Our Broken Pieces

by Sarah White

  By the time the student council meeting is called to order after lunch, I have nearly drained my phone battery, constantly refreshing the screen and checking for messages from Gabe. Another rally is scheduled for this Friday to remind students about prom and the formal fashion show that will take place the Monday of prom week. The senior president comes up with the idea that we should all wear prom dresses or suits to the rally to get the other students excited about the evening. I nod my head in agreement and mark everything down on the activities calendar.

  I’d never go out and buy a dress for a rally that will only last for a half hour, but I know that Rosie has a beautiful dress she bought last year and then ended up outgrowing before homecoming. It was tragic at the time, but now there is a spare gorgeous dress ready for an occasion just like this.

  I pull my phone from my pocket again and try to check it inconspicuously under the table. I hold my breath as a message appears.

  GABE: Something’s wrong. I don’t know what to do. My parents haven’t responded to my messages.

  I feel my stomach drop and my heart race. My fingers shake as I type out my response.

  ME: What’s the matter? What’s happening?

  GABE: She’s acting crazy. She cleaned the whole house today and now she’s insisting on running off some of her energy. I can’t stop her.

  I hear the voices in the room around me but my world is shrinking, falling in on me so that all I care about is keeping this lifeline to Gabe. I feel helpless and so scared for him.

  ME: What can I do?

  GABE: What can I? FUCK she won’t stop. I can’t understand her. She’s just going on and on about random things.

  ME: I’m leaving. I’ll be there in a few minutes.

  I wait for his response but it doesn’t come. I finally lift my head to find the meeting over and everyone dispersing to get started on their assigned tasks. Balloons are being blown up and the acrid smell of markers is filling the room as butcher paper is laid on the ground and posters are made.

  I grab my bag and shove all of my stuff inside. I look around but don’t see Mrs. Cramier, so I swing my bag over my shoulder and vaguely mention to our secretary of sports that I need to head to the office for something. She nods her head and waves me off, too busy talking about what dress she will wear on Friday to notice there isn’t a thing I could possibly need from the office right now.

  The visitors’ gate is locked, of course, but there is no one around as I try the combo a few times. I’ve watched Gabe do it twice now and I let out a rush of air when the lock springs open. I close the gate and latch the lock again before heading for my car. I call my mom as soon as I am safely inside. When she picks up the line I wait as I hear her saying good-bye to a patient.

  “Everly? Is everything okay?” She sounds concerned and I swallow down the fear that is starting to cause bile to rise to my mouth.

  “I don’t know. I’m fine, but Gabe left school today because his sister was acting weird.” My mom knows he has a sister, but I didn’t tell her any more about it because it felt like a violation of his trust.

  “What do you mean by ‘weird’?” She is so calm, which is such a contrast to my beating heart and racing thoughts.

  “She’s bipolar and she’s not very good about taking her meds. Gabe got some alarming texts from her and couldn’t reach his parents, so he went home to make sure everything was okay.” I grip my steering wheel even though I’m still parked in the school lot.

  “He did the right thing. That can be a very tough situation. Has he heard from his parents yet?”

  “No. What should we do? I left school and I’m in my car. I want to help him, but I don’t know how.” I feel the tears sting the backs of my eyes but I force myself to relax now that I have my mom’s help.

  “Give me Gabe’s number. I’m going to call him and get his parents’ contact information. He can focus on his sister and I’ll worry about trying to get in touch with them. There isn’t much that you can do, sweetheart. Maybe just be there for him. Remember you can call 911 if you need to, but it’s probably best if she can be convinced to go to her psychiatrist or the hospital on her own. Don’t worry, honey, everything will be all right.”

  I nod my head even though she can’t see it and quickly pull the phone from my ear, disconnecting the call and bringing up Gabe’s number in my contacts. I send it to her and then a quick text to Gabe.

  ME: I called my mom. I’m sorry. She’s a doctor and I didn’t know what else to do.

  GABE: TY running

  I stare at his text, a little confused until I realize he is running with Maggie. Of course he wouldn’t want her to be alone right now. I turn the key in my ignition, determined to get to him. I head for my house and run upstairs, changing as quickly as I can and lacing up my running shoes. I check for texts from him but there is nothing. My phone begins to ring and my mother’s name flashes on the screen.

  “Any luck?” I stand up quickly and run back down the stairs and out to my car.

  “Not yet. I’m still working on reaching Gabe’s parents. He told me he and his sister are near the intersection of Anza and Sepulveda. I told him I’m going to send you to try to get them. Drive carefully.”

  “I’ll be there in two minutes. Thank you, Mom.” I toss my phone to the passenger seat and pull the car out, driving quickly to where he might be. I see them as they turn the corner and pull up slowly beside them. They are sweaty and breathing heavily. I can see the fear and worry all over Gabe’s face and he shakes his head slowly in defeat.

  “Hey, Maggie!” I yell out the window with a smile. She smiles back at me and waves. “Can I give you a ride?” It’s a long shot but I’m willing to try anything.

  “I don’t need a ride. Isn’t it such a beautiful day? I’m out here to feel the heat of God’s sun and feel him on my skin. It’s great to be so close to him and his creations. Come join us!” She motions for me to get out of the car.

  “It’s too hot to be running! Why don’t you climb in and we can go back to your house and sit on the deck?” My words aren’t even all the way out and she’s already shaking her head.

  “Not today, Everly! Can’t you feel it?” She tips her head back and throws her arms out, almost as if she’s a worshipper on Sunday morning. I watch Gabe suck in small breaths. He’s running out of steam and he stumbles a little when Maggie runs straight into the crosswalk without looking for cars. I pull over and jump out of my car, falling into step with them and tossing Gabe my keys.

  “Go find your parents,” I whisper, but the volume makes no difference because I don’t think Maggie is even listening to us. She is running like she just started, only her drenched clothing giving away the physical strain on her body. Gabe nods at me and then stops, putting his hands on his knees and bending over, gasping for air. I watch him over my shoulder. He stands up and turns around, punching his fist into the air in a show of frustration before screaming obscenities and collapsing forward again. I feel his pain all the way to the deepest part of me.

  I reach for the band around my wrist and pull my hair up into a ponytail, quickly wrapping it around and effectively pulling the hair off my neck to keep cool. Maggie turns to face me, a smile spreading across her face.

  “Yeah! You decided to join me. Doesn’t it feel good? I love this feeling.” She seems to bounce a little, and I smile back at her, saving my breath for the run ahead.

  I run beside her, feeling the heat of the day beating hard against my face. The perspiration is beading up around my hairline and dripping down my back, soaking into my shirt and the back of my shorts. I keep my breathing steady, letting my feet pound the pavement in step with hers. I’m clenching my hand around my phone, praying that Gabe gets to his parents before my stamina lets me down, or my phone battery dies and I lose my only ability to communicate with the adults trying to help us. We run for what feels like forever—the sidewalks once crowded with students leaving school grow sparse. The traffic picks up, letting me know t
hat people are leaving work and heading home. Still we run on.

  The vibration, when it comes, almost goes unnoticed in my swollen, sweaty hand. My body isn’t used to running in this heat and I can feel the change in my limbs as they protest the physical exertion. I look down at my phone, feeling a drop of sweat slide down my face before splashing my screen.

  GABE: Where are you? My mom had me pick her up and we’re leaving our house now.

  There’s no way I can type without falling so I hold my phone up and snap a photo of the road in front of me. I just hope he recognizes the scenery. I send the picture and clamp my fist back over my phone, careful not to let my pace fall behind Maggie’s. She is lost in her own thoughts as we race down the street past a large apartment complex. She’s beautiful, even with her hair stuck to her skin and the red, fiery blush of her cheeks from the sun and the physical strain. Her lips curl into a smile for no reason that I can ascertain, and I understand how hard it would be to love her and try to convince her that feeling on top of the world isn’t always healthy.

  We don’t stop even when I notice Maggie starting to show signs of fatigue. I’m already tired, but I’m in this for Gabe and I refuse to let him down. I don’t know what drives her to keep moving forward against the bite of our sore muscles and the punishing rub of our shoes against the swollen skin of our feet. We go on and on, and I know that as I run, she flies. She’s not here with me right now, her thoughts soaring to a place I could never reach without the aid of some chemical substance. What a miraculous and devastating experience it would be to walk a mile in her shoes. Instead, I run in mine beside her.

  I hear the familiar roar of Gabe’s truck before I see him on a side street ahead of us. He stops when just the front hood is visible from behind the house on the corner. When he steps out of his truck, he is still in his clothes from earlier, the material hanging from his wet skin. I almost cry—I’m that grateful to see the finish line of this relentless race. I worry that he won’t be able to make her stop, but then a woman who can only be their mother steps into sight and I hear Maggie slow her pace, falling behind me as we approach them.

  The woman, who so clearly resembles her daughter, quickly shoos tears away from her eyes and motions for Maggie to come to her. I slow down and walk beside Maggie, hoping that this is finally over.

  “Maggie, we need to go.” Their mother’s voice is soft but insistent. Maggie cocks her head to the side and wipes at the sweat before it has a chance to roll into her eyes.

  “I’m not going. There’s nothing wrong. It’s just a little exercise. The doctors say it helps.” She’s now stopped and I wait with her a few feet from Gabe and their mother. I feel like an outsider who should not be witnessing this tough moment between them. Mrs. Darcy only shakes her head and repeats the same motion for her daughter to come to her.

  “Maggie, we need to go,” she repeats and now my heart is hanging in the space between us. If she runs or refuses, it will completely shatter. I can’t watch Gabe hurt like this. His face seems so pained, his eyes red and swollen.

  “They’ll just send me home, Mom. I’m fine.” Only she doesn’t sound fine. She sounds disconnected and unconvincing. Her mother just opens her arms a little wider. Maggie takes a few tentative steps toward her. What happens next destroys a small part of me. She crumbles, her legs bend, and her arms wrap tightly around her own waist. She sobs as she begins to rock on the ground. I move to her and hug her before I even have a chance to think about whether or not it’s okay. She quietly sings, “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go,” over and over, quickly, until I feel my own tears hot against my cheeks.

  A soft hand presses comfortingly onto my back and I release Maggie, letting her mother hold her and pull her back to her feet. “Come on, baby,” she says warmly. We walk in silence to Gabe’s truck and I sit beside him in the front while Maggie’s mother embraces her in the backseat. I don’t ask where we are going because I already know. We take the quiet back road tucked behind the large hospital and wrap around a private street, stopping when we reach the front of the acute psychiatric hospital.

  A tall man with dark hair like Gabe’s is waiting on the bench in the front, along with two men in scrubs. All three smile at us as we pull up, and I know immediately that the man in the middle must be Gabe’s father. He helps Maggie and her mother out of the back. Then he opens my door as Gabe cuts the engine and slides out on his side. We all stand for a minute next to the truck, everyone aware of what is about to happen but no one ready to get it started.

  “I’m sorry,” Maggie says, lunging forward to wrap Gabe in her arms. He closes his eyes as he holds on to her, and I would give anything to know what he is thinking. He lifts her feet and spins her in a circle before setting her back down.

  “We’ll get this. One day we’ll get it right.” I hear the crack in his voice as he backs away, letting her wipe the tears from her face.

  She looks to me next and pulls me into a tight embrace. “Thank you for running with me.” She laughs a little through her tears and I do too, embarrassed to be crying in front of so many people I don’t know. I nod my head and step back. Maggie turns around and starts to make her way to the front doors of the facility. The men in scrubs walk peacefully beside her and I’m grateful that this is going smoothly.

  Gabe’s mother catches me off guard, wrapping her arms around me even though I’m sweaty and she’s clearly dressed for work. “I can’t thank you and your mother enough. I’m afraid to think what would have happened today if Gabe didn’t have you.” She lets me go slowly, hanging on to my wrists for a second before her husband places his hands on her shoulders.

  “Thank you,” he says over her head. I smile and nod. He looks to Gabe. “We’re going to have to stay here for a little while so we can meet with the doctor and make sure Maggie is settled in. Go on home. We’ll call you as soon as we know anything.”

  We stay where we are until his parents disappear behind the doors at the end of the walkway. They close with a loud clunk, punctuating the separation of Maggie’s world from ours. Without a word we climb back into Gabe’s truck and drive to his house, where my car is parked.

  Gabe pulls up outside but doesn’t immediately get out of the truck. Instead he turns to me and says, “Stay with me.”

  twenty-five

  AFTER SENDING A quick text to my mom telling her what’s happened, I follow Gabe into his house. My legs are weak from the pounding I put them through as I ran alongside Maggie—by far the longest distance I’ve ever gone. Gabe is still wearing his workout clothes and I can see the dark contrast of the fabric where it has been soaked with sweat. I run a hand over my hair, feeling the way it tangles in the matted wet strands.

  Gabe pulls me down the hallway to his room and into his en suite bathroom. He turns to me and the painful emotional struggle of the day is clearly visible in his eyes, but we are still silent. Today was traumatic for everyone. He toes off his shoes and I follow his lead, kicking mine to the side as our eyes lock. Even with the wear of today on his face, he is still strikingly handsome.

  I haven’t chanced a glance in the mirror, but I know that I must look horrible. I can feel my clothes sticking to my body. My face still feels hot from exertion and I’m sure it looks at least as worn as his. Knowing all of that, I still reach out slowly, lightly placing my hands on his hips and hesitating before tugging him a little closer to me. He doesn’t fight it, allowing his feet to close the distance and my nose to brush lightly next to his.

  This kiss feels different from the ones we’ve shared before. It’s like warm honey, sweet and slow, flowing from where our lips have met. His tongue dances with mine, a delicate movement that seems to speak of connection and love. Of course it couldn’t be, right? Have we known each other long enough for this to be love? The thrill of falling in that direction has been so fun and innocent, but the thought of actually arriving at the place where I hand over my heart is terrifying. Gabe pulls back and looks into my eyes again and
I can see that he feels it too.

  He lets go of me for a second and reaches into the shower, twisting the knobs until steam begins to billow out from above the glass doors. We haven’t said a thing aloud since stepping into the house, but I feel so connected to him. Maybe it’s our souls talking in some way we don’t know about, or the fact that we have just been through something so scary that no words could express better what we can see in each other’s faces.

  The bathroom fills with steam and he steps inside the shower stall fully clothed, reaching for my hand to guide me in beside him. The water falls onto his head and rushes over his closed eyes, falling in beautiful streams from his face. He opens his eyes and I notice the way they are rimmed in red, a reminder that he has been crying. My heart clenches in my chest and I reach up to touch his face, needing to soothe him. I feel my own eyes grow wet with tears as I softly rub my thumb across his cheek, desperate to erase his pain.

  His hands are back on my hips, spinning us around so that I am beneath the stream of water. He pulls the band from my hair and then combs his fingers through the tangles, clearing paths for the water to rinse away my sweat. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, wanting the water to wash away the reminder of the fear and despair I felt while running with Maggie. Gabe’s hands leave my skin and I tip my head back up, opening my eyes to see where they’ve gone, missing them already. What I find is Gabe taking in my image slowly, studying the water as it covers my clothes and makes them stick tightly to my body.

  My breathing changes with the look on his face, his own heavy breaths giving away his rapid heartbeat and growing desire. His eyes are hot and predatory when they reach mine and I have never felt as needed as I do right now. We stand in the steam and spray of the hot water locked in a world of our own. He seems to be holding back while everything inside me is aching to touch him and give him comfort to push away his pain.