Breathing by Cheryl Renee Herbsman Page A

love you, too.”
    And then Mama’s there dragging me off, squawking about how I done broke rule number four and how she ain’t never going to let me out of her sight again. And blah, blah, blah. But my eyes are fixed onto the outline of Jackson’s body and I can sense the pull of his eyes on mine. And truly, don’t nothing else matter.

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    “Y annah, I will not have you mopin’about the rest of the summer. Boys come and boys go. You may as well learn it now. I know you’re all tore up about him leaving, and seeing as you’re brokenhearted and all, I’ma cut you some slack. But I’m telling you now, I ain’t gonn’ have you setting there like a bump on a pickle the rest of the summer. So go on and lick your wounds and then get over it.”
    She’s one to talk—still pining over my daddy, and he’s been gone near about twelve years. But this ain’t the same deal at all. Jackson didn’t run off on me. He loves me. He done told me so. It’s just his mama needing him at home and his stupid kin tossing him out like the trash.
    Maybe I might could move out there. Go to high school in Greenville. I could help his ma with the cooking and tending to the boys—even if they are about my own age.
    “You need something to keep you busy. You got a reading list for school?” Mama needles me.
    “No, ma’am. It’s summer va-ca-tion , as in no homework,” I say, even though I’ve been reading Jane Eyre between trashy romances in my spare time.
    “Perhaps Miss Patsy can make some suggestions so you can get ahead for the fall.”
    Always pushing. She knows I don’t need to be getting ahead. Don’t I deserve a break? I go flop down on the couch.
    “What about your workbook?” she calls.
    Somehow, since I met up with Jackson, I seem to have let it slide. And now, I can’t even bring myself to care. I sure wish Stef and Joie would get home.
    Gina stops by, and she and Mama sit in the kitchen drinking coffee.
    “How’s she doing?” Gina asks, like I’m not sitting ten feet away.
    “She’s setting there looking like the last pea at pea-time.” Mama laughs.
    I want to explode, feeling like don’t nobody in the world understand my pain. Ain’t nothing I can do about it neither. I done explained the whole thing to Mama about the party and all. She ain’t sure what to think, though she ain’t too happy about Jackson being the one who threw the punch.
    The phone rings and Mama picks it up. “Hello?”
    “Is it him?” Gina asks. “Let me talk to him.”
    Mama giggles and pulls the phone away. “Come on, now,” she says, pushing Gina aside. “It’s for you, shug.”
    I look up from where I’ve been studying the design in the old shag carpet in the living room. I never noticed before how the swirls had a pattern to them.
    She brings the phone over to me. I hold my breath, afraid to hope. Then she nods with a smile.
    I jump up and grab it. “Jackson?” I say as I step outside into the yard.
    “Hey, baby,” he says. And I tell you, them words melt me right into the ground.
    “Dag, I miss you something fierce. I can’t believe it’s only been two days.”
    He sighs. “Me, too.”
    “What’s it like being back there?” I ask.
    “It’s a’ight,” he says.
    “Your mama mad about you punching out your kin?” I ask.
    “Naw,” he replies. “Boys’ll be boys.”
    “That’s good,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief.
    Then there’s just all this dead silence on the line.
    “Say something,” I beg.
    “What?” he answers.
    And my heart sinks right into the red clay dirt beneath my feet. We ain’t never going to make this work if we can’t talk to each other on the phone.
    “Don’t be like that,” I beg.
    “Look, I got to run. I just wanted to hear your voice is all.”
    “You got a job yet?” I ask just to keep him on the line a minute longer, but end up sounding like a naggy housewife.
    He hesitates. “Mama wants me to put in an application at the auto body shop. Thinks the