Bend Me, Break Me

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “I don’t know what I’m doing with you,” I said.

  “Well, right now we’re talking on top of a mountain. I’m not thinking about anything beyond that.” I wished I could be in this moment with him. Not be shackled to the past. Not be worrying about the future. Just live and breathe now and now only.

  “Teach me how to do that,” I said before I could stop myself.

  “You’re doing it right now. You’re right here with me. Just breathe, Ingrid.” Something happened to me when he said my name. It shot all the way through me, like an arrow, getting past all the barriers I put up to protect myself.

  He put both hands on my shoulders and squeezed.

  “Just breathe.”

  My sweet, beautiful damaged girl. Damaged. Not ruined. Not broken. She looked up at me as if I’d asked her to do something impossible. As if I’d asked her to fly to the sun.

  “Breathe with me.” I inhaled slowly and she followed suit. I would do whatever it took to keep her in this moment with me. To keep her from retreating to the dark corners of her mind.

  We breathed for a while and she closed her eyes.

  “Better?” I asked.

  She opened her eyes and the tension was gone from her face.

  “Yes.”

  I let go of her and walked toward the car.

  “Come on, I want to take you one more place.” She followed me and I held the door open for her. I couldn’t get over the way she looked in my jacket. I never wanted it back so I could see her wearing it.

  We were silent on the quick drive to the generically named Sand Beach.

  I parked and we got out. It was a little chilly, but not too bad. I was cold, but I wasn’t going to take my jacket back. No way in hell.

  “I would say let’s take our shoes off and walk in the sand, but I don’t want you to get frostbite on your toes,” I said, trying to make things light.

  “It’s not cold enough for frostbite, but I definitely don’t want to have cold toes,” she said. We trudged through the sand and avoided the water as the sun sank low in the sky. I took her hand and she pulled it inside the cuff of the jacket so at least my right hand was warm.

  “It’s really beautiful,” she murmured.

  “Yeah, it is. And so are you.” I’d said it just to make her blush and I was rewarded.

  “Shut up,” she said, shoving me with her shoulder while still holding my hand. I laughed and pretended I was wounded.

  “That was such a line,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “So? It’s true.” I wasn’t above using anything I could to get her to blush or to make her happy. Yanking her out of her head for a little while was my main goal in life. And kissing her. That was the other. She was just so damn good at it.

  “So, friend, how has your day been?” I asked.

  “It’s been pretty good, apart from a tiny freak-out, friend.” She gave me a smile and I tucked it in my mental pocket to save.

  “I don’t mind your freak-outs at all.”

  “Why? Why don’t you mind? Most people would.” I shrugged. She didn’t need to know why I didn’t mind. Why she could do just about anything and I would still be her friend.

  “I guess I’m not most people,” I said, pausing and leaning down to pick up a rock.

  “Look. It’s shaped like a heart.” Okay, so it was shaped like a squished heart, but still. You could see it.

  “How incredibly cliché,” she said as I dusted the sand off the cool, slightly-wet rock.

  “I don’t care,” I said, shoving it in her pocket. I liked having little reminders and memories of her. She did too, judging by how many of my little presents now decorated her room. I loved knowing that the things I gave her were part of her private space even when I wasn’t there.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “I take that as a compliment,” I said with a laugh. There were a few other people on the beach with us. Running, walking their dogs, taking pictures of the sun glinting off the waves. It would be fun to come here in the summer, but that was a long way off. My first Maine winter was coming soon and I wasn’t looking forward to any of it. The snow, the cold, the bundling up every time you had to go to class. And since I wasn’t a fan of winter sports, I was pretty much screwed.

  “Do you like the snow?” I asked her. I’d figured out that if I asked her seemingly innocuous questions, she’d sometimes reveal more than she meant to with her answers.

  “It depends. As long as I’m warm inside and I don’t have to go anywhere, I love it,” she said.

  “Totally agreed. I know I should be happy that I’ll be in a state that has plenty of snowboarding and skiing, but I’m not excited at all.”

  “What about snowshoeing? That’s not too intense and can be really nice. I’ve done that a few times.” Something told me she hadn’t been alone when she’d snowshoed in the past.

  “I think I could be persuaded by a pretty girl to go snowshoeing. I mean, I could be persuaded by a pretty girl to do pretty much anything,” I said with a wink. That got me another blush. I shouldn’t call her pretty because she was so much more than that. Didn’t want her knowing just how incredibly stunning she was, though. I was afraid of freaking her out and probably would be for a while.

  “Maybe this winter we can go,” she said after a little hesitation. This was the first time she’d really talked about making future plans with me and I wanted to do an end zone victory dance.

  “Yeah, we’ll have to do that,” I said and she tightened her hold on my hand.

  By the time we were done at the beach it was dinnertime, but we were both cold and wanted to get back to campus so I stopped a drive-thru (that Ingrid assured me had vegan options) on the way back and we ate in the parking lot, fighting over the ketchup packets for our fries.

  “They never give you enough. No matter how many you ask for, they never give you enough,” I said, fishing around in the bottom of the bag to see if I could find any more packets.

  She grinned at me and held up a handful of them before dropping them in her lap.

  “Well, aren’t you sneaky?” I said and she looked so pleased with herself.

  “If you’re nice to me, I might share.” I looked at her lips as she licked a blob of ketchup off of the corner of her mouth.

  “What if I’m not nice?” I said, leaning toward her a little.

  “Well, then I’m definitely not sharing,” she said and didn’t pull away.

  I took a risk, dived forward and gave her a sloppy kiss. She squealed and moved away, but not before I’d snatched a few of the packets away from her.

  “Victory,” I said and she scowled adorably at me. There wasn’t anything she could do that didn’t make me want her.

  “You owe me,” she said, using a few fries to point at me.

  “I’ll make it up to you,” I said.

  “You’d better.”

  When we got back to campus, we sat in my car in the parking lot in silence. Seemed like neither of us knew what to say. It was like such an anticlimactic end to our day.

  “Thank you.” I turned to look at her. She stared down at her hands.

  “For what?”

  “For today. For getting me out of my head. For helping me start learning how to breathe again. I’d forgotten how,” she said with a breathy little chuckle.

  “You’re welcome. I’m happy to be of service. Any time of the day or night.” I cringed the second after I said it. “Ouch, I didn’t mean to make it sound that creepy.” She let out a sweet little giggle.

  “That’s okay. I knew what you meant. I didn’t know how much I needed a friend like you.” She sat up and leaned over the center console, reaching for my face. I met her halfway and she gave me kiss. No tongue, no searing passion or desperation. It was a different kind of kiss. A thank you kiss. A friendly kiss with a hint of something more. I wanted more. I wanted so much more. I wanted everything.

  “Goodnight, Coen,” she said, getting out.

  “Goo
dnight, Ingrid,” I called after her and watched as she walked toward her dorm, still wearing my jacket. I didn’t start the car until she’d made it into the building and disappeared.

  “And where have you been?” Marty said as I shut the door of our room. I felt like I hadn’t seen him in weeks because I’d been so wrapped up in Ingrid. He didn’t seem to mind though.

  “Out with a girl,” I said with a smile.

  “Good for you, man. Good for you. Guess you have some game after all.” I shrugged and flopped down on my bed.

  “I think it’s all about tailoring your game to the girl. And this one requires more work, but it’s totally worth it.” He whistled and I threw a pillow at him.

  “Not like that. She’s not just a good body. Ugh, I’m not even talking about her like this with you.” Marty grinned at me and tossed the pillow back.

  “Okay, okay. Calm down, I get it. You’ve told me that she’s special. I guess I can see it. She’s definitely got that mysterious thing going on. And she’s hot…pretty. She’s pretty. And you like her. So that means I like her. And if you ever decide you want to step out and hang with the group, she’s more than welcome.” I knew that. Ingrid knew that. It didn’t mean it was going to happen.

  “We’ll see, we’ll see.”

  The rest of the night I spent catching up on homework I’d been neglecting in favor of spending time with Ingrid. My mom called and I thought about ignoring her, but that would just cause her to call back and leave tons of voicemails, so I answered.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hi, Coen. Listen, the reason I called was that I was reading this article on Lyme Disease and I just wanted to make sure that you were checking yourself for ticks when you get home every day.” I sat there for a second, wondering how the hell to answer.

  “Um, I think I’m covered, Mom. I haven’t seen a tick ever.” Marty looked over at me and I rolled my eyes as he turned the volume on ESPN lower.

  “But that’s the thing about them, the deer ticks are the smallest and sometimes you don’t even know you’ve been bitten. I just worry about you, Coen.” Part of me wanted to tell her that she should worry more that Ike was going to end up in prison, but her concern was coming from the right place.

  “Okay, Mom, I’ll be sure to check.” She seemed mollified by that and we got back to normal conversation: Todd might be getting promoted at work (he was an accountant at a software company), she was thinking about getting her hair colored and Ike was… Ike.

  “Do you want to talk to him? He’s right here.” I could hear a little scuffle and then Ike grunted hello.

  “She forced the phone on you, didn’t she?” I said.

  “Yeah. So, how’s college. Are you kicking ass and fucking all the girls?” Mom yelled at him for his language, but he just walked into another room.

  “Not really, Ike. There’s a lot of studying and laundry and sleeping that goes on. I’ve been to a few parties, but it’s not quite Animal House. I mean, I know some people are into that, but I’ve been pretty low key.” He scoffed and I really wished Mom hadn’t put him on the phone.

  “I hope you’ve at least gotten laid once,” he said and I just… I really wanted to hang up.

  “Someday Ike, you’re going to get your head out of your ass. It will probably be when you’re in a nursing home on your deathbed and I probably won’t be there to see it. Either give me back to Mom or hang up.”

  He laughed, which was unusual. Ike wasn’t one for smiling or laughing. Much like Ingrid. Maybe that was one of the reasons I was drawn to her. I knew what it was like to be around someone who didn’t show those kinds of emotions often.

  “You’re such a loser, Coen.” And then he hung up. Good riddance.

  “My brother is such a dick,” I said to Marty who turned the volume back up.

  “Yeah? Isn’t he like sixteen? What a surprise.” That was true, but Ike had his own special brand of assholery.

  “I guess,” I said, tossing my phone to the other end of my bed.

  “You’re lucky you’re the oldest. I’m the youngest and all I got was punched and hand me downs.”

  “Ninety percent of the time I wish that I was still an only child, so there you go.” We talked more about siblings and brothers, but part of my brain was still thinking about Ingrid. She was always on my mind, whether I wanted to think about her or not. Knowing it was probably clingy, I texted her a little ocean emoji. That didn’t seem too crazy.

  She responded back with fries, a bottle of ketchup and a tongue. I laughed and Marty gave me a look.

  “You’re texting with her, aren’t you?” I couldn’t deny it.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Too eager, my friend. But what the hell do I know?” He shrugged and put his hands behind his head. I had never actually seen Marty do homework, but he went to class, so I assumed he was getting it done sometime. Plus there were all those hours he worked out or hung with his other friends. I didn’t know how he got everything done in one day.

  “It’s fine,” I said, hoping that it was. She had answered me, so I saw that as a positive sign. She could have just ignored me.

  Before I turned out the lights and crawled into bed I sent her one more text. A shooting star.

  We texted stupid emojis back and forth the whole day on Tuesday. It was flirty and fun and I couldn’t help but laugh when I got them. It was fun trying to figure out what he was saying with a string of pictures. I thought he was going to call me, but maybe he was giving me space. He had the uncanny ability to know just what I needed when I needed it. Even if I didn’t.

  I had completely forgotten about his leather jacket, which was currently hanging on the back of my chair and every now and then, I’d get up and smell it. I was a terrible vegan, but I didn’t want to give it back to him.

  Things between us had been intense for two days and I needed a breather. Needed some time for myself and to reflect. Of course, I spent most of that time either doing homework, in class, or thinking about him. Okay, so I thought about him the entire time, even when I was doing other things. He’d crawled inside my head and set himself up in a corner of my mind and made a home there. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but there was nothing I could do about it. He was here and he wasn’t going anytime soon.

  There was so much noise and clatter in my head that I pulled out my notebook and wrote a few words that turned into poems that turned into pages scrawled with Coen. I thought about posting some of them, but hesitated. All my poems were personal, but these were different. I hadn’t written like this before and I wasn’t sure how well it would be received. And then part of me was so scared that somehow he would see it and figure out I had written them. The words that spilled from my pen were wild and bold and intense. They scared me. What I was feeling for Coen scared me.

  I bumped into Lacey on her way to the bathroom on Tuesday night and she asked me what the grin on my face was for and I just shook my head. She laughed and gave me a wink before skipping toward the showers.

  I couldn’t hide the smile that came out on Wednesday when I saw him. At least he couldn’t hear the change in the rhythm of my heart.

  He handed me my cup of tea and I looked down at it.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as we walked into class together.

  “Nothing. I just feel bad that you’re always the one bringing me tea. How about if we switch off? I’ll bring the beverages on Friday?” We sat down together and he handed me my little present. It was a little travel puzzle that would probably take a few minutes to put together, but I tucked it in my bag and thanked him.

  “You can also stop with the presents. I agreed to be your friend.” He gave me a look.

  “Hell no. I love giving you presents. I’m not going to stop.” His grin made bubbles explode inside my veins like in a glass of champagne.

  “Fine, but if you give me presents, then I’m going to give you stuff in return. This friendship should be egalitarian.” I had already thought of a few fun
things I could get him.

  “Then give me my coat back,” he said, his tone teasing.

  “No way. I’m keeping it.” He pretended to be shocked and then thoughtful.

  “Well, I guess I couldn’t have lost it to a prettier thief. It’s yours.” I’d never experienced the feeling of wanting to swoon, but right then I did.

  “I’m not a bad vegan if I have a leather jacket, right?” I said and the professor started class so I shut up.

  “No. You’re making up for the leather by saving other animals.” Well, I guess that made sense. I hoped it was okay. Maybe I’d do something to make it right.

  He tapped my shoulder a few minutes later and slid his notebook over to me. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth so I didn’t burst out laughing. He’d drawn a cow wearing sunglasses and a jacket just like his. There was a bubble coming from the cow’s mouth that said I still love you, Ingrid. I was dying. Could you die from the need to laugh? I settled for slumping over on my desk and probably looking like I was having some sort of breakdown. I could feel Coen shaking with his own silent laughter next to me and I wished I could slink out of the class and go out in the hallway to let my laughter out.

  “Shhh,” Coen hissed at me, but he was being just as disruptive as I was. A few people around us turn and glare, but it takes a while for me to get myself under control. Fortunately, there were only a few minutes left in class and as soon as we were out in the hallway, I smacked him on the arm.

  “That wasn’t very nice, Coen LaCour,” I said, but he just gave me the sweetest, most boyish smile and I wanted to so much to be mad at him, but I couldn’t. One smile could uncoil all my anger and irritation.

  “No, it wasn’t, but I have no regrets,” he said, holding his arm out for me to take. I hesitated for just a moment before I entwined my arm with his and he walked me to my next class.

  “Why don’t you hang out with anyone else?” he asked that night as we ate takeout vegan lo mein on my floor, fighting each other for the pea pods with our chopsticks.