could handle another one.

So, instead we had a mutually unspoken agreement that, for now, things needed to be simple and comfortable. Take each day and see where it goes. We kept things mostly platonic over the first week—minus a few kisses. Okay, a lot of kissing. A lot (hey, a girl only has so much will power!).

Ava and Trish both jumped aboard Team Grant with both feet. They