He didn’t move an inch, but I felt him, more palpable than the air surrounding me.
“And some stupid memorial is not going to help.”
He snorted as if he concurred.
“I see things differently now. What I thought was fun, is now meaningless to me. I can see everyone struggling to understand me, thinking it’s simply a phase, hoping I will be over it soon. Then we can go back to how it used to be.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. I couldn’t even talk to my parents about this. As much as they loved me, I knew they wanted the same thing: to have me back to normal, before the accident.
Yet, I didn’t have a normal anymore.
“I miss him. Every day.” My fingers twisted around each other, aware of the intensity of Hunter’s gaze on me. “I miss being comfortable in my bubble. Blindly happy. Content with my life. But it’s not who I am anymore, and I can’t pretend to be. So, can I sit here, not pretending to be okay for a while?”
Hunter’s gaze held mine for a moment then turned back on the field. “Yeah.”
I leaned back against the railing, both of us content not to talk. He tossed a bag of chips down between us. I tugged out a chip, munching quietly.
“They asked me to be part of the memorial. I told them to fuck off.” He grabbed a chip. “My parents love the idea of course. Like it’s some consolation prize.”
“People don’t know what else to do.”
“Then I wish they would do nothing. Leave me alone.”
Wow. It was exactly what I had thought. “I agree.” We both went quiet again, staring at the action below.
“Being here is torture,” he said softly. “He’s everywhere.”
I looked over at Hunter, his blue eyes peering out from under the hat, locking on mine.
A common thread existed between us. An awareness no one else in the world had. He’d lost a brother, I’d lost a boyfriend, but we both lost a best friend. We lost the life we knew. An innocence to life only death robbed you of.
The bell signaled the end of lunch. I huffed, pulling my jacket in tighter around me.
“Better get going, Jayme. You don’t want to be late.”
“What about you?” This was the class we shared.
He stared over the now empty field. “I’m good here.”
“Have you made it to any class today?”
“No.”
I had never cut school, but the idea suddenly was appealing.
“Then why don’t you go home?”
He tipped his head against the railing.
“Because, sadly, this place is still better than being home.”
“It must be hard to be there. To have so many reminders of him.”
“Yeah, it is. But that’s not the only reason.” His mouth twisted as he chucked the bag of chips toward a garbage can below. It hit the lid and fell outside the can, curling his lip up higher. “Let’s say it’s not a warm, comfortable place to be.”
I’d been to their house enough and heard Colton complain about his parents. Mr. Harris was extremely strict with the boys and seemed constantly at war with Hunter. One time I heard Mitch screaming at Hunter about what a failure and fuck-up he was, wishing he was more like Colton. Julia sat there, letting the abusive words hammer down on her son without lifting her eyes from her manicure. I went home feeling disgusted. No matter if Hunter was a screw-up or not, it was awful to hear a parent talk to his son that way.
Mr. Harris was also tough on Colton, but in a different way. It was always about football, pushing Colton to be better. Mr. and Mrs. Harris came to every game, and the one time I saw Mitch hug Colton was when our team won the state championship.
“Let’s say I’m not the son they wished lived.”
I had no response. Time ticked and I knew the second bell would be sounding soon.
“Go, Jaymerson. You don’t want to get in trouble.” He glanced at me with scorn before he turned back to the field.
I pressed my lips together. I kind of did. A huge part of me wanted to know what it was like to actually rebel, to follow my desire rather than ignore it.
Instead I got up and did what I was supposed to.
I watched him through the safety of glass. He continued to sit on the bleachers all of fifth period, staring off. The history lesson ceased to hold my attention. The window facing the field was too much temptation.
“Jayme?” Mrs. Ambose softly called to me.
Here we go again. I angled my head back to her. I liked her enough, and yet history was the only class I didn’t excel in. I enjoyed the subject, but sweet as she was, her teaching style was dry and dull, never venturing off the set curriculum. No more, no less.
My body was listless and heavy after lunch and her soft-spoken voice had a sedative effect. History should be exciting, almost conveyed like a drama.
“I’m sorry, but could I please have your attention up here?” I hadn’t realized till then how timid and unsure she was.
I nodded, yet it wasn’t long till her voice numbed my brain again, returning my gaze to the field. Hunter was still and silent, but he demanded my attention.
He pulled a phone from his pocket, putting it to his ear. Who is he talking to? What is he saying? What did I really know about Hunter Harris? He shoved the phone back in his pocket, taking off his hat, rubbing his head, then shoving it back on.
“Jaymerson?”
Oh, for crying out loud. Why can’t anyone just let me daydream?
“Do you have your assignment?” Mrs. Ambose held a bunch of papers in her hand, students passing them forward.
“What?” I glanced around.
“Assignment?”
“No.”
“You don’t have it?” Her eyes widened in surprise.
I was one of her hardest-working students: always turned in assignments on time, passed every test, did extra credit.
“No. I don’t have it.” I stirred in my seat.
“What about yesterday’s?”
“Not that one either.”
Mrs. Ambose’s mouth pinched. She adjusted her glasses. “Come speak to me after class.”
No. I did not need this today. I stood up, reaching for my bag.
“Jaymerson, what are you doing?”
“Sorry. I’m not feeling well. I’m going to the nurse.” I headed for the door.
“You can’t simply leave. You need to ask for a pass.”
I walked through the door, ignoring her calls for me to come back. I couldn’t stop. Didn’t they see? I was tumbling into a void with no way of stopping.
Chapter Thirteen
I spent the rest of the period under a tree, near the spot they were dedicating for Colton’s memorial. Sitting here didn’t make me feel better, or closer to him. This would be the last place he’d want to be. But I knew memorials weren’t for the dead; they were to help the living.
When the bell rang for the last period, I went. Health and science was the only class I still enjoyed. Probably because at age six my dad bought me a microscope, encouraging my interest in science, and I’d begun dissecting and examining things. Mr. Fredrick, the teacher, was cool. He made class exciting. Here my mind was occupied, giving me peace from the relentless churning of grief.
After class, I walked to my locker, anxious to leave.
“Jayme!” My name echoed down the hall, Savannah’s voice ping-ponging off the lockers. I hobbled as quickly as I could but knew it was pointless. When she had her sights on you, there was no escape. “Jaymerson!”
I twirled my locker combo, preparing myself for her assault.
“Girl.” Savannah plastered herself over the same boy’s locker, cutting him off from getting in. “I’ve been screaming your name. Did you not hear me?”
“Uh. No.” I swung the door open.
“Did you go deaf too?” She shook her head, her ponytail swishing her brown hair back and forth. “I heard you walked out of Mrs. Ambose’s class. Not that I haven’t thought of it before. She’s so boring. Where
did you disappear to at lunch? You just got up and left. You’re not mad at me or anything? Because I was only joking.”
“No,” I lied. “I forgot I had to meet with Mr. Foster for extra credit. I’m still behind.”
Her hazel eyes narrowed and she leaned back, tipping her head to the side. Students moved around us, retrieving their items. “Funny, because Adam said he saw someone who looked like you in the bleachers with Hunter.”
I couldn’t say I had been invisible being with Colton as he had not been the fade-in-the-background type, but now the spotlight was on me, every move under scrutiny and judgment.
“Nope.” I shoved my math book in my bag, shaking my head. “Not me. Adam must have been mistaken.”
“Good.” Savannah rolled her head to me, her shoulders dropping in relief. “Because even though he was Colton’s brother, he’s a weirdo. Hot, but a total future felon.” She scrunched her nose. “And plus hanging out with his twin like he’s some replacement model... it’s definitely creepy.”
Savannah was not known for keeping her thoughts to herself. But unlike Stevie, hers were nasty and gossipy. At one time I found her amusing. That had ceased. Honesty was one thing, but Savannah could be downright cruel.
“You coming to cheerleading practice? We’re doing some final tweaks on the fundraising potluck.” It was set for Sunday evening, and I knew I should be at this meeting.
My locker slammed with a clank. “No. I can’t.”
Savannah rolled her eyes.
“I have physical therapy.” I could even sense the lie hang between us. She knew it was on Wednesdays. “Justin had to cancel Wednesday and rescheduled it for today.”
Savannah pressed her lips together, slowing her energy-filled strides to walk with me. “Whatever.” She waved her hand back and forth. “Then please tell me you’re going to Jason’s party?”
My mouth barely opened.
“Pleeeeaaasse, Jayme?” She linked her arm through mine, leaning her head on my shoulder. “You have to come. Chloe is going out with her college boy, and I have no one to go with.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Actually, you have no choice.” She giggled and bopped ahead of me. “I’ll pick you up at nine.” She hopped away, like an Energizer Bunny. The more she bounced, the more I felt energy being sucked from me. The last thing in the world I wanted to go to was a party. At that house…
I reversed the fizz of anxiety, swallowing it back. I hitched my backpack higher on my shoulder and strolled into the late afternoon sun. A chill hung in the air, the holidays nearing.
The parking lot was clearing out quickly. I made my way down the school steps, heading for the bus. My gaze drifted to a guy bending over a bench, his firm ass outlined clearly in his jeans. Almost as if he sensed my eyes on him, he straightened, bouncing on one leg, stuffing his crutch under his arm, and glanced over his shoulder at me.
An intense blush crawled over my face.
He still had his hat on but now also a pair of aviator sunglasses. He should have blended in with his dark jeans, T-shirt, glasses, jacket, and hat, but it only did the opposite.
I looked down at my feet. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Hunter said, keeping his focus on the cars in the parking lot. The veins in his arms popped under his skin, his hands clutching the handles of the crutches.
I felt like an idiot, but my feet would not walk away. “Getting picked up?” I knew the answer. He wasn’t allowed to drive yet; his legs were still too damaged. My lungs clenched with crippling fear at the thought of getting behind the wheel.
“Clearly,” Hunter curtly replied.
“So…you’re back to being a jerk?” I gripped the strap of my bag.
He scoffed, turning his head to look at me, my reflection catching in his glasses. “I was never not a jerk.”
“You want to hide behind the douchebag image you created.”
“Don’t confuse me for my brother. I am not the nice twin remember?”
“Believe me, Hunter, I could never confuse you two.”
“Really?” He scoffed.
“Definitely.” My lids narrowed. “You’re right; it’s not an image. You’re just a douchebag.”
He smirked, shaking his head. “I thought you hated me, and it was better if we stayed away from each other?”
“I did…do,” I fumbled. Walk away, Jayme. The silence grew between us, but I didn’t budge. Move feet! Move! What is wrong with me? Why am I still standing here with this jackass?
He shifted, hobbling a little, his mouth pinched. “What do you want from me?”
Like a bolt of lightning, emotion flooded my eyes, clogged my throat. “I don’t know,” I whispered. A connection, a lifeline, someone who understood? A piece of Colton back? It wasn’t fair to Hunter… or to me. Colton was gone, and I needed to deal with the loss, not substitute his twin.
A pimped-out blue Pontiac skidded into the parking lot, music blaring. The engine roared, rolling to a stop in front of Hunter. I recognized the driver as one of Hunter’s friends, Doug. Colton called him “Dropout Dougie.” He dropped out his senior year five years ago and worked as a mechanic downtown ever since.
“You say I don’t know a lot. Maybe you need to figure it out before you try to look to me for answers.” Hunter grabbed his bag off the bench and limped to the passenger-side door.
Doug peered over his glasses at me and smacked Hunter when he got in the car. “You’re leaving her standing there?” Doug motioned to me. “And you call me an idiot.”
I could only hear Hunter mumble the words “brother” and “girlfriend” over the loud music.
Doug shrugged. “She’s still hot.” He threw the car into gear, tearing from the parking lot, leaving me alone.
Waves of embarrassment, anger, and disappointment rolled over me. I was furious at Hunter, at life. Mostly I was mad at myself for reaching out to the one person I knew would bite my hand off. There was a big sign, and I ignored it. It only did what was in his nature.
I was an idiot.
“It sounds fun, JayJay. I think you should go.” Mom set the salad bowl on the counter. “You need to have a little fun. Relax. Be a teenager.”
“But it’s at Jason’s.”
“I understand, and I won’t force you.” She put her hands on the counter. “Your father and I think you need to face it. Maybe this is the opportunity. And if at any moment it’s too much, you can come home.” She rubbed my hand. “You will get through this. I know you will.”
Her last words seemed more for her than me. As a mother she wanted, needed, it to be that way.
I picked up a fork and stabbed at a dried cranberry, popping it into my mouth. “I’d rather stay home and watch a movie with you guys.” I dug my fork into the bowl searching for another.
Mom frowned. “Stop picking out all the cranberries.” She turned back to the stove, clicking the burner off. The smell of spiced chicken filled the house. “Believe me, you don’t want to stay home. It’s your sister’s choice of movies tonight.” She lifted her glass of wine with a knowing smile.
I grimaced. “Let me guess…it has a Disney princess in it.”
“I can’t wait till she gets out of this phase,” Mom said, taking a sip.
“Who out of what phase?” Dad strolled in setting down his stuff.
“Your youngest has movie choice tonight.” Mom leaned against the counter with a chuckle.
Dad collapsed over the table, groaning dramatically. I leaned over and patted my father’s arm. He lifted his head. “It’s not too late, right? We can escape. Crawl through the window,” he fake-whispered at me.
“I’m in this... you’re in this.” Mom shook her head. “Like hostages.”
Dad dropped his head again. “I need provisions. Quick!” He opened and closed his hand.
Mom grabbed the beer off the table and dropped it into his hand.
“Thank you.” He looked at Mom with adoration.
“You two are dorks.”
/> “It runs in our family DNA. But this,” Dad pointed at his beer, “will get me through another musical cartoon with princesses.”
“Whose idea was movie choice night?” Mom grabbed a hot pad from the drawer.
“Yours,” Dad and I said in unison.
“Oh, right.” She grabbed the pot of vegetables. “That was dumb.”
“Yes, it was.” Dad came behind her, kissing her shoulder. She smiled, looking over at him. He leaned in, kissing her again.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “Please stop. I will need more than therapy.”
“Speaking of…” Mom stepped back, bringing the pan over with her and turned to Dad. “Jayme is going to a party tonight. Getting out.”
“Mom,” I growled with annoyance. I hadn’t said I was definitely going.
“Really?” A familiar glance transpired between them. Relief, delight, and a little uncertainty. Scared if they said one thing wrong I would go back into hiding like a frightened animal. “That’s good, JayJay, you need to get out. Be a—”
“Teenager.” We finished together. It was the same spiel everyone was telling me.
“Plus, you’re the lucky one.” He came over, kissing my head. “You get to escape. Your mother and I are the ones to pity. Wait! Can I come? I’m not too old, right? They need a chaperone?”
“No, no, and definitely no.”
“Do you need a ride?”
I grinned. “Sorry, but you’ll have to keep trying to find another way out of here.”
“You going to drive?” Mom raised an eyebrow.
“No. Savannah said she’d pick me up.” Damn! I just committed myself to this.
“Daddy!” My little sister came screaming in the room like a tornado, already dressed in a princess costume with a pink swirly skirt and bright blue top with crystals all over it. She had a sparkly tiara on her head.
“Hey, trouble.” He leaned over, picking her up. She wrapped her arms and legs around him in a hug.
Shattered Love Page 9