Free Breathe by Melanie McCullough Page A

while it peeled away, splashing water all over my legs and leaving Abby and I alone, standing in the rain.
    She stood there, her arms wrapped around herself like they were the only thing keeping her from falling apart and she stared at me. “Get in the truck,” I ordered, my tone harsher than I intended. Adrenaline and testosterone were still surging through my veins.
    “Fuck you,” she spat back. “I’d rather walk.” And she did, stalking right by me. I turned and reached for her, grabbing her by the upper arm and spinning her around to face me. She shrunk away from me as if she thought I might strike her and like the sky before me, I broke. Shattered into a million pieces. Wished I could be washed away in the rain with the rest of the dirt.
    I pulled her to me and encircled her body with my own. At first, she resisted, pounding against my naked chest with her tiny ineffectual fists. But then I felt the fight leave her body and she collapsed into me, resting her head on my slick chest. I don’t know how long we stood there, wet and freezing in the rain. But I felt like it might be me that was the only thing holding her together and she the only thing holding me. So we stayed there, clinging to one another for as long as we could.

Chapter Seven
    Abby
                 
                 
    Sunday morning brought more rain. A wild storm that scratched at the windows and made it impossible to sleep. I laid there for hours in the dark, silently urging the sun to rise so I could find the will to get out of bed. So I’d want to exist. Part of me wished the bed would open up and swallow me whole. Take me somewhere other than that moment. I’d spent the last four hours staring at the ceiling, replaying the events of last night in my head. The things Garrett had said to me. The things that I’d said to him. It was maddening. There’s only so much time a person can wander around in their own head before they begin to wonder if they’re crazy.
    I rolled from bed around seven and stumbled down the hall to the kitchen, following the warm aroma of fresh-brewed coffee. Maggie sat at the table—now clean and free of unpaid bills—sipping from a ceramic mug. She turned her head in my direction when she heard me approach.
    “What are you doing up?” I grumbled.
    “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.”
    Mornings were hard enough. Did I really deserve to have to deal with Maggie so early? Especially after the night I’d had? I’d stopped wishing she’d get up and eat breakfast with me every morning around third grade. When I’d gotten tired of running to her room to wake her up only to find she wasn’t alone.
    “Just surprised to see you up while the sun’s still shining that’s all,” I said, turning my back to her and pouring myself a cup of coffee.
    “I thought I’d go to church with you and Uncle Jim this morning,” she replied and I nearly spit coffee all over the newly washed countertop. I didn’t think Maggie even knew Little Bend had a church, much less what time Sunday services were.
    “You?” I balked. “In a church?”
    To my surprise, she laughed. “Well sure. Why not?”
    “Well, you’re you.” I had trouble picturing Maggie in a church—having to compete for attention against an even bigger martyr than herself. “Won’t the Virgin Mary statue start crying tears of blood? Or the holy water start to boil or something?”
    “I really don’t need any of your lip this morning. Besides, church isn’t for the self-righteous like yourself. It’s for the sinners like me.”
    “Is that right?”
    “Without us there’d be no evil, the world would be heaven, and there’d be no need for religion. It’s folks like me who keep Pastor Williams working.” There was no arguing with Maggie once she’d set her mind to something, so she came with and Uncle Jim smiled like he had in that picture behind the bar.
    After service, on the steps of the church, people reached for