Falling to Pieces

by Leddy Harper

  “For the record, I don’t think that. I said it because I wanted to. Because it’s true. I’m not the kind of guy that gives a girl a compliment, looking for something in return.”

  That calmed me down for whatever reason. I never thought he’d sent me that text because he felt he had to, but I guess I needed to hear him say that. I knew it would be a while before I could hear those types of sentiments without doubting their significance. I’d never heard them directed at me before. But I also didn’t want to get used to them, either, out of fear they’d all end and I’d be left with nothing but the memory of it all. It felt so good to hear affection from someone that the thought of losing it all again distressed me.

  “Tell me more about your sister.” My words were an attempt to change the subject, and to learn more about his growing-up years. We had many conversations about his family, and I loved hearing his stories. To me, they sounded like fairy tales right out of a book. The thought of a family actually showing love and support was unfathomable to me.

  “She’s a pain in the ass.”

  I could tell from his light tone that he had a smile on his face.

  “They’re so excited about the baby coming this summer. They don’t know what it is yet, and it’s driving her crazy. Tracii is a planner and has to have every I dotted and T crossed. Not knowing how to decorate the nursery or what color of clothes she should buy is sheer torture. No matter how many times I tell her not to stress about things that she can’t control, she won’t listen.”

  “Are you excited to be an uncle?”

  “Very! I love kids, as you can probably tell from my chosen profession.” He laughed and continued on. He spoke of how his family had reacted to his sister’s pregnancy news. His parents had been over the moon at the mere thought of being grandparents. I couldn’t begin to imagine what holidays looked like while growing up at their house.

  We talked for two solid hours, and when I yawned for the fourth time in ten minutes, we decided to go to bed.

  He ended up sending me another text Tuesday morning before school. The same Good morning, beautiful start, except this one said, 53 more minutes until I get to see your face. It made me blush as I finished getting ready for school.

  Less than an hour later, I walked into his class. He stood at his podium as promised, except he turned his head, met my eyes, and gave me a small, ever-so slight smile. I couldn’t be mad at him since I was unable to keep my eyes and grin to myself, either. After I sat down, he caught my attention again, slyly motioning to his desk with short, abrupt nods. When I turned to see what he meant, I found my CD sitting on top of a stack of papers. I grabbed it quickly and then stuffed it into my backpack.

  The rest of class was fine. He kept to his promise and acted no different than he had the past two weeks—however, he did it without the complete look of misery on his face. Of course, Jill and Rebecca noticed.

  “I bet he got laid,” Jill whispered across the narrow aisle, but it was loud enough for me to hear.

  “Kayla said she saw him at the grocery store yesterday with some blonde. Apparently, she was wearing a diamond ring and buying prenatal vitamins. Poor Kayla, she’s been crushing on him hard ever since the beginning of the school year. I guess he was a substitute teacher for her once last semester, and she thought she actually stood a chance with him.”

  I had to roll my eyes as they gossiped back and forth. I found it funny, probably since I knew the truth. Tracii and Axel couldn’t have looked that much alike if Kayla didn’t see the resemblance. But then again, you usually only see what your mind wants you to.

  Before class ended, I wrote Axel a note, folded it up, and slid it under his keyboard. I knew he wouldn’t find it until later, but I didn’t care. Once he read it, he’d know who it was from, yet at the same time, no one else would.

  Good job today! You get an A. xo Wolf Eyes

  I noticed a text on my phone just before lunch. It had come in earlier that day, but I didn’t check my phone often in school. I guess I still wasn’t used to having one.

  Is it tomorrow morning yet? I already miss your face.

  It gave me a pep in my step for the rest of the day. One day and he’d already given my confidence a jolt.

  Things were great for about a week and a half, but right before the two-week mark, paranoia settled in and wouldn’t let go. I knew it was silly—Axel even told me there was nothing to worry about, that the two-week stigma was a myth, but I couldn’t seem to shake the dread. I knew I’d started to pull away some in a way to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable. It was as if I needed to brace myself for the big blow. Why did I feel it was inevitable? Because things had been good, too good, and from my experience, everything that goes up must come crashing down. I had my entire childhood as a reference.

  But Axel wouldn’t let me pull back too far, always doing his best to relax me. I’d become the snag in his fishing line. Every time I drifted mentally, he quickly reeled me back in. Most of the time, it was nothing more than goofy conversation that brought our effortless teasing back to the forefront. Sometimes, he’d tell me to listen to a certain Guns N’ Roses song from my CD while he did the same. Then he’d call me and tell me what he thought about while hearing it, always keeping his thoughts clean, of course. And then I’d offer my own opinions and views of the lyrics.

  The last one we’d listened to was “Don’t Cry.” I wasn’t too fond of the song, but I listened to it like he’d asked me to. The worst part came when he sent me a text afterward instead of calling. He didn’t say anything about the song like he usually did, only asked me to meet him in the trees behind his house at noon the next day. Panic kept me up all night, tossing and turning, fearing what it all meant. I couldn’t block out the fear of the two-week curse I’d joked about. This weekend marked two weeks exactly since we made up and started this new relationship. That alone had me wrapped into a ball of nerves, but nothing compared to his song choice and cryptic text.

  Running on barely no sleep, I stumbled my way through the trees the next day. I had counted down every second until my clock read five till noon. Now I was on my way to meet him, and every step I took brought me closer, which made my heart beat faster, my legs grow weaker, and my stomach twist tighter. I wanted to vomit and turn around, run back home and hide until the weekend was over, but I forced myself to keep going. It wouldn’t matter if he broke my heart today or the next. Either way, I’d be devastated. My preservation wished that I could just have it over with.

  But then I found him, sitting on a stretched-out blanket between the trees. Our eyes locked and I stopped moving, the air in my lungs evaporated and left me breathless. Or maybe just the sight of him did that to me…

  After a second, his face softened and then a wide smile spread across his lips. Those lips…I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about them for two weeks, ever since he’d touched them to mine. And in that moment, all the worry, panic, and paranoia blew away with the cool breeze that rustled the leaves around me.

  “What is this?” I asked as he held my hand, helping me sit down next to him.

  “Lunch.”

  “Oo-kay…but why? What for, I mean?”

  He rolled his eyes dramatically at me as if I’d asked a stupid question, but then he released a faint chuckle before answering. “Because, Bree, it’s noon. People eat lunch at this time.” He pulled a bottle of water from a cooler and handed it to me after twisting off the cap. “But if you’re wondering why I asked you out here for lunch, it’s because I want to prove something to you.”

  I waited patiently as he took everything out of the cooler and laid it around us. He’d made sandwiches, had a container of macaroni salad, and a bowl of grapes. Nothing fancy, but it was perfect. At least I’d have a good last memory of him when things ended between us.

  “What did you think about the song?” he asked while handing me some food.

  “I thought it was sad, and that it meant you’re breaking up with me.”

 
; “How exactly did you get that from the song?”

  “It talked about kissing each other before saying goodbye. That he’d always think about her and not forget the time they had together. I looked up the lyrics, Axel. That’s very much a break-up song.”

  He placed his hand over mine and waited to speak until he knew he had my full attention. “Songs mean different things to different people. When I listened to that song last night, I heard something else. I heard a guy that was heartbroken because his girl wouldn’t open up to him. He begs her to talk, to tell him what she’s feeling. He sees something going on inside her, but he can’t help because she won’t let him. I heard a man that wanted his girl to give him something, a whisper or a sigh. And if she decided that it was the end, all he asked for was a kiss. He just wants her to be okay.”

  “You got all that from a song?”

  He smiled and ran his thumb over my cheek. “I did.”

  “There were…um, other lyrics in there.”

  His hand immediately dropped and it made me look away. “Don’t think too much about that, Bree. He loved her, so he told her so. I’m sure the song wouldn’t have been as great if he’d said he only cared about her.”

  “So you don’t…?”

  “I’m not ready for that yet. I still have a lot to work out in my head before I can answer that question.” He knew which lyric I referred to, the one about loving her. And I’m glad because that saved me from having to say them out loud.

  “I’m okay with that. Because I’m not ready, either.”

  We exchanged an understanding glance before eating our lunch in silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence or one filled with tension. It was calm and easy, just like we always were when we were together.

  For dessert, Axel pulled out a small chocolate cake.

  “What’s this for?”

  Not even bothering to slice it, he took the top off and handed me a fork. “It’s kind of a collaborative celebration. Valentine’s Day and your birthday. I missed both, and I wanted to make up for it. What better time to do that than now, on our two-week whatever you wanna call it.”

  “Anniversary?” I hoped he couldn’t hear the concern in my tone.

  “No. That’s ridiculous. We’re not in middle school. I just thought that since you have such a fear over this insane thought about some two-week curse—which is completely made up by the way—I’d show you how wrong you are.”

  “Are you some kind of romantic at heart?” I asked teasingly.

  “I call myself passionate. When I care about something, I’m all in. Like with school, I’ve always been obsessed with history. I used to want to pursue a career in politics, but quickly decided against that once I was old enough to understand the corruption of it all.” He dipped his fork into the cake, sliced off a piece, and offered it to me first.

  “I’d think that would make you want it more. I mean, doesn’t this country need more positive and honest leaders?” I asked after swallowing the bite with a soft moan.

  He dropped his head for a moment, and I thought it had to do with what I’d said, but I quickly realized by the flush in his cheeks that it wasn’t. Apparently, I had a bigger effect on him than I realized. That, in turn, made my cheeks flush in embarrassment for the moan that I’d allowed to pass through my lips.

  “In theory, that makes sense,” he said, once he regained his composure. “Except I’m sure a lot of the corrupted politicians started out honest. Look at it this way…you have to spend money if you expect to run in a large campaign. To spend that money, you have to make it—donations. Well, corrupted individuals that want the law in their favor will back you, and at some point, they’ll want to cash in the IOU. I don’t want any part of that. So I decided to teach our youth instead. I hate how this generation doesn’t pay any attention to the news. They have no idea what is going on in the world around them…hell, they don’t even know what’s going on in their own back yard. They halfway hear things and then take it for face value. Sarah Palin for instance. I won’t get into my opinion of her, because that could take all day. But I’m sure you’ve heard the rumor about how she said she could see Russia from her house. A lot of people honestly believe she said that. But in truth, Tina Fey said that during a skit for Saturday Night Live where she was impersonating Palin. I just want the youth to pay attention more instead of believing hearsay. And not just regarding politics, either. And that’s just one example out of way too many.”

  “My generation thanks you,” I said with a smirk.

  “Any thought about what you want to do after school?”

  I shrugged, wondering how to explain my goals. “Well, there is something I’ve always wanted to do, but I don’t know if I’ll like it since I’ve never been given the opportunity to try. And my mom wants me to be a lawyer. But honestly, I have zero desire to do that.”

  “Your mom has no say so in what you do for the rest of your life. She’s not paying for your school, so if you don’t follow in her footsteps, what’s she going to do about it? And what is it that you want to do?”

  I shoved another bite of cake in my mouth to give me time to answer. “She can’t do anything, and she knows it. It’s why I’ve made no effort to prepare for a law degree, which is just another reason for her to hate me. But I’m fearful of what to do, because I’ve always wanted to design furniture. I know, it sounds silly, but every time I look at a desk or coffee table, I can’t help but picture how I would’ve made it differently. I come up with all kinds of diverse styles of beds, and wish I could just make my own.”

  “That’s not silly, Bree. And why does that scare you?”

  “Who wants to design furniture? I’ve never heard one person say, ‘I want to design furniture when I grow up.’”

  “Lots of people. You’d be surprised. I mean, realistically, there has to be people that say that, otherwise we’d have no furniture. But it wouldn’t matter if no one wanted to do it. The only thing that counts is that you want to. You’ve got to stop worrying about what other people will think and just go for it.”

  I licked my lips and watched his mouth as he swallowed, the thought of kissing him crossing my mind for like the millionth time.

  March came and brought with it warmer weather. Weekends were spent outside amongst the trees. Sometimes we ate lunch on a blanket, other times we just sat and talked. Things with Axel were so easy. I felt comfortable telling him anything, and it seemed as though the feeling was mutual. He told me all about his parents and sister, and stories of when they were younger. He had the best family, and it made me yearn to have that for myself someday. It also made me realize how drastically different my childhood had been compared to his.

  I woke up every morning to a text message, letting me know that I’d been his first thought of the day. After that initial lunch date in the woods, I’d stopped worrying about us and the nonexistent, two-week curse. He made sure I knew that we were okay. Better than okay. He didn’t even have to say anything. I could just feel it being around him. The electricity sparked when we were near one another. Even apart, the current continued to flicker in my chest, lighting up my world brighter than it’d ever been before. It burned so bright that, sometimes, we found it difficult to keep our hands to ourselves. But we’d made a pact with one another, and we wanted to take it seriously, so we stuck to the rules, never going beyond holding hands.

  April brought rain showers, threatening our personal time together. Since we’d decided I wouldn’t go inside his house, and we were unable to be together in public, that meant we saw less of each other. But I guess that worked out for the best, because we both seemed to struggle with our attraction and feared our relationship had begun to move in the wrong direction. We ended up talking one day about it over the phone.

  “Do you ever wonder if we would be together had we met under different circumstances?” I’d asked, becoming slightly insecure.

  “I’d like to think so.”

  “So think about it. How much of this be
tween us do you think is enhanced due to the forbidden aspect?”

  “Bree,” he’d said on a sigh, warming me instantly because I knew his next words would be the truth. “I’m not the kind of person that likes forbidden things. They freak me out, to be honest. Just the fear of getting caught probably takes ten years off my life. I can’t speak for you, but for me, being with you has nothing to do with that.”

  “Same here. But I’ve been looking up other stories about teachers dating their students, and almost none of them work out. Professionals say it’s because the allure of it goes away once the relationship is no longer considered taboo. They also say that most of the time, it’s a male teacher and female student, and that makes him a pedophile.”

  “Do you think I’m a pedophile, Aubrey?” I could tell by the way he’d asked it, that I’d somehow offended him.

  “No. That’s not what I meant. I was just telling you what they say.”

  “I know what they say. And that shit bothers me.” His words had come out in a growl, and I knew immediately that I’d pissed him off. “There are real sick people in this world, monsters that prey on young kids. And the more society points their finger at guys like me, accusing them of doing the same thing as those disgusting perverts, it lessens the real situation. I don’t find young girls attractive. I don’t look at teenagers and have perverse thoughts. Falling for one girl, who just happens to be a year away from being eighteen, doesn’t make me a pervert. It doesn’t make me a pedophile. But that won’t stop society from labeling me as such.”

  “I didn’t mean to make you mad. I wasn’t accusing you of that.”

  “I know.” With his sigh, I could practically feel him relaxing. “I just hate how society is making the real issues fuzzy. It’s not just about this, it’s about a lot of things. There are real pedophiles out there, ones that prey on the young and weak. There are true racists out there that do despicable things to people, say hateful words, and go out of their way to hurt others. And as a society, we’re not doing the real victims of racism any good by throwing that word out all the time. We’re not doing anyone any good by ignoring the real issues and falsely accusing people of things.”