Before We Fractured: Books 1-3

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Before We Fractured: Books 1-3 Page 5

by Bradon Nave


  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you skipped lunch? You didn’t eat lunch because your nerves wouldn’t allow that…correct?”

  “Yep…right again,” I muttered.

  Dr. Cline walked casually to a drawer within the bookshelves. He opened it and retrieved a granola bar and a small package of chocolate-chip cookies. “Here…doctor’s orders,” he said, handing the packages to me.

  In all actuality, my appetite had returned mere seconds after Dr. Cline confirmed I wasn’t dying. I opened the granola bar and bit it in half. “Thank you,” I said with my mouth full.

  “Don’t mention it. You mind taking a seat up here?” he asked, pointing to the chair.

  As I made my way over, I finished the granola bar and tore into the package of cookies.

  “Jessie, when these things happen, when you have these situations arise…I want you to do me a favor.”

  “What’s that?” I asked as we both sat down on either side of the desk.

  “Remember you’re bigger than this. The mind is beautiful, but it’s big and there’s plenty of room to get lost. But you’re bigger than this. You’re in the prime of life—”

  “But so was he. He was just as young and just as healthy,” I said.

  “No, he wasn’t. He had cancer, Jessie. You don’t. Your mother had cancer. You don’t.”

  I didn’t know what to say exactly. In that exact moment he was right—he made sense, but that moment would be short-lived. They always were. It was always something. “So, how…how do I stay bigger than this?” I asked.

  “That’s what we’re doing now. We have to get you there. But until you’re there I need you to physically say out loud…I am bigger than this.”

  “Right now?” I asked, chewing.

  “Right now.”

  “I’m bigger than this,” I said lowly.

  “And I need you to remember that. You’re bigger than this. I want you to start the day saying that, and I want you repeat it out loud each time you feel there might be an issue at hand.”

  “Well, that’s the struggle. I never know when it’s going to happen. I just…I don’t even know what I do. I just know I’d be saying bigger than this a lot just to keep up.”

  “And that’s okay. Again, this isn’t a straight shot. Anytime you feel you have an overwhelming health issue, something that’s affecting your day-to-day activities, I want you saying that.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. And after you’ve said that, if you’re still convinced there’s something going on, please visit me. Even if it’s not our scheduled day or time. You may call or stop by. If I’m with a patient, I will see you as soon as I can.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, Jessie, would you mind talking about your relationship with your father?”

  “Not at all.”

  ***

  I left the office with an additional package of cookies provided by Dr. Cline. Walking toward the building door, I was surprised to see Duke talking to Kacey by his car, but relieved to see Lily standing next to him.

  I approached the three as Kacey began trudging toward the office. “How’s your bellyache?” To my amazement, it was no longer existent.

  “Oh…yeah, good.”

  “Good deal. We’re going to Wild Wings,” she said as she walked past me, leaving me dumbstruck.

  “D, did she just say we were—?”

  “Wild Wings, Jess. We’re gonna come pick her up when she’s done here,” Duke said.

  “Who’s idea what that?” I asked.

  “Hers, actually,” Lily chimed in.

  “What? Really?”

  “Yeah, dude. She wants to make some friends. Sure did have a lot of questions about you,” Duke continued.

  “What did you tell her?” I asked frantically, scanning Duke’s face.

  “Simmer…just that you’re a good guy and you like Buffalo Wild Wings. That is, if your little tummy can handle it,” Duke laughed.

  “Amusing. I’m actually starving,” I replied.

  “She’s really pretty, Jess,” Lily said.

  “Yeah, I know. And she likes Wild Wings. She has to be a murderer or something,” I said sarcastically, looking toward the office building.

  “Did you know Dr. Cline is her uncle?” Duke asked.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I guess they’re really close,” Duke continued.

  “And she’s his patient? Isn’t that a violation?” I asked.

  “Um…I don’t think she’s a patient. Not officially anyway. But hell, I didn’t interrogate the girl,” Duke said.

  “You don’t…you don’t think he would say anything about me to her, do you?”

  “God no, Jessie,” Lily chimed in. “My mother would rip my head off if even hinted at wanting her to disclose information.”

  “What does she do?” I asked.

  “She’s a physician’s assistant for Dr. Baker at the orthopedic clinic.”

  “Cory went there when he hurt his ankle,” I replied.

  “But…ah, yeah. You basically have a chaperoned date with the new girl tonight,” Duke said.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s you two that need the chaperone.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The carnage before us was massive. Sauce-covered napkins and greasy chicken bones created an almost barbaric scene.

  “I can’t…I can’t eat any more,” Duke said while patting his stomach.

  “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that man say those words,” I chuckled. “I’m stuffed too.”

  “Me three,” said Kacey, wiping her mouth once more.

  “Four…so, Kacey, are you liking it here or just…eh?” Lily asked.

  “It’s been okay. I miss my friends. I mean, who the hell wants to switch schools in the middle of senior year, but it is what it is. I’m going back to go to college, so there’s that.”

  “What…so what brings your mom to these parts?” I asked.

  “Her vehicle,” Kacey replied, smiling.

  “Oh,” I said bashfully, diverting eye contact. She was too pretty. Even when my words didn’t fail me, I found myself tripping over them.

  “Her brother-in-law, my uncle, lives here. My father passed away last year…and we wanted to be closer to family.”

  I stared at her. Her smile—so perfect, but it must have perfectly masked the pain lurking behind it. I didn’t know her pain specifically, but I felt I could identify with it. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said softly.

  “Thank you,” she replied happily. “I had seventeen years with the most wonderful father a girl could have ever imagined. I’m thankful for that…that’s what I wake up with. I wake up smiling every morning, and I make sure I smile every night.”

  “How?” I muttered.

  “How? Oh…a car accident—”

  “No, how do you wake up smiling?” I heard myself forcefully asking the question before I could seal my stupid mouth shut.

  She sat quietly a second, looking at the greasy collection before us. “I believe he’s watching over me. I think he wants me to smile. What parent wouldn’t want their child to smile?” she said softly as she looked toward me.

  I smiled lightly and looked to Duke and Lily—both seemed at a loss for words. I glanced back at her, attempting to formulate a response; Lily beat me to it.

  “That’s beautiful, Kacey.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “So, my best friend Sarah and I go to a kickboxing class every Thursday night; we have for years. We go watch a movie afterward. Do you think you might want to join us this week?”

  “Oh my God, yes. How long have you been going?” Kacey asked excitedly.

  “Since eighth grade…four years.”

  “Okay, you can’t make fun of me. But I’m definitely down,” she replied.

  “We won’t make fun of you, we’re usually a little tipsy when we go,” Lily said, sharply catching Kacey’s attention.

  “You drink be
fore you work out?” she asked curiously.

  “Oh yes. So much fun! We can pick you up around six.”

  “I could drive. I could drive us. I need to learn the area better anyway,” Kacey said.

  “Um…okay, yeah. Sure, what’s your number?” Lily asked.

  “Excuse me,” I said, standing from the table.

  “You a’ight, man?” Duke asked.

  “Yeah, D. Just need some air,” I replied without turning to face him as I walked from the table. As I pushed the door open, the cool rush of air reminded me the world wasn’t closing in on me. How can she smile? Why is she okay but I’m not? Am I ever going to be okay? I felt slightly defeated as I walked around happy couples entering the building with my head down and my hands in my pockets.

  “Jess,” Duke said from behind me—Dammit.

  “Yeah, D,” I replied in a shallow tone.

  “You okay?” he asked as he walked beside me.

  “I dunno.”

  “Talk to me, bro.”

  “I’m just…I’m just ready to be done with it all,” I said.

  “Whoa, man. What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean ‘done with it all’?” Duke asked as he grabbed my shoulder and turned me to face him.

  “Nah, man, I’m not saying you need to call the hotline or anything. I’m just ready for my brain to be sorted out.”

  “Dude. It will. This is just a small fraction of it, Jess. It’s a blink.”

  “What if it’s not, D? What if I never get over them and my head’s screwed forever?”

  “You lost them…we lost them, and you’re having a little trouble coping. It happens—all the time. You’re gonna get through this, Jess. We’re gonna kick ass in school next year, and the year after that, and the year after that. I’m gonna know your kids, yours will know mine…fishing trips and family vacations. You still gotta brother, Jess…you always will.”

  “D…dammit,” I said, smiling. His friendship—his loyalty, it was something I never had to question, something I never once doubted. It was something I never wanted to take for granted. “You’re an awesome individual, Mr. Austin.”

  “Whoa. Jess…are you…are you asking me out?” he asked loudly as a group of girls from our school walked past.

  “Say no, Jessie!” one of them shouted back to me.

  He raised his hand, motioning me for a high-five/handshake, and briefly pulled me in, slapping me on the back. “You got this, Jess. If you never believe another word that comes out of my mouth, believe that…you got this.”

  “I’m bigger than this…”

  “Sorry to disturb your romantic moment, boys,” Lily said as she and Kacey approached. I quickly pushed away from Duke.

  “Jessie, you’re an expensive first date, boy,” Kacey said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Your ticket…on the table,” she said, smiling.

  “Oh, gosh. Yeah, I better get that,” I said as I began walking in the direction of the front door.

  “I got it,” Kacey said sweetly.

  “What? I wasn’t expecting you to…I just needed some air—”

  “Next one’s on you,” she said quietly.

  “Yeah, D. I think you ate half a chicken farm. You’re lucky Momma just replenished my account.”

  “My bad, Tiger Lily. I was coming right back in,” he replied.

  “It’s cool, fool,” she said, hugging him around the waist.

  “It’s perfect out tonight,” Kacey said as she looked toward the sky. The moon’s reflection in her eyes was hypnotic. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She quickly turned to me, catching me in the act as I instantly turned away.

  “It’s…it is. It’s perfect. It’s beautiful,” I muttered.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Like a hollow cement stairwell, the halls of the high school echoed as I slammed my locker shut. I was the only one in the hall—all the classroom doors were closed. I was late for Davenjer’s class, but I had emailed her ahead of time. I’d decided to put some effort into my appearance, and it ended up taking a bit longer than I’d anticipated.

  I grabbed my bag and headed down the hall.

  “Kasper,” I heard behind me. I turned to see Coach Danes. Danes was about my father’s age, but he had the emotional capacity of a hyena on bath salts.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Can I see you in my office?”

  “Davenjer knows I’m late. I emailed—”

  “My office, please,” he insisted as he turned from me. His deep tone sent a shiver through me, but I followed obediently.

  “Close the door,” he said gruffly as I walked in his office. As I closed it, I sat my bag down.

  “You gonna yell at me?” I asked halfheartedly—not that I hadn’t been on the receiving end of his wrath in the past, but I hadn’t played basketball since junior year, so he had no reason to.

  “No, son. Take a seat,” he said with a kinder tone, not pleasant, but not as abrasive. “I wanted you to have this,” he said as he grabbed a box from the floor and sat it on his desk in front of me.

  “What…what is it?”

  “It was his stuff. I wanted you to take it. His jersey and his sneakers. There’s a plaque in there that I never had the opportunity to give him. I want you to have that too.”

  I eyed the box, wanting to run from it. I knew its contents would be painful—too painful. I slowly tilted the box toward me. His practice jersey was the first thing that came into view. It still had sweat stains where it had rested beneath his armpits—I couldn’t look any further; the last time I saw that thing was the day Coach noticed the odd bump beneath Cory’s collarbone.

  “Jessie…I know you think I’m nothing more than a hardass. But, uh…truth be told, I care about each and every one of you kids,” he said as he sat in the chair across the desk from me. “That boy…Cory was something special. He had something about his presence…the way he could just light up a room,” Coach Danes continued.

  “Yes, sir…he did.”

  “So did you, Jessie. So did you,” he said, catching me off guard.

  “Huh?” I asked.

  “Jessie…we were all so busy…I was so busy watching that awesome young man fight for his life that I didn’t realize what happened to you. For that I’m sorry.”

  “What?”

  “Well, from where I’m sitting, your light’s gone too.”

  “The hell are you talking about, Coach?” I snapped. I’d never spoken to Coach Danes this way before, but his words had me agitated. “My mom died. As soon as I had enough time to wrap my head around that, my brother got sick. On top of all that, I had you screaming at me for quitting the team, talking about how I was letting you down…I didn’t eat for thirteen days straight at one point, but you expected me to play basketball? And I had my dad…he was just as messed up as me, but he’s trying to keep my head together. Throw in a bunch of stupid grades from a bunch of stupid classes that I’ll never need…like ever, how was I supposed to light up your room, Coach? Tell me that, will ya? Tell me what I can do for you to make your day better…how can I light up your world?”

  “That’s not what I meant, Jessie!”

  “What do you want from me?” I yelled.

  “I want to see you succeed. Years from now when I see your senior picture on the wall in the hall, I want to have a good feeling about it.”

  “I’m trying, Coach,” I pleaded. “I’m in therapy, twice a week. My grades are better, and I’m hanging out with my friends…I don’t know how to fix it. If I knew how to fix it, don’t you think I would? Don’t you think I would make it better? If it takes a psychiatrist two days a week, for God only knows how long, to figure my head out, what makes you think you can?”

  “I’m not trying to figure your head out, Jessie. I just don’t know how to reach you.”

  “Really? Dramatic, Coach.”

  “We watched your brother waste away, and there wasn’t a damn thing any of us could do about it. Now I’m wat
ching you, Jessie…it’s just as frustrating. I don’t know how to help you.”

  “I didn’t ask for your help. And if you think this is helping, then you’re mistaken. It’s not. I was actually feeling pretty good this morning until you started all this bullsh…” I turned from him and stared at the wall.

  “Jessie…I’m a coach, not a grief counselor. I obviously am not saying the right things. I just wanted you to know I care your well-being. If you ever need me for anything, I’m here, and I only want the best for you…I honestly mean that.”

  His softer tone and genuine disposition had me rethinking my hostility. I was, however, thankful for the opportunity to tell him how I felt. His constant harassment when Cory was bad was not only irritating, it was disrespectful and uncalled for.

  “I appreciate that,” I said solemnly. “I really do. But I think I’m going to get better. My doctor thinks I’m going to get better. I’m making progress, that’s all I really can do at this point.”

  “I agree,” he said as he rose from his seat. “I need to get to the gym. You can stay here as long as you like. Davenjer knows you’re here.”

  “’K,” I said as he walked past me.

  After he left, I found my curiosity mounting. I tipped the box closer to me once more. On top of the jersey was a photo of Cory, Duke, and me after a game. We were all happy—smiling and dripping sweat. It hadn’t been that long ago, but we all looked so young—like little kids. His basketball shoes were still tied—double knots. He never untied his shoes to take them off, he just pulled them off over his heel. I touched the shoelaces, knowing his fingers had once touched them too—they had tied them; the knot was the knot he’d tied. I then reached for the plaque. ‘Honorary M.V.P.,’ it read. It was dated the same week Cory passed away—the same week of the awards ceremony. Coach must have been anticipating giving it to him then, but Cory got too sick too fast.

 

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