Bend Me, Break Me

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “I don’t want you to go either,” she said, surprising both of us.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Oh,” she replied.

  I didn’t know what I was saying. I didn’t know what I was doing. Only that I didn’t want to stay alone in this room after he left. It was so quiet and so cold and I was so alone. I’d grown accustomed to being alone and then Coen had crashed his way into my life and I didn’t want that anymore.

  I didn’t want to be numb anymore. I wanted color and smiles and kisses and the sharp, sweet taste of life on my tongue. It was wrong and it was selfish, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted something like this. Wanted it with every part of me.

  I’d thought these parts of me had shut off like a switch and I’d been fine with it. Until him.

  “Okay, I think we’re going to have to talk about what me staying over means, so there’s no confusion,” he said slowly, putting his hands out as if he was trying to steady me.

  My mind was clear. I was decided. I brushed the fog from my mind and stared into the depths of green in his eyes.

  “I want you to spend the night with me. Sleep. Just sleep. It’s been so long since I slept, Coen. So long.” It was selfish, but I didn’t care. My body was weary and I needed him to soothe me.

  “Oh, Ingrid. I’d do anything for you. Anything. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it for you.” He stroked my cheek and I leaned into his hand.

  “Will you stay with me? Please?” He nodded and leaned forward to give me the briefest of kisses.

  “Of course I will.”

  I didn’t want him to leave, even to get clothes, and he didn’t seem to want to, so we agreed that we would both sleep in our clothes. I didn’t want him to be the only one that was uncomfortable, so I stifled his protests about me putting on pajamas.

  He didn’t know that most of my pajamas were thin, worn and didn’t cover much. I also slept naked sometimes, but I definitely wasn’t going to tell him that.

  He came with me to the bathroom so I could brush my teeth and wash my face. I held my toothbrush out to him. He made a face.

  “What? Your tongue has been in my mouth.” He snorted.

  “Good point, but I’m okay.” He put a glob of toothpaste on his finger and swabbed it all around his mouth, then called it good. I brushed out my hair and let him use my face wash.

  “Do I smell like peaches now?” he asked, leaning his cheek toward me. I leaned forward and sniffed before giving him a little peck.

  “Yeah, you do.”

  Dorm beds were long and thin, and probably not meant to be shared, but we found a way. Coen put his back to the wall and I faced him. Our noses were mere inches apart and I kept fighting the urge to laugh.

  “What?” he whispered.

  “Nothing,” I whispered back. It didn’t seem right to talk in a normal volume.

  “You’re smiling. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful, Ingrid.” I hadn’t counted my smiles today. I had no idea how many there were. And for the first time since everything had happened, I didn’t care. This was one day, just one day, when I wasn’t going to care. I’d count tomorrow.

  “I’m not tired,” I said.

  “Me neither,” he said. The room was quiet without the sound of the television, which I was so used to by now. But the pounding of my heart and the sound of Coen’s breathing were enough noise. Too much, actually.

  I moved my hand under my pillow and found my journal. I panicked for a moment and then shifted it so it was pushed further underneath. I didn’t think Coen was going to find it, but I should probably find another place for it if he was going to be here. I would just die if he saw anything written inside.

  It didn’t matter that I posted my poems on Instagram for strangers to see. I would never meet someone who would know that I was the writer. But if Coen knew… No, that was unacceptable.

  “This is weird. Being here with you like this.” I frowned.

  “Not in a bad way,” he said hastily, “I just mean I never thought it would happen.”

  “Me, neither.”

  I felt like a creep staring at him, so I closed my eyes and snuggled closer, folding my hands together under my chin. His lips brushed my forehead and then he pressed his face to mine.

  “Goodnight, Ingrid. Sleep well.”

  “You too, Coen,” I said.

  The next thing I knew, my eyes were opening and my vision was filled with green eyes and a chipped tooth and dark, wild hair.

  “Hey,” he said with a smile.

  “H-hey,” I said back, worried about my breath. We were still in the same position we fell asleep in, except for the fact that I’d thrown my outside leg over him, as if I was trying to climb him in my sleep.

  “If we don’t get up soon, we’re going to be late,” he said.

  “What?” I looked up and saw that soft morning light was spilling in through a crack in my curtains. I jolted upright and scrabbled for my phone. It was seven in the morning. I’d slept for eight hours straight.

  Somehow.

  “What’s wrong?” Coen didn’t understand what was going on in my head.

  “Nothing, I just wanted to know what time it was.” My heart was going a mile a minute and if I wasn’t careful, I was going to have a panic attack. I dashed from the room and down the hall to the bathroom where I locked myself in a stall and tried to slow everything down.

  Why was it freaking me out that I’d slept through the night? That should not be something that a person had a panic attack over. But other people weren’t me.

  “Ingrid?” I heard the door to the bathroom slowly open. Technically this was the girls’ room, but not one really paid attention to the signs so it didn’t matter if he came in.

  “I’m okay,” I said, my voice shivery and breathless. I definitely didn’t sound okay.

  “Are you sure? You just… you seemed a little freaked out. If you want me to go that’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t want to talk or something.” Sweet. He was pure sweetness and kindness.

  I didn’t deserve him.

  “Really, Coen, I’m okay. I’m just going to take a shower and then go to class.”

  I thought I heard him sigh.

  “Okay. I’ll see you later, maybe?” It wasn’t his fault. It really wasn’t. It was mine. Always mine.

  “Yeah, we’ll get dinner or something.” Ugh, I was going to regret those words later, but right now I just needed him to give me some space. Some room to breathe.

  “Okay, see you later.” The disappointment was clear in his voice, but he didn’t press.

  Oh, how I’d wanted this morning to be something other than what it turned out to be. As usual, I’d ruined it. I had quite the habit of doing that, especially with Coen. But instead of running after him and telling him that I wanted to walk to the cafeteria and get breakfast, or telling him that I had granola bars, I stayed in the bathroom and waited until I knew he’d for sure be gone from my room.

  I slunk back and breathed a sigh of relief when the room was empty when I opened the door. All evidence of him was gone. He’d even made the bed back up. I could still smell him, though, and his coat was slung over the back of my desk chair.

  Coen.

  He was everywhere.

  Deciding I needed to get going, I grabbed my things and headed for the shower. I’d thought about skipping class today, but I knew I would have regretted it later. I couldn’t let something so silly impact my education. I had to get my degree. If I did nothing else, I had to do that.

  The day dripped by like a sluggish faucet. I sent Coen a text message apologizing for my behavior in the morning, and he sent me back a smiley face and a thumbs up, so I assumed I was forgiven, or at least he was okay with it.

  My thoughts kept going back to the night. To waking up in his arms and what that felt like. My body was full of energy, as if I’d had five cups of tea instead of just one. Everything seemed easier now that I’d had
sleep.

  Like being sick. You didn’t know how bad it was until you got better.

  When I got back to my room after classes, I paced around for a while. I thought I was going to crawl out of my skin. This eight hours of sleep thing had made me hyper and I didn’t know what to do with my energy. Before I could think about it, I sent him a text.

  Wanna go for a walk?

  He texted back a few moments later.

  See you in five.

  I’d never seen her so energetic before. Guess the sleep had done her good. Or she’d had too much tea today. That was also a possibility.

  “Hey, so, sorry about this morning. I really am. I freaked out and kicked you out and I’m sorry. So, here,” she said, handing me a piece of notebook paper, folded in half.

  “I didn’t have time to go out and get a card, so I made you this.” The front of the homemade card had a sad face on it and the words I’M SORRY. On the inside were the words I’M AN ASS and her name. I snorted.

  “You’re not an ass, but thanks for the card all the same,” I said, carefully folding it and tucking it into my jacket pocket. I was wearing my second-favorite jacket since she still had my other one.

  “I think some people would beg to differ, but fine.” She really did look good today, not that she didn’t always, but there was a lightness about her that I hadn’t seen much of before.

  “So, where are we off to?” I asked. The campus had a few nature trails here and there, but I’d never felt the urge to walk on them.

  She just smiled at me and held out her hand.

  “Come on.”

  Even though they were so close to campus, the nature trails felt like another world. The forestry department was big on conservation, so many of the trees were ancient.

  “I’ve always wanted to come here, but I didn’t want to come alone,” she said. I was holding her hand, and every now and then her grip would tighten and the rings on her fingers would dig into mine.

  I loved every minute of it.

  “Why were you scared to come alone?” I asked. She ducked her head.

  “You’re going to laugh at me.” I tugged on her hand to make her look up.

  “Promise I won’t,” I said, using my other hand to make an X on my chest.

  She looked down and mumbled something.

  “What was that?” I asked, putting my hand to my ear.

  “I was scared of bears, okay?” Oh, it was so hard not to laugh. I had to clamp my mouth shut and try to breathe through my nose.

  “You’re laughing at me,” she said, poking me in the chest with our joined hands.

  “No, I’m not,” I choked out.

  “Yes, you are. Fine, I know it’s stupid. But most fears and phobias are irrational. What are you afraid of?” I wasn’t going to tell her that. The one thing I was afraid of, she could never know.

  “Snakes,” I said quickly. “But they’re poisonous where I come from, so that fear is perfectly rational.”

  “Whatever,” she said, blushing a little. Fuck, I loved it when she blushed.

  “Well, if there are any bears, I will protect you,” I said, stopping us so I could kiss her on the forehead.

  “I bet you would,” she said without a hint of mocking.

  We didn’t see any bears on our walk, but something else happened. Ingrid started talking. About high school and all sorts of random things. I kept my mouth shut, worried that if I said anything, she’d realize what she was doing and stop.

  “I wasn’t super into school, but I liked to read, so I always figured I’d do something with English; but then I also don’t want to be unemployed, so I have no idea what I’m going to do,” she said. I wished I was recording her, or writing this down so I could remember everything later. My brain was overflowing with the information she was dropping on me.

  “What about you? Do you have a major? I feel like I know so much about you, but not much at all.” I felt the same about her.

  We reached a fork in the path and I let her pick which direction we would head in. She chose the left. The trails weren’t that long, so I didn’t worry about getting lost. Besides, if we walked long enough, we’d eventually end up back on campus.

  “Uh, no. I’m still undecided. My mom wants me to do something that will result in a definite job after graduation, but she can’t seem to figure out what that means and I have no idea what I want. I mean, isn’t that what college is for? To try a bunch of things and figure out which one works for you?” She nodded.

  “That’s what I always thought, but as soon as you enter high school, people are up your butt about it. Some people know, but I think most of us don’t have any idea. Or maybe we do, but then we find that’s not what we want after all. You know?”

  The words between us flowed so easily, I realized that she’d once been outgoing and verbal, but circumstances had changed that for her. It made me wish for the thousandth time that I could reverse time for her and change everything.

  “Who the hell knows? We’re just freshmen. We’ve got time, I guess,” she said and then a cloud crossed her expression. I’d been waiting for it all along. We’d been walking at least an hour, so that was something.

  “Maybe you’ll be a vegan chef?” I suggested. It took her a little while to answer and her hand loosened in mine and almost dropped.

  “Maybe,” she said. Deciding that distraction was my best mode of bringing her back, I let go of her hand and then stood in front of her, blocking her path.

  “What the hell, Coen?” she said.

  “Hop on,” said, looking at her over my shoulder and crouching down a little. “Piggyback.”

  For a moment, she hesitated and then rolled her eyes. But then she jumped and I curled my hands around her legs and hoisted her up. Her arms wound around my neck and she rested her chin on my shoulder, her breath in my ear.

  “What are you doing?” she asked and I started walking.

  “I don’t know. It just seemed like the right thing to do.” She laughed and I knew I’d made the right call.

  “You’re not going to take me all the way back like this, are you? You’ll probably break your back.” Now I was the one to scoff. She didn’t weigh much, and definitely not enough to cause damage to my back.

  “I’ll let you know before that happens and you can get down,” I said.

  “Okay.”

  I turned around and started heading back the way we’d come. I’d only walked a few steps when suddenly a deer stepped out of the woods and into the path.

  “Oh my God,” Ingrid breathed in my ear and I stopped walking. The deer stopped as well, about thirty feet away from us. I didn’t know much about deer, but I was almost positive it was female. No antlers. Or horns. Whatever they called them. The deer flicked its ears back and forth and didn’t seem too upset by our presence.

  “It’s like Bambi,” Ingrid said as the deer leaned down and nibbled at some grass on the path.

  “Let’s hope this deer’s mom doesn’t get shot,” I said and Ingrid laughed a little.

  “Seriously.”

  The deer finally meandered away from us and I started walking again.

  “I think the deer get so used to people being around that they don’t care anymore,” Ingrid said. “I mean, I’m sure there’s lots to eat around campus in the dumpsters and so forth. The squirrels are all too fat to run.” That made me laugh because it was true. I’d seen a squirrel try to climb a tree once and fail so miserably I wished I’d caught it on video.

  Ingrid started whistling as we walked back and I was so shocked, I nearly dropped her.

  “You’re a really good whistler,” I said as she picked out a tune I didn’t know.

  “Thanks,” she said, stopping. “It’s not super impressive, but if I ever need a hidden talent for something, I’m good.” She had a point. I didn’t have any hidden talents. She was just full of surprises.

  “Yeah, you are.”

  I didn’t make it all the way back to campus with her o
n my back, but I made a good effort. She finally pinched my ear and made me let her down.

  “I can walk, Coen,” she said.

  “Well, I know that,” I said. “Just thought it would be more fun that way.”

  She took my hand again.

  “It was.”

  She sighed.

  “Was that a happy sigh?” I hoped it was.

  “I think so?” She didn’t sound sure and I left it alone.

  “I don’t remember what it’s like to be happy,” she said, so quietly I didn’t think she meant me to hear it. But I did.

  “I think you remember better than you think you do. I think you stop yourself from being happy. You feel it and then slam the door in its face.” I probably shouldn’t have said that, because she stopped walking and dropped my hand.

  “You don’t know anything about me, Coen. Just because we’ve kissed a few times and hung out, you think you can analyze me and tell me about my life? Fuck you.” She started to march off, but I was hot on her heels. I grabbed the back of her jacket to make her stop. She sputtered and spun around to face me, her eyes full of rage and sadness.

  “I’m only telling you what I see. That’s it. You can take it or leave it. Why does what I say affect you so much?” I was pushing it. Definitely pushing it.

  She gaped at me. I prepared myself for her to slap me or spit in my face, but she surprised me again.

  She cried. It started as a gasp of sound and then she crumpled into sobs that were unlike anything I’d ever heard before. God, it was scary, hearing something like that. I reached out and pulled her into my arms where she shook. I tried to do what I could which amounted to me rubbing her back and just holding on for dear life.

  Her fingers dug into my chest and I just hoped that I was doing the right thing and she was getting some sort of comfort because I had no idea what the fuck I was supposed to be doing.

  She started gasping and I was worried she was going to hyperventilate and pass out. Then she sniffed and I could feel her trying to slow her breathing down, but her lungs kept jerking and spasming. There was a hurricane inside her trying rip its way out. And there I was, holding an umbrella that was pretty much useless.