Breathe into Me by Sara Fawkes

still staring straight ahead. All this talk of beds and sleeping arrangements felt too intimate, somehow, and I knew if I looked at Everett, the
awareness
I felt for him would be painfully clear. After another awkward moment, he said, “Good night.”
    “G’night.” And then I was alone. I let out a pent-up breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding.
    The sun still hadn’t gone down yet, but my body was slowly succumbing to drowsiness. Pulling the quilt over my shoulders, I stared at the far wall before lying sideways onto the pillows. I needed to be up early again in the morning for work, and would have to budget extra time to call a taxi. Despite a cursory search of the beach after we cleaned up Everett’s shoes from my lunch, my bike was nowhere to be found. I hadn’t been particularly attached to it, but that meant one less freedom in my life. I was running low on options.
    But for now, at least I had a place to sleep. I curled inside the thick quilt around me and closed my eyes, praying sleep would come quickly.
    * * *
    I made it to my shift on time the next morning, glad I left an extra change of clothes at work for days such as this. Six in the morning was an ungodly shift, but I’d slept surprisingly well on that lumpy couch and was actually feeling good for once.
    Work was normal right up until after lunch. My only clue that something bad was about to happen was Clare’s anxious look from two aisles over at something behind me. I turned to see Macon approaching me, and there was nothing I could do to get away.
    “Why didn’t you tell me that you were having an abortion?”
    At first his words didn’t register. “I … what?”
    “You should have told me you were pregnant. I would have taken care of you!”
    I stared at him, his words a sudden blow to the gut. “Macon,” I murmured, struggling to formulate an answer to a conversation I
never
thought I’d have, “I’m not … I wasn’t …”
    “You had an abortion?”
    I looked up at Dolly, the checker I was helping. The appalled look on her face drove the entire situation home, and it was like a blow to the gut. “
No
,” I said emphatically. “I would never do that!”
    I knew from the expression on her face that she didn’t believe me.
    “Why didn’t you call me?” Macon said, and I rounded on him.
    I stared at him, openmouthed, unable to speak. This had to be a sick joke. “Macon, I wasn’t pregnant, I never had an abortion.”
    “What kind of person are you to kill an unborn baby?”
    I was the center of attention for the entire front of the store, all eyes on me, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. My lungs seized, unable to pull air into my body; nothing could get past my throat. I hadn’t had an asthma attack since I was a little girl. Long ago I’d thrown away my inhaler, not thinking I’d ever need it again. The familiar sensation of a fist squeezing my heart and lungs threw me into a panic, and I fought against the feeling as I struggled to get air.
    “Out of the way!” I heard a familiar voice ring through the air, and then Clare was there. “Come on, girl, nice and slow. Just breathe in and out.”
    Rob appeared beside us. “What happened? Is Lacey all right?”
    “I think she’s having an asthma attack.” Clare’s arm moved around me as she guided me toward the shelves along the front wall. “Lean down and focus on breathing, sweetie.”
    “Baby?” Macon crouched down across from me, face filled with false concern. “Are you all right?”
    “Get
back
,” Clare snarled next to me, and stepped in front of him. “Come on, nobody’s going to hurt you, just breathe.”
    It took several choking gasps for air before I felt my lungs begin to unclench. By now tears were streaming down my face, and I swiped at them with the back of my hand.
    “What’s going on here?”
    Mrs. Holloway’s voice almost made me go into another asthma attack, and I kept my eyes on the floor.
    “Lacey was having an asthma