Shattered Love

by Stacey Marie Brown

  At least Savannah didn’t ask many questions, mostly talking about herself and her drama. We got to the doorway of my class. “I’ll see you at lunch. Glad you’re back.” She drifted away, waving over her shoulder. “I’ll tell Coach you’ll be there later.”

  I didn’t even try to argue. It was pointless. I inhaled deeply and took a step into the room. Colton had been in my first and third-period classes. Today I had to get through them without noticing the empty seat next to mine.

  I pinched my lips together as I walked into the room. Mom had sensed this would be a tough day and set up an extra counseling session for later. I didn’t want to go. The counselor would only force me to relive this, talk about it. I didn’t want to do either. I wanted to be left alone.

  “Good morning, Jaymerson.” My English teacher, Mr. Foster, nodded at me. “Good to have you back.”

  I nodded and moved toward my seat, my gaze drifted to the vacant desk beside mine. I settled down in my chair while students ran in as the final bell rang, filling the seats around me.

  I tried not to keep glancing over at Colton’s vacant spot, but my gaze drifted against my will. When I turned to look, Colton sat next to me, a goofy smile on his face. “Hey, babe.” His playful voice sounded like honey to my wounded heart.

  I jerked back with a yelp, closing my eyes. When I reopened them, the space was empty.

  “Jaymerson?” Mr. Foster called my name. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded, suddenly overly aware of everyone in the class staring at me. “Uh. Yes. Fine,” I replied, heat rushing over me.

  Mr. Foster didn’t look convinced, but he accepted it. “All right, class, attention back up here. I hope you did the reading, because we are having a pop quiz.”

  The class made a collective groan.

  “Except you, Jaymerson; you can take it later if you’d like.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’ll take it.” It was on a book I had read three times already for pleasure. Most rolled their eyes at my decline. I was ahead of everyone in most of my classes, especially health and science. Dad encouraged me there. I annoyed my friends when I did extra credit even when I didn’t have to. It was all for college. To make sure I got in. To where and for what, I didn’t know. I’d never thought that far ahead.

  The rest of the morning went by in a fog, my body a shell yearning for Colton, who was only there in spirit. Loud and strong. Pictures of him, football trophies in the cabinet, his memory saturated everything I looked at. There was even a sign-up sheet for a potluck to raise money to add a memorial for him next to the football field.

  At lunch, I thought I kept seeing him out the corner of my eye. It made me jumpy and distracted, not that I had to be attentive to the crowd I sat with. The boys talked about the away game on Friday. The girls whispered about the party Chloe’s new boyfriend was having.

  I stared out the window, watching the leaves flitter and glide to the ground, coating the sidewalk in oranges, browns, and reds. I’d never felt so alone. I had considered this group my friends, but without Colton, I realized I was an outsider. I understood what they talked about wasn’t silly and boring to them, but I couldn’t seem to pretend I cared now. Did I ever? If games, school, and cheerleading were important before, why did they so easily become nothing to me?

  Since the day I woke up, all I did was question myself and see myself from a different point of view. And so far I didn’t like what I saw. This realization created anger and restlessness. Did I even know who I was? It seemed all I did was play a role. Be the good daughter, student, and girlfriend. I did it to make people happy, to not make waves. But now none of those felt like they fit me.

  Losing Colton unraveled me, leaving me broken and stripped down to nothing. But how could you put yourself back together if you didn’t know who you really were in the first place?

  “How was it?” Mom pulled Grandma Nessa’s silver Mercedes out of the school parking lot. Dad drove our only car back and forth from the university. Our town was small and quaint enough that Mom usually biked or rode the bus to work. Having one car with three eligible drivers was becoming a huge issue, especially lately with all my appointments and training. Grandma Nessa let us borrow her car.

  “Fine.”

  Her mouth pinched. “Can you expand?”

  “It was fine.”

  “Jaymerson.” She sighed.

  “What do you want to hear, Mom? Classes are the same; everything else was horrible.”

  “Why was it horrible? Wasn’t it nice being with your friends again?”

  I glanced out the window. She wanted the best for me. I realized that, but I sensed if I said anything about how I actually felt, it would upset her. She didn’t know how else to help me get through this. My friends, cheerleading, getting back to a routine was how she thought I would get better. Those things seemed to be making it worse. I hated being like this. I had never been the disgruntled teenager, but the emotions inside were too strong for me to fight.

  “Nancy called again. She was hoping you’d help with a potluck.”

  “It’s not a simple potluck, Mom. It’s for Colton’s memorial.”

  “Yes,” she said sadly, keeping her attention fixed on the road. “It might be nice for you to be a part of it. They want to leave a lasting monument in his honor.”

  A strange laugh belted out of me. “Sorry your boyfriend is dead, but here is a bench your ass can sit on instead.”

  “Jayme, it’s more than that and you know it.”

  “Is it?” I responded. “It’s a plaque. A thing people do so they feel better about themselves.”

  “Jaymerson Vanessa, what has gotten into you?”

  “It doesn’t mean anything, Mom. It doesn’t bring him back. It only means something to the ones who didn’t really know him.”

  Mom gripped the steering wheel, her brows furrowing. She went silent, and I knew she was upset.

  The tension in the car built. I didn’t regret what I said, but I didn’t like hurting her. I knew she took off work to pick me up, losing much-needed money. I had heard my parents fighting about money, and asking my grandparents, all of them, for help with the medical bills. Insurance only paid so much. And the time they took off work while I was in a coma put us deeper in debt.

  Guilt overrode my true emotions. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I said quietly.

  She took a moment before letting out her frustration in a heavy exhale. “I only want the best for you, JayJay. I thought being a part of Colton’s dedication might help you have closure.”

  A monument to Colton would not give me any kind of closure, but I let it go. “I know you do. Of course, I’ll help with the potluck.”

  We drove into the parking lot of my therapist’s office.

  “You’ve been by yourself so much lately. It’s not good for you. You need to be with your friends and be part of things again.” She pressed her mouth together like she wanted to say more.

  “What?”

  She stirred, licking her lips. “Maybe it would help…if you visited Colton’s grave.”

  I still hadn’t visited the place where he was buried. I wasn’t ready to go there. He haunted me enough here. “No,” I replied sharply.

  “I thin—”

  “No. I can’t. Not yet.” I got out of the car. Helping with Colton’s memorial was one thing, visiting his grave was another. I wasn’t ready for that step yet.

  “Okay.” She nodded, watching me get out. She leaned over to peer at me. “While you’re here, I’m going to run to the store and get something for dinner. Your sister wants pasta. Again.” Mom rolled her eyes. My sister was in a pasta-with-butter phase. We had it a lot. “I’ll be here when you get out.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I closed the door. Mom hit the automatic window on my side.

  “I’ll also call Nancy and say you’re going to help out. Maybe in the next couple of weeks you can start going to practice. At least be there.”

  “Sure,” I said, when all I wanted to
say was no.

  As she drove off, it felt as if I were strangling the girl inside, the one who had been there the whole time but was ignored. The new version of me wanted to rise, but the more I put on the old skin, the more she was silenced.

  I was at a crossroads. I could either quash this new me and return to what they wanted me to be, or I could let her come out. The problem was she was angry, strong, fierce, and not looking to pacify people.

  I was terrified of her.

  Chapter Twelve

  The weekend passed in a cloud of tension. I had more tiffs with my parents than I had in my entire life. The moment I recognized this new fierce girl inside, she would not sit in the background and stay quiet.

  My sister had a strong personality. Stubborn and spirited. I liked that she was gutsy and determined. A pain sometimes, but overall I loved her more for it. But I started to watch my family with her, how they responded to her, laughing and enjoying her fierce personality. Yet the moment I said something bold, they stared at me like I had grown four heads and gave each other pointed looks, secretly communicating their displeasure or fear at my actions.

  Frustration at home spread to school, taking over through the week. I sat in class twitchy and impatient, staring out the window. It all seemed stupid and pointless. My knees bobbed, waiting to escape the room, to get far away from here. By the next Friday I wanted to implode. The only thing saving me was seeing Stevie during the week. Those were the few times I laughed or felt relaxed. Hunter had missed the week’s session, and I was curious what happened to him but didn’t ask.

  Coach Nancy and Savannah had both bombarded me that morning with potluck ideas. I said yes. To what? I had no idea. I didn’t care.

  “Ms. Holloway,” Mr. Kisner, the short, stout, uptight math teacher called to me. Today his deep yellow sweater made his round belly look like a jar of mustard. “I would like your attention up here.”

  I sat back in my seat, staring at the board. He continued with his lesson. I was ahead in this class too. Everything he talked about I already knew. It made me want to knock my head against my desk, hoping the painfulness of the class would lessen.

  I wasn’t naturally smart; I worked hard. But what was I working so hard for? I hadn’t even thought about colleges except the ones my parents wanted me to apply to or where Colton might be going.

  Jesus, Jayme, who does that?

  What an idiot I had been. Planning to attend a college because of a boy? I hadn’t even cared what school. It’s pathetic.

  I waggled my head in disgust at myself. I was honest with Colton the night I told him of my dreams to travel the world, visiting museums, and absorbing life in different places. Paris. London. Florence. Bruges. All sounded amazing. I had read in one of the college pamphlets they had a school abroad program. The thought excited and terrified me. That level of freedom? To not have my parents anywhere near me, to be able to do anything I wanted at any time in another country? I could hear my Grandma Penny whispering in my ear to jump. Live my life.

  If Colton were still alive, I would have pushed the thought away. I would have followed him to college. Not venturing out of his world. He was no longer here. My tether was broken, and it scared me to death. But for the first time, the fear was a little exhilarating.

  The rain over the weekend left the leaves on the ground wet and soggy, and I stared at them, creating abstract art in the deteriorating foliage.

  “Ms. Holloway!” Kisner’s nasal voice bounced off the glass into my face. I snapped forward. “I will not ask you again.”

  “Good,” I mumbled and turned my head out the window again.

  “Excuse me?” Two red splotches formed on his cheeks.

  I forced my gaze to stay on him but didn’t respond.

  “Well, Ms. Holloway, if you are sure you will pass this exam, which is worth half your grade, then please…” He swept his hand toward the door, his tone snide. “Be my guest. Go find something that holds your attention more. I hate to bore you. I’m here to teach the students who want to learn.”

  My feet itched to move, to get up and leave, to call his bluff, but outright disrespecting a teacher was a line I never thought I’d cross. Even Mr. Kisner. However, lately I wanted to do a lot of things I never imagined I would.

  I stayed in my seat.

  A smug smile quivered at the edges of his mouth. “Now as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” the round man arrogantly stated.

  I wanted to punch him.

  When the bell rang for lunch, I blended in with everyone. I could sense Kisner wanted to speak with me, but I didn’t trust myself to be left alone with him. I might say or do something detrimental.

  It wasn’t going to be long before someone hit my trigger.

  “Oh my god, did you hear Aubrey hooked up with a sophomore at the party Saturday?” Chloe leaned over the table with a conspiratorial whisper. She glanced over her shoulder at the girl in question, who was sitting at the next table. “She’s a senior! I mean, yes, he’s on the football team, but he’s like, a kid. A benchwarmer. It’s so gross.”

  “Seriously gross.” Savannah let her whisper ride through the air.

  I looked over at Aubrey. Her eyes darted to our table, then looked down, her cheeks turning red. She knew she was being talked about. I had never liked to gossip, even when I was dating Colton, tuning it out, ignoring their chatter. Sitting here, watching tears fill the girl’s eyes, I realized my silence was just as bad. Letting them be mean, because I was too scared to stand up and say something.

  Now their cruelty was like a hot poker. I growled in my throat, shaking my head, shoving my tray away.

  “You okay?” Savannah raised her eyebrows.

  “Not hungry. Suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.” And I don’t want to be here.

  “Well, please start eating soon because you’re making me feel fat.” She laughed, circling my wrist with her fingers. “Seriously, hospital food might be the best diet!”

  Frenzied anger ballooned my chest, and I bolted up, ignoring the pinching sting in my muscles.

  “Yeah, Savannah,” my voice vibrating with derision. “I also recommend having your boyfriend die, be in a coma for a month, and go through the most horrendous pain to walk again. It does wonders for your figure.”

  The table went silent, everyone stared at me.

  “Geez, Jayme. I was only teasing.” Savannah’s brows snapped together. “What crawled up your ass today?”

  “Teasing. Right.” I whirled around and left the cafeteria, needing air. My limp pulled focus and boiled more heat under my skin. I pushed through the doors and down the hall, breaking through the back exit toward the football field, gulping for air.

  Why did I react like that? Ever since coming out of the coma, I almost believed I had been put in the wrong body. The girl on the outside didn’t fit with the girl on the inside. I was lost, belonging nowhere, and to nothing.

  The muscles in my legs twitched, and I strolled across the tennis courts, stretching them out. Lately, I preferred to be by myself than in overcrowded cafeteria. Especially with people I was supposed to consider friends.

  Reaching the field, I took in a deep breath, my gaze catching on a figure alone in the stands. My lungs and feet stopped. I recognized him instantly. Hunter stretched out at the top of the bleachers as he leaned back onto the railing. His crutches lay next to him.

  He’s back at school? It had to be his first day back. We had fifth period together. I would have definitely noticed his return.

  He was alone, which seemed odd. He usually hung around his two friends, Jones and Megan, who still attended this school. Most of his friends didn’t. All of them were the anti-school types. The “tattoo, lip rings, metal music, smoking in their cars during lunch, doing the minimal work to pass” kind. Never a group I had cause to associate with.

  I took a step forward. The reasons to turn around and walk away completely outweighed the ones to keep walking, but I didn’t stop. It took me lo
nger than normal and my breath was short, determination keeping me going. I awkwardly climbed the steps and strolled down the aisle where he was.

  Hunter kept his head forward, not acknowledging my presence. I sat down on the bench, cold and slightly damp, leaving a gap between us.

  Some of the football players were on the field, showing off for a few girls clustered on the edge of the field, giggling and pretending not to notice the boys checking them out.

  We both stayed quiet for a while. He finally let out an exasperated sigh. “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be with the cheerleaders and popular crowd? Not hanging around the bad guy on the bleachers.”

  “Yeah, I should.” I rubbed my hands over my jeans, warming my muscles.

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I told you.” I slipped him a glance. “I. Don’t. Know.” His baseball cap blocked his eyes. A light scruff covered his face, framing his strong chin and defining his full lower lip. I looked away.

  We both pretended to watch the action on the field, but I was overly aware of his presence beside me. It was suffocating. And strangely comforting.

  “Maybe I don’t belong in that crowd anymore.” I kept my head forward, going back to his first question. “I don’t belong anywhere. I thought you might be the one person here who would understand.”

  He stayed quiet.

  “Ever since the accident nothing is the same, and I can’t pretend everything is fine, like they want me to. Friends, teachers, counselors, my parents… They had two months longer to mourn. They are ready to move on.” Bitterness darted in and out of my words. “I’m not.”