The Broken Hearts' Society of Suite 17C

by LeighAnn Kopans

  “Well,” Arielle replied, considering. “I mean, yeah, it will suck to have everyone asking you about Adam. Saying it’s such a shame, asking if you’re seeing anyone else, blah blah blah. But then you can eat pie, go hide in your room, and be reasonably certain that you will have a boy-stress-free weekend. Because you know what you’ll do?”

  Amy set her lips in a hard line. “What?”

  “You’ll tell them that you’re done with Adam. D-O-N-E. And then there will be no more questions, no more gossip. Just one firm sentence from you, and it’ll all be over. Like tearing off a Band-Aid.”

  “Yeah, right. Do you have any idea how small my town is?” Amy grumbled, picking at a bubble on her pizza crust. Mom had always said pizza-dough bubbles were lucky, but between the dining hall and Society meetings, she must have eaten hundreds, and her luck hadn’t budged.

  Her early childhood education classes were more mind-numbingly boring than she’d imagined anything could ever be. Worse than that, when she’d actually observed in a daycare setting, so many of the little boogers had touched her face that she’d wanted to run away screaming. She’d even arrived late, and with wet hair, to coffee with Matt that day so that she could fit in a scorching, germ-killing shower beforehand. Anyone who knew Amy from home knew she wanted to be a preschool teacher. While the idea of a New and Improved Amy had started to grow on her in the last three months, that Amy didn’t exist yet to the people of Tripp Creek. The sad result was that there was only the shadow of what Old Amy had always said she was going to be, filled with nothing.

  “Oh, believe me,” Rion groused. “I know. Can’t go back there without everyone and their mom talking about you at the one janky bar that same night. That’s why I’m arriving in the dead of night, wrapping myself in a blanket, and sitting in bed with my laptop the entire time.”

  “I told you to come home with me,” Arielle said, half-rolling her eyes.

  “And I told you that I think girl-on-girl action is pretty hot, just like anyone else, but I don’t want to be in the car with it for two hours. Especially when I’m not invited.”

  “You are invited! I invited you! Just now. It’s not like we can make out while I’m driving,” Arielle said, blushing.

  “Oh, you’d be surprised what you can do while you’re driving,” Amy mused, feeling a pang of memory for teasing Adam’s neck with kisses while he was behind the wheel. His neck was more solid and muscled than sinewy and defined, like Matt’s. She’d done it mostly because he’d told her how much he loved it.

  “Hey hey, hold on there, Ames. Save your wet daydreams for when you’re actually with the guy. He’ll thank you, and so will we.”

  “I wasn’t daydreaming, I…anyway. I just don’t know if I can go back there. In fact…maybe I should come with you.”

  “Oh no. No no no. You are not coming with me, little miss Strawberry Sunshine,” Rion said. “First, I’m pretty sure your parents would lose their shit. Second, I just…don’t think you want to deal with going back to my house. Shit, I don’t even want to deal with going back there. Third, I don’t go to church.”

  Amy frowned. That was important to her—going to her church. She’d dreaded going to Sunday services over Thanksgiving break, cringed at the feeling of Adam’s eyes boring into the back of her head when she refused to look his way during Fellowship Greeting. But Christmas Eve was different. Something about the combination of the choir singing “O Holy Night” and flames passed from candle to candle in the still December dark made her feel safe, and held. It made her feel peace, which she needed very much right now. “Maybe you should come with me, then, Rion.”

  “Nah,” Rion replied offhandedly. “I should…I really need to go see her. Christmas. You know. And I am definitely not bringing you to prison.”

  Amy swallowed any words she might have had. She loved Rion, in her way, but she was right about that. Amy really didn’t know if she could handle going to prison. Or dealing with whatever wreckage Rion would be turned into in its wake. She was the kind of girl who was accustomed to wrapping herself up in a comforter and taking care of herself.

  Amy? Not so much. She’d never been left to deal with problems alone. Ever. Well, not until the two pink lines showed up on that pee stick. Even then, Adam had been there. Sort of.

  Well, she probably should learn to deal with her problems sometime. And doing it alone in your room while the guy who had broken your heart after fundamentally changing your life forever was having dinner a few doors down was probably a pretty good start. Everyone else would be in a food coma. It was an easy fix. Her roommates were right.

  “Yeah. You gonna be okay?” Amy asked, reaching over to squeeze Rion’s hand. Rion tensed up, but nodded. Amy knew she was carrying a lot—she had a feeling that the conversation they’d just had about Christmas was a repeat of the one she’d had with Crash, who’d wanted to go home with her too. Rion had come a long way, letting Crash into her life, trusting a guy again, but it seemed like this part of her life was unbreachable.

  Amy sighed. “And I can tell you’re just dying to get out of here,” she said, turning to Arielle.

  Arielle laughed. “I guess. We still haven’t had the ‘what should we call us?’ conversation, though. Like, what I should tell my parents. But we did talk about the fact that we don’t actually celebrate Christmas, and she said she didn’t care—that being with me was more important.”

  Amy gave her a knowing smile. “Hmm. Well, keep me posted. Okay?”

  Arielle nodded and patted Amy’s knee. “Are you going to be okay, Mom?”

  Amy bristled. “Shut up,” she murmured, returning Arielle’s smile, showing her she knew it was a joke. She may have been teasing, but the truth was, Amy was no longer feeling the appeal of mothering anyone, little preschool kids and roommates alike. If there was one thing she’d discovered over the past couple months, it was that she may have been good at taking care of other people, but first she should probably learn to take care of herself.

  “You’ve got a ride, right?” Rion asked.

  Amy nodded. A senior she barely remembered from back home was the daughter of her aunt’s best friend. CarrieAnn would be delighted to give Amy a lift for a little gas money, Mom had said in that soothing voice that could right a ship in a storm. Amy had relied on that voice for so long, then gone without it for so many days on end, that it had a hypnotic effect on her.

  So Amy had arranged a spot and time to meet with CarrieAnn, and figured that if she decided not to go home, she could pull out at the last minute, no harm, no foul. No consequences, either, because it wasn’t like her mom was going to drive out to Indiana Northern from their sleepy little lake town off of 225 with a turkey in the oven. God knew Dad couldn’t handle the turkey to save his life.

  Amy eyed her suitcase. She’d packed more with her heart than her head, knowing deep down that she wanted to do exactly as Rion had instructed, and hide in her room with a book or mindless YouTube videos. Her favorite sweatpants, nearly threadbare at the knees; a huge cowlneck sweater that she practically swam in; fuzzy socks and the softest t-shirts she owned. No makeup. She wouldn’t be going out anyway. “I’m going, then.”

  “Text me,” Arielle said. “Promise.” For all she made fun of Amy’s mothering, Arielle was like a bordering-on-overbearing older sister.

  “Only if you promise to tear your eyes away from Lauren long enough to text back.”

  Arielle dipped her head and grinned. “It’s not even a thing,” she mumbled. “Not really.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Rion said with a grunt from her throat. “You can text me too, you know. It won’t be sunshine and cuddles, but that shit gets fucking annoying after a while anyway. Consider me the antidote.”

  “Aww, I love you too, Rion,” Amy said, a genuine smile cracking through the fog of dread that hung over the impending drive. She’d ridden with CarrieAnn on the way home for Thanksgiving, and she wasn’t boring or snobby or braggy or any of the million other things college senio
rs could be. Most of all, it was good that CarrieAnn didn’t have a boyfriend, so she didn’t have to listen to her talk about men. Amy loved Rion and Arielle, but seeing them wandering around in a fog of relative happiness for the past month was starting to make Amy twitchy.

  Amy stood and rolled her suitcase to the heavy metal door and pointed at the bulletin board on the wall as a last gesture. They’d recently added pictures of Crash and Lauren and Amy had doodled floating hearts around their heads, which produced a chorus of laughter. “Society meeting right when we get back. A special one. I need to hear about all of it in person.”

  Amy forced a smile.

  Adam breaking up with her had destroyed her in the beginning, but the pain had quickly faded, leaving an empty space in so many ways—how to relate to church, how to make a plan for a life that was no longer, well, planned. She loved hanging out with Matt, and heard her roommates’ teasing about him loud and clear. Over the past couple weeks, there had even been one or two times she’d looked at him in the waning light or mid-laugh and thought he was cute.

  Attracted or not, there was definitely something there that made her want to be near Matt on even the worst days. But nothing had happened between them, and nothing would happen. Any time they made eye contact that felt electric, any time he came close to touching her and she felt a shiver run down her spine, every time he said something sweet and her heart sped up, she pulled away again. She reminded herself that she needed to be alone, not attached to anyone emotionally or otherwise, to figure out what she really wanted to do with herself, who she really was. Or she would regret it later.

  That was a Society promise.

  Matt had kept his promise that he wouldn’t try to kiss her, or do anything with her, unless he knew for sure she felt the same way. The only problem was that Amy kind of hoped he would try something. Because maybe if he did, she’d find herself ready.

  Arielle and Rion swore he was in love with her, and Rion had even thrown out the phrase “blue balled to hell” a few times, which made Amy wince. She noticed Matt distract himself on purpose, but he was easily distractible anyway. Everything seemed to energize him—from his volunteer work to his classes to the kind of latte he was going to try that day.

  Amy knew one thing—she wanted that kind of energy. Maybe if she hung out with Matt long enough, some of it would rub off on her.

  Getting away from campus, where Amy had caught a glimpse of Adam with a new girl every couple of weeks, true to his declared mission when he broke up with her, probably would help clear her head. But it would also take her away from the three anchors that had settled into place for her on that first week. It had been incredibly lucky, and the two girls and Matt had taken her away from the stress of being at home, confronting a past and a future that no longer felt like hers.

  It didn’t really help that Mom and Dad were convinced she and Adam would be getting back together. “Just a phase” and “he’ll come around” and “normal for boys when they leave home” were phrases that got thrown around a lot on her weekly phone calls home, in that dreaded moment when Mom asked if she was seeing Adam again. Mom and Dad had been convinced of her destiny right along with her since she first went to homecoming with Adam. She’d been convinced of it too.

  But it wasn’t like she could tell Mom in graphic detail exactly what she heard about Adam’s activities on campus. Word traveled fast back home, she didn’t want to be the one to plant the seed of badmouthing him, and besides—Adam might have been a jerk, but. Bad-mouthing the only son of the long-standing pastor of the only church in town was the fastest way to bring drama down on your house. Even though Amy would be at Northern most of the year, May would be here before she knew it.

  She couldn’t endure a summer back home being gossiped about as the jealous, lying ex.

  She sighed as those thoughts circled through her head on the way to the bench in the courtyard outside Harrison, where she said she’d meet CarrieAnn. Matt had an uncanny way of knowing where he could find her, so she’d stayed inside until the last minute. If he asked her one more time to come home with him for Christmas, she would probably accept.

  CarrieAnn drove a red SUV, and Amy kept her eyes trained on the closest intersection, waiting for her to turn the corner any second. Cold bled through Amy’s jeans within seconds, and the wind seemed to kick up more every minute that she sat there, watching cars roll by. Most Indiana Northern students weren’t rich, and the beat-up old sedans and station wagons rolled by in a tired parade, full of students dispersing to their nearby towns to eat turkey by day and get drunk with high school friends by night.

  When the outside chill sent a shiver from Amy’s shoulders to her shoes, she checked her phone. This was annoying. CarrieAnn must have wanted to get home as soon as possible, so why was she almost fifteen minutes late? But when Amy glanced up again and saw a bright blue pickup rolling down the street toward her, a pit of dread formed in her stomach. There were lots of cars on campus. That pickup could be anyone’s, right?

  Except, when it pulled up in front of the bench, and the window rolled down, Amy’s worst fears were confirmed—it wasn’t anyone’s. Amy wanted to stare at the ground and cry when she saw him, but she forced herself to look into Adam’s eyes instead. Be brave, Ames.

  “Hey. Headed home?” she asked.

  “Yep. And so are you.”

  It didn’t sound like a question. Amy’s brows knit together. “Yes…”

  “No, I mean, with me. I called your mom, and she told me you were riding home with CarrieAnn Thompson. Which seemed kind of silly since we’re both going to the same place.”

  “We’re all going to the same place, Adam.” She said his name clearly, with as much emphasis as she could muster. “Tripp Creek is a pretty small town.”

  The smirk on his face grew wider as he shook his head at Amy. His neck looked even thicker, she noticed. They must have been working him hard at practice, even though he’d been relegated to third string. He’d cut his hair short, too, leaving sharp cheekbone lines that had been framed by his shaggy style back home. The kind eyes she’d once loved so much now looked hard and out of place in his new bulky figure. She shook her head and blinked hard. How had she ever found him attractive?

  “No,” he said, taking the tone of someone speaking to a third grader. “Our families are having Christmas dinner together. Your mom arranged it. So I messaged CarrieAnn and told her she could head home after her last class, instead of waiting for yours. I wanted to drive you. I even called your mom, to let her know I’d be happy to drive you. She thought it might be a nice idea to give us a chance to spend some time together. And, Ames,” he said with his voice suddenly softer, “I think so too. I miss you.”

  Amy’s eyes narrowed, and she reflexively stood up, feeling the need to stand eye to eye with him. She may have been broken, and she may be a serious work in progress, but one thing the Society had made her promise was not to get caught in any kind of dependent relationship again. And that definitely included taking a ride home for Christmas with Adam.

  “I don’t’ think you do.” She shook her head and winced. It was irrelevant whether he missed her, because she didn’t—refused to—miss him. For a while, she’d thought she had. But soon she realized she’d just been lonely. Seeing him in person only solidified that instinct.

  “Come on, baby. Get in.”

  “Baby? Don’t you even think of calling me that. Ever again.” A soft snarl rose in the back of her throat, and she had to suppress a smile of satisfaction that Rion and Arielle would totally approve of that answer. That tone that showed she was going to stand her ground, not be pushed around anymore no matter what.

  “How are you going to get home if you don’t ride with me? CarrieAnn headed home last night after I called her and let her know I was taking you. You don’t have any other friends from back home here.”

  Again, not a question. A dig, designed to knock her down and then emphasize how she needed him. Had Adam always spoken to
her like this, and she’d just never noticed? Amy said a silent prayer of thanks to college for helping her to understand that, out of all the things she was, she wasn’t helpless.

  “I’ll take her home.”

  Amy’s heart wrenched when she heard Matt’s voice, and twisted up tight when she spun around and saw him, walking briskly toward them. In the distance, his maroon Civic sat idling in the parking lot in front of Harrison, and for a second Amy wondered if he’d been coming to say goodbye.

  Next to Adam, Matt looked even more wiry than usual. And much more attractive than usual. One of the colors in his plaid shirt perfectly offset his eyes, so that even with his glasses on, they jumped out at Amy, making her pace her breaths. His brown oxfords planted firmly on the ground beside her as he clenched his fists and locked eyes with Adam, his jaw hard and his body tense, like he was ready to spring on Adam if he kept pushing.

  “I’m going to take her,” Matt said firmly. “Amy just called me to say her ride ditched her, so she’s coming with me.”

  “A simple misunderstanding. It makes sense for her to ride home with me. You’re not even from anywhere near us, are you buddy?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Matt didn’t show an ounce of fear or a flinch of reaction to Adam’s condescending nickname, despite the fact that, even from this distance, Adam was significantly larger than he was. “Amy said she doesn’t want to get in the car with you.”

  “Oh, please. Of course she’s okay riding with me. We’ve known each other for years. We were together for years.” Adam emphasized ‘together’ with a flick of his eyebrow and a tilt of his head, so that there could be no mistake about exactly how close they’d been. Another testy smile. “I’m harmless. Right, babe?”

  Matt didn’t need to glance at Amy for more than half a second before stepping even closer to Adam’s truck. “Okay, Gaston. That stuff is just not going to work out here. Not sure if you didn’t understand me the first time, so I’ll say it again. She doesn’t want to go with you. She’s been very clear about that, and now so have I.”