Emmy Levine Saves a Life

Chapter 4

"So, where are we headed to today?" I ask Nolan as we walk out the door, the chilly breeze biting at my cheeks.

This is our thing, Nolan and I. It started as retail therapy, and then we realized that both of us inexplicably love to window shop. Don't get me wrong, actual shopping would be a lot more fun, but we don't have jobs, therefore we don't have money. Still, we enjoy these trips to the nearby strip malls, if only to walk around and get out of the house.

Sometimes we just hit the gas station and get hot chocolate or icees. We're some of the lucky ones who enjoy each others' company now just as much as we did when we played together at recess. Maybe even more, I think, peering at Nolan out of the corner of my eye.

He opens his mouth to answer me, then closes it again.

I squint at him.

"What is it?"

He stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"I have an idea, but it's kind of selfish."

I raise an eyebrow. "What kind of idea?"

"A bookstore kind of idea," he says, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his cheeks. I roll my eyes jokingly.

Nolan is such a bookworm, and he's crazy if he thinks I'm not well aware that his favorite author's new book came out today. He only brings it up like, four times a day.

"But it's your birthday and I want to do whatever you want to do," he adds quickly, almost too quickly. But we've been friends long enough that I can see the silent pleading beneath his words. He's great at a lot of things, but hiding his emotions isn't one of them.

"You're dying to get your hands on that book," I smirk, poking my fingers into his side where I know he's most ticklish. He yelps, swatting my hands away and laughing.

"No!" He says between giggles, "Forget I said anything! Let's go to the dollar store!"

I poke him more until he's straight-up pushing me away. I do love scouring the dollar store for a cool find, but he underestimates how much I enjoy watching him gush over a new book, too.

I give him another poke for good measure, and then point my finger down the road.

"To the bookstore!" I call out, and he smooths down his shirt and shoots me a thankful smile.

"You're too nice to me," he says, and I roll my eyes.

"I know," I joke because we both know he's the sweetheart of the two of us.

Truly, though, the only thing I want is some fresh air. I take a deep breath of it, loving the way it fills my lungs with its soothing chill. Once my lungs seem full, I force another short inhale, feeling like I'm about to burst. I let the whole breath out quickly through my nose, feeling my worries fly away with it.

It's a grounding exercise my therapist taught me. If I'm being honest, I'm not really sure how "grounding" is supposed to feel, but I do feel more relaxed whenever I do it. Late assignments, tryouts, my impending curfew — all of it is gone with a breath.

Well, not gone, but with the crisp fall smell in my nose and the sun peeking through the clouds and shining on my face, they might as well be.

As we start down the sidewalk, Nolan begins telling me about what happened in the previous book, notably the utterly cruel cliff ending that's been eating away at him for over a year. I listen to him talk as I watch the neighbors beginning their days around us.

A few kids are already outside on bikes, and two older women speed by with weights on their wrists and ankles. Cars pull away to drive off to weekend shifts, errand runs, maybe a wedding or a baby shower. Birds soar above me, headed who-knows-where to do who-knows-what.