Our Broken Pieces

by Sarah White

“No. I always knew she’d make the court at least. I bet she’ll be announced queen on prom night. Only in fairy tales does the villain get what’s coming to her.” He nods at my words, and I let that train of thought play out in my head. When I saw her name it made my heart sink. It was the first time in weeks I had to look her in the eye and, to be honest, that was hard. She didn’t say anything to me as I hung her sash, but I could feel her eyes on mine the whole time. “I actually feel a little sad about the whole thing.”

  “What do you mean?” We pull up in front of the address Angie gave me, and Gabe cuts the engine after parking behind Teresa’s lifted truck.

  “All the other girls couldn’t keep their eyes off the sash as I put it on them. They were giddy and squealing, so it was hard to put it over their heads. But when I put Elle’s on she watched me instead. It was like that sash weighed a million pounds and I was resting it all on her shoulders. I think it might have hurt her to get it from me.” I pull the handle and open my door, causing the light to turn on and fill the cab.

  “She did a terrible thing to you. Sometimes what we think is going to taste so sweet turns rotten when it’s soaked in all the nastiness of what we did to get it.” He pulls the keys from the ignition and opens his door. Before we join the other seniors outside in the dark he turns back to me. “I saw the way Brady looked at you when you hung his sash.” Just that small reminder makes my stomach turn sour.

  I’d seen the way my hands were shaking as I lifted the sash over Brady’s head. He’d watched me too, and it felt like he was hoping for forgiveness instead of a silly scrap of fabric. I only had a second before I had to announce the next name, and I struggled to find something to say to him while the microphone wasn’t by my lips. In the end, all I could do was shrug my shoulders. Our student body might not have been able to see that he didn’t deserve their admiration, but I knew.

  “Everly!” My name is called, pulling my attention away from Gabe. I can hear Angie’s voice and see the beam of a flashlight being bounced around. “Get over here!” Gabe comes around to my side and hands me a heavy flashlight. We make our way over to the huge pile of sand.

  “This is going to be awesome,” I can’t help but say when a large bulldozer scoops up some sand and takes it to the back of another truck. Kathy is a bit of a spitfire, but watching her drive her father’s bulldozer with her safety goggles and a look of determination makes me proud that she’s my friend. It takes less than an hour to fill the truck beds with the sand and then we are on our way to the high school. A few seniors are already putting up the props we saved from the quad-decorating contest, the great finds we picked up last Sunday morning at the garage sales, and the items we’re borrowing from the drama classroom. By the time we drive Gabe’s truck across the basketball courts at the back of the school, it’s almost two a.m. It took us over two hours to load the sand and gather the items from Angie’s house. We also stopped by two more houses on the way, where seniors had helped by putting out beach items on the curb for students with trucks to bring over to the school.

  The trucks have all turned off their lights and backed up to the lunch tables just outside the quad. Kids start spilling out from the other cars parked in the dark and another group that’s already begun setting up emerges from the hallway. I feel a little teary as I look around at all the kids under the glow of flashlights. Kids who have never spoken to each other before are working together. It doesn’t seem to matter who’s popular and who’s not, all the groups blend together to become one group of seniors. Drama kids are passing buckets of sand to the jocks, and the metal heads are helping the band students stabilize the wooden palm tree. Elle and Brady are here too, but they respect the distance I try to keep between us, and help on the fringes of the quad as I direct students from the center. I wish every day of high school could have been like this. There is a hopeful part of me that wonders if maybe we’ve all grown up and we’ll leave this school on the same playing field again—throwing all the labels away.

  Gabe and I get to work, and two hours later sixty seniors huddle together on the beautiful beach we’ve made to take a picture. The lighting is terrible and our figures are grainy, but some of the best moments just can’t be captured in still frame. I’m smiling when Gabe drops me off at my house, his hoodie keeping me warm, my shoes hanging from my finger because I couldn’t resist stepping into one of the small pools filled with water. In a few hours the rest of the student body is going to walk onto campus and find themselves knee-deep in sand under the shade of a giant wooden palm tree. Maybe they won’t remember everything they learned in chemistry, or the combination to their lockers, but years from now they will remember the day they sat on the beach in the middle of quad four.

  twenty-one

  I’M SURE THERE have been pranks far more epic than the one we pulled off, but yesterday morning as the students spilled onto campus and found themselves on a beach, I realized this year’s prank will become a legend. I’m still finding sand in my shoes. It took two hours for the teachers on the bottom floor to move away enough of the beach to open their classrooms, and while that might seem like a crime punishable to the highest degree, I think the staff appreciated that nothing was permanent and no real damage was done. We can thank last year’s seniors for gluing all the locks shut and providing the staff this year with a little perspective. It could have been worse. Instead, all the seniors crammed into quad four to eat their lunches on the white sand and enjoy a day at our faux beach party.

  The day of the concert I’ve set my alarm to go off thirty minutes earlier than usual so I’ll have time to style my hair before school. After my shower I make sure to wear the lotion I was wearing the day I met Gabe, a sweet fruity scent with a small amount of glitter in it. Just enough to make my skin look like it’s got a glow.

  I blow-dry my hair and then curl it in wide curls down my back. I put my makeup on with the knowledge it will have to last me all day and into the night. My outfit for today is quite a change from what I typically wear to school, but I want something special for tonight. The tight black jersey skirt and formfitting white shirt with cap sleeves look feminine as they hug the lines of my body and show off all my best assets. I slip on a pair of Toms, not wanting my feet to be too sore by the end of the day.

  Rosie’s face lights up when I run into her in the hallway. “You look so pretty, Everly!” She pulls me into a hug, careful not to squish any of my long curls.

  “Thank you. Wish me luck.” I straighten up and head for the kitchen for a bowl of cereal before rushing back into our tiny bathroom to brush my teeth. I look at myself in the mirror and feel like I’ve been hiding this whole time, only to emerge a brighter person today.

  I hear the rumble of Gabe’s engine when he pulls up outside and I grab my bag and swing it over my shoulder. My mom gives me a wave from the kitchen as I open the front door and make my way to Gabe. He’s already out of the truck and on his way toward the house when he stops dead in his tracks. He takes me in from my feet to the top of my head in a slow gaze that has my blood heating up. When his eyes finally meet mine I see the interest in them.

  “Wow,” he says in a way that I’m not sure I was meant to hear.

  He opens the door for me and I climb in. He smiles before going around to the driver’s side and then again when he settles in behind the wheel. He laughs a little and I feel my brows pull together, thinking maybe I misread the heat in his eyes a moment ago. “Everly, you look so good I don’t know if I’m going to be able to look away from you long enough to get us to school safely.”

  “Thank you,” I say, and feel my own smile growing even though I try to contain it. My cheeks feel warm as he nods his head and then pulls us out onto the road. I watch him drive, carefully taking in his features and noticing the way his eyes look tired and lost. “How are things going with your sister?”

  “She’s doing okay, I guess. My parents keep insisting that they didn’t come home early from their trip because of our fight, but the
y aren’t very good at lying.” He shrugs his shoulders and adjusts his arms so that one is resting on the door and the other is draped over the steering wheel.

  “How are you doing?” I would swear I can see a million thoughts floating across his face before he finally responds.

  “I’m doing okay, too. I told my parents I can’t be the one asking her to take her medicine when they’re gone. It’s making me hate the one thing that gives us any hope for control and peace. I hate those pills.” His eyes find mine. “I won’t let those pills destroy my relationship with her.”

  “I get it. I wouldn’t want anything like that to come between Rosie and me. Someone should be looking out for what’s right for Maggie, but I think telling your parents that it’s not going to be you is what’s best for you and your sister.”

  We fall silent as we wait at the last light before turning into the school parking lot. When we pull into the school I feel a little nervous to walk in looking so different. Gabe comes around and opens the door for me, not scooting back as I slide down from the high seat. His eyes pierce mine before dropping to my lips. I feel my tongue slip out to wet them as he leans close to me, passing my lips to whisper in my ear.

  “You’re killing me in this outfit.” He reaches past me to grab my bag and holds it out for me. I take it and we walk through the main gate, my heart still racing from the look in his eyes. The second we clear the hallway together my eyes meet Brady’s. The look on his face makes my heart jump with recognition. It takes a split second to remember that I’m not doing this for his attention. His eyes dip down to take in the whole picture before looking back at my face. I notice my pace has slowed a little when Gabe’s hand softly touches my back, guiding me over to my locker. I don’t know if Gabe noticed him looking, and I don’t even care. Brady looking at me doesn’t feel right like it used to, and I’m happy to be in the company of someone who sees me the way Gabe does.

  “I’ll see you at lunch.” Gabe smiles at me. The bell rings and he takes a few backward steps before exiting the locker bay.

  I should have listened to Laura weeks ago when she told me to “Fake it till you make it,” and encouraged me to dress the way I wanted to feel. Now I understand the message she was trying to give me. I feel lighter and happier. Today it seems like everyone is looking my way. More of my old friends approach me throughout the morning and I wonder if it’s because I have a smile on my face again.

  Even with all the attention, the only person I truly want to spend time with is Gabe. When I find him at my locker at the beginning of lunch, I almost want to kiss him right there. He tries to hide his smile as I make my way across the quad to where he is waiting, but I can see the twitch of his lips right before he loses the battle and a full smile spreads across his face. He’s shaking his head when I reach him.

  “If I have to hear about how hot you look from one more guy today I might have to start breaking noses.”

  “Shut up,” I tease, giving him a small punch in the arm. I find my lunch bag and we walk over to what I’ve begun to think of as our place. Today the energy between us feels charged. I fight the urge to touch him and can’t help but let my gaze linger on him a little longer than before. When there are only a few minutes left of the period, he scoots closer to me on the bench so that our legs are pressed together. His hand slips around to my lower back. It feels wonderful to be this close to him even if there is a chance that other kids will see.

  When the bell rings, his eyes fall to my lips. I’m so tempted to kiss him, even just to stroke his face or run my hands through his hair, but doing so in front of our classmates might force us to define our relationship . . . and I’m not ready to do that yet.

  The rest of the day seems to drag on and I don’t feel free until I’m taking my place on the bleachers, waiting for Gabe to be released from practice. He notices me the second I walk in, swimming over to my side of the pool and splashing a little water out at me. The coach calls him back when the other guys finish their laps and I wait for him to take a quick shower before we leave for counseling.

  It feels weird yet oddly comfortable to drive to Laura’s with him. He reaches across the bench seat and takes my hand in his, holding it the entire ride. I tell him about the kid who tipped over his desk and was trapped for a while in my fifth period class. As the two of us drive along, I almost ask him if we’re still just friends. I haven’t started a relationship in so long I forget how it all goes. I’m still contemplating all of it when we enter the waiting room and take our seats on the low couch. Our friend is in her usual seat, her jaw dropping to the floor when we walk in together and he rests his arm behind me on the couch.

  His therapist gets him first, and I glance at the clock to see if Laura is running late. Finally, after a few more minutes, her door opens, and as her previous client leaves she motions for me to come in. I’m holding only my thought log, having left everything else in Gabe’s truck. She squints her eyes at me and then kicks her feet up onto the edge of the ottoman. “You look great. Is this the girl you were before Brady or the one you want to become?”

  “The one I want to become.” I’d been thinking about it all day. It feels good to take care of myself. She nods her approval and I feel happy with that.

  “So what’s been going on, Everly?”

  “Time,” I answer teasingly.

  “That it has, that it has.” She rocks back in her seat and gestures to the folded paper on my lap.

  I unfold the thought log and hand it to her. “I think I’m getting better at this,” I say as she stands and makes a copy for her records. “It helps a little more now.” She hands it back to me and reviews the copy she’s holding.

  “I’m glad it’s working for you. Do you have any questions about it?” She spins her pen in her hand.

  “No, not about that.”

  “Oh, about other things?” She stops spinning her pen and waits for me to continue.

  “When will I know if it’s okay to start a new relationship? If I do it too soon will it fall apart?” I grab a pillow and hold it to me.

  “There isn’t a magic equation for that. You just have to go with your gut. If it feels good to be with the new person and if you can give him a fair shot at building something without thoughts of Brady flooding your head when you’re together, then you’re ready.”

  “How do I know if I can give him a fair shot?” I kick my shoes off and tuck my feet underneath me.

  “Only your heart can guide you. Are you thinking of seeing someone?” Her question makes my cheeks heat a bit.

  “I think I might be already. He knows about my history with Brady and he seems to understand that I sometimes have a hard time separating my life now from my life before.”

  Laura nods her head. “What is life like now?”

  I begin to pull at a long string on the pillow. “I’ve built stronger friendships outside of Elle and Brady. At lunch I’ve been sitting with other friends when I’m not committed to a peer mediation shift. There are a few really important new people in my life, but this time it doesn’t feel like my whole world is revolving around someone else.”

  She writes something down and then looks back up to me. “You’re afraid all of that will stop again if things don’t work out with someone new?” I let go of the string and look up into her eyes. She leans in, hugging her knees a little to close some distance.

  “It was just so hard to find the energy to get back into everything after he broke up with me. It just felt hopeless.”

  “Grief is normal. A lot of people sense a feeling of hopelessness when they experience a loss. You experienced a low, but you didn’t get stuck there. You’ve grown and put some good effort into rebuilding your life.” Her words put weight behind what I have been doing lately. I’ve learned it takes a lot of pieces to put a life back together, and I don’t ever want my world to revolve around anyone else again.

  We talk about spirit week and how great it felt to be a part of its success. If you had asked me
weeks ago to imagine things working out the way they have, I’d never have been able to. When the session comes to a close, Laura asks me one final question. “Do you think you and Gabe will go to prom together?”

  I shrug my shoulders, but I can’t help the small smile I feel raising my cheeks. I’m not sure I have the guts to ask him, but the more we talk about prom in student council, the more I am feeling excited about going. Maybe it’s because I’m getting used to doing things without Brady, or maybe it’s because I imagine doing more things with Gabe. Whatever the reason, it shows me how much progress I’ve made in getting past this whole terrible experience. With a big smile and cheeks that are flushed with a little embarrassment I admit, “Maybe.”

  twenty-two

  AFTER HITTING A little traffic on the way to the Staples Center, Gabe parks in a public lot a block from the arena. I’ve never been to anything like this and I feel a rush of excitement as the streets fill with other concertgoers and merchants selling souvenirs. Gabe takes my hand when I get out of the truck, and we move along the sidewalk in the current of people.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks, leaning in so I can hear his voice over the buzz of the traffic and the angry horns of the impatient drivers. I love the way his warm breath feels against my skin and how comfortable it is to be this close to him.

  “Yes. My mom wants to buy our dinner. She gave me money and told me I should insist.” We step off the curb along with a large group of teenage girls wearing bright-green T-shirts with giant black Xs on the front.

  “Then you can choose where we go.” He tugs me to the right, separating us from the mass of people heading toward the concert venue. It’s at this exact moment that our time tonight starts feeling like a real date. There’s a part of me that can’t imagine a more perfect night or a more perfect person to spend it with, but another part is screaming that I am not ready for this yet. Gabe squeezes my hand lightly and stops me, turning so he can look into my eyes. “You okay?”