Falling to Pieces

by Jamie Canosa

  “I will.” I’d been waiting for this opportunity for years and eagerly jumped all over it. “I’ll go out tomorrow.”

  The thing about jumping was I usually landed on my face. “You will not!”

  “What? But you said—”

  “You start bringing in pennies and mess up my unemployment . . . You really think you can provide better for this family,” she snarled the word as though it offended her, “with some part-time, snot-nosed, after-school job flipping burgers?”

  If I could control how the money I made was spent? Without a doubt. I didn’t tell her that. I did what I did best, shut my mouth and wished I’d never opened it in the first place.

  “That’s what I thought.” She threw open the fridge again and grabbed a cold one. “What’s wrong with you today, anyway?”

  At least it was an acknowledgement that I wasn’t usually this much of a bitch. “Nothing.”

  “Well, obviously something.” Throwing open a drawer, she rummaged around inside.

  I sat at the table, watching her. She actually wanted to know? I couldn’t remember the last time my mother had taken an interest in my life. I knew it was a mistake. I knew I was setting myself up for disappointment. But I was hurting and, dammit, I needed her.

  “You remember Doug?”

  “Who?”

  “The guy I’ve been dating for the past two years.” She gave a non-committal shrug that I knew meant she had no clue I’d been dating anyone. “We broke up.”

  “This is all over a guy?” She looked appalled by the idea.

  “Not exactly.” God, this was embarrassing. Who told their mother this stuff? But judging by how glassy her eyes were, she wouldn’t remember any of it, anyway. “He took these pictures without me knowing. They were . . . personal. When I broke up with him, he spread them around school for everyone to see. It was humiliating.”

  “Personal pictures?” She slammed the drawer shut, losing her balance slightly as she spun to face me. “You starring in porn now?”

  If my eyes had gotten any wider, I’m fairly certain they would have rolled right out of my head. “I didn’t know—”

  “Are you sleeping with him?”

  “No! I never—”

  “You had better be using protection. I swear if you get pregnant—”

  “Mom! I didn’t sleep with him!”

  “Sure you didn’t. I don’t give a crap what you do, Jade, but I am telling you right now, if you get pregnant you will be out on your ass so fast it’ll make your head spin. I served my time with you. I am not raising another unwanted baby.”

  I sat there, watching her disappear down the hall into her bedroom. How could she say that? How could she say that and just leave? How could I have been stupid enough to expect anything different?

  I knew the truth. I’d always known it. She’d never made any secret of the fact that I was the biggest mistake of her life. But to hear it out loud, to have it thrown in my face like that, hurt worse than I could have imagined. It felt like there was a knife sticking in my heart.

  Dragging myself up from the table, I threw open the fridge looking for any kind of distraction I could find. Almost every shelf was lined with beer. Bottles instead of cans this time. A rare treat. Pulling one from the shelf, I studied the cold, dark glass in my hand. It worked for her. Why not me? It seemed only fair. She caused the pain. She should erase it. I found the bottle opener in the drawer under the microwave and cracked it open.

  The first sip was nasty. The second and third went down a little easier.

  “Are you . . . drinking?” Mom stood in the kitchen doorway with a look on her face that I couldn’t decipher.

  “Yes. Yes, I am.” I twirled the bottle in my fingers, practically daring her to say something about it.

  Stumbling past me, she grabbed the opener from where I’d tossed it on the counter top and popped hers open, tipping it at me in cheers. “Good for you.”

  I stared at the spot where she’d stood long after she was gone. I think I may have been in shock. That was possibly the most encouraging thing she’d ever said to me. And it was about her underage daughter consuming alcohol. Way to go, Mom.

  It filled me with the urge to dump the bottle down the drain. I dumped it down my throat, instead. And then another. By the third, it stopped tasting like crap and I cracked open another.

  The floor seemed to shift like the kind in a fun house as I made slow progress toward my bedroom. The walls shot out to meet me, causing me to bounce off of them as I went. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so damn annoying. My bedroom door seemed to be miles and miles away. Too far to walk. I considered calling it quits and camping out in the hall for the night. I had no idea what time it was, but it must have been late and I was wiped. I’d had a long time to think, sitting at the kitchen table, just me and Bud. My bud, Bud. That was funny. I snickered as I bumped into yet another wall. Dammit, where had that one come from?

  My mother didn’t want me, but that was okay. Even understandable. I’d ruined her life, after all. Sent my father away and instead she got stuck with me. Not exactly what I’d call a fair trade. But if I had a baby, it would be different. I would be different. I didn’t want to be anything like her. And I needed to make sure somebody knew that. Somebody who may actually remember in the morning, so they could remind me.

  I found my cell lying on the middle of my bed. It took forever to turn on. The screen was glowing with several unread messages from Kiernan when it finally did, and I took it as a sign. Why not? He’d put his number in there for a reason, right? And he’d never let me forget. I could count on him.

  Dialing Kiernan’s number was made more complicated by my apparent lack of hand-eye coordination, but eventually it started ringing.

  “Hello?” His voice was warm and deep.

  “Hello.”

  “Jade? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

  “I need . . . to tell . . . you something.” My lips seemed to be moving slower than my brain. Flopping back on my bed, I smacked my head off the wall and cursed under my breath. That hurt.

  “Are you . . . drunk?”

  “Maaaaybe.” I rubbed the back of my skull and smiled. Teasing him was fun.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  Oh, right. I called for a reason. “If I was pregnant, my baby wouldn’t be unwanted.”

  “Wait. Slow down. You’re pregnant?”

  “No! Why does everyone think I’m a slut?”

  “I don’t. Jade, I’d never think that. I’m just trying to keep up here. Please tell me what’s going on.”

  “I said if. If I had a baby, I would want it. Love it.” Why was that so hard to understand?

  “Of course you would. I don’t understand where this is coming from, though.” He sounded genuinely confused and it was giving me a headache. Or maybe that was the wall. Or the alcohol? Trying to figure it out was only making it worse.

  Instead, I focused on the point of the conversation. There was a point. “Because that’s what mothers are supposed to do.”

  “Did something happen with your mom?” Look at him go, my own personal Sherlock.

  “She . . .” I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t say it out loud. Not to him. I couldn’t let him know that not even my own mother wanted me.

  “Jade, please. What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Now he sounded sad. And that made me sad. I just wanted to make him happy again. Make all of this go away. But the pressure clogging my throat made it so difficult.

  “She said . . .” I doubt he understood anything that came out of my mouth after that. I didn’t even understand it as I dissolved into stupid, exhausted tears.

  “Don’t cry. It’s alright. I’m on my way.”

  The phone went dead before my sluggish brain had a chance to process his words. He was on his way? Where? Here? God, I was such an idiot. Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut? My mother was right. I was unwanted. I didn’t even want myself.

  I wanted to crawl un
derneath the blankets and hide, but the need to pee overwhelmed even my own self-loathing. Thank God the bathroom was right across the hall. It only took five minutes to reach it. Afterward, I sat there longer than strictly necessary, contemplating life—or life as seen through beer goggles, anyway. I thought they were supposed to make things look better, but not even intoxication improved my life. There had to be something. Something that could make the pain go away.

  After washing my hands, I rooted through the cabinet for anything I could find. The small tan bottle of prescription pain pills the doctors had given my mother after her accident was sitting on the bottom shelf. They were probably expired, but stronger than the normal stuff, so that should even out, right? And they existed to take away pain. Perfect. Clutching the bottle in my hand, I began the arduous journey back to my room.

  Collapsing on my bed, I popped the lid and looked inside. About half a bottle left. There was a long moment where I briefly considered what would happen if I just swallowed them all. That should do the trick. And, really, who would miss me? Who could miss me if nobody wanted me? I’d be doing the world a favor. It was only a moment. A foolish moment. But it was the longest moment of my life as the harsh truth settled into my heart.

  A knock at the door drew me from my grim thoughts. I made no attempt to move. Maybe if I ignored him, he’d go away. No such luck. There was another knock followed by the sound of the doorknob turning. I really should start locking that thing.

  “Jade?” A soft tap on my bedroom door was the only warning I got before it swung slowly inward.

  Holy Moses, Kiernan was standing in my bedroom in nothing more than low hanging sweats and sneakers, sans socks. That amazing abdomen was completely bare and just as drool worthy as it had felt beneath my hands. But it was his bare ankles that I couldn’t stop staring at. Somehow, they seemed more intimate. Or maybe I was just desperately avoiding looking at his face.

  “What are you doing?” I still couldn’t bring myself to look at him, but I could hear the genuine concern in his voice.

  “I’m sitting.”

  “What’s in your hand, Jade?”

  “A bottle of beer, Kiernan.” I knew what he meant, but I couldn’t bear to have this conversation with him. I hated that he was seeing me like this. Hated myself for causing all of this in the first place. For bringing him here.

  “Your other hand, Jade.”

  “My mother’s pain pills.”

  Kiernan inched his way closer, licking his lips anxiously. I don’t know what he had to be anxious about. It’s not like I was in any state to hurt him. Not that I could hurt him in any state.

  “What are you doing with them?”

  “I hurt.” The answer was simple enough, but it seemed to confuse him further.

  “Where do you hurt?”

  “My heart.” Alcohol, the great lip-loosener. I wanted to smack myself, but that would have required too much coordination. And effort. “My heart hurts, Kiernan.”

  I looked up at him for the first time and the sadness in his eyes undid me.

  “Jade? Listen to me, okay? This is important.” He knelt in front of me, closing his hand around mine holding the pill bottle. “Did you take any of these?”

  His hand was so warm. Soothing against mine. I wondered what it would feel like to touch his chest.

  “Jade? Answer me! Did you take any?”

  “No.”

  Kiernan released a breath so deep his entire body seemed to deflate before my eyes.

  “Good.” Prying the bottle from my grasp, he set it aside, sitting back on his heels and taking my hand in both of his. “Now, what happened?”

  “I drank some of my mother’s beer.”

  “I can see that.” Taking the beer bottle from my hand, he set it beside the pills. “Why?”

  “I was upset.” That sounded lame even to my alcohol fueled brain cells.

  “About Doug?”

  “No. Yes . . . At first. But then I talked to my mom about it.” I stared at my comforter, trying to remember why I’d done that.

  “What did she say?”

  “If I was pregnant, she’d kick me out. She said . . .” I swallowed back the fresh pain the mere memory of her words brought on. They were just words for chrissakes, they shouldn’t hurt so much. It was pathetic to keep crying over the same old truth I’d known all my life. “She said she already raised one unwanted baby.”

  Kiernan’s shoulders sank. “She was drunk. She didn’t mean—”

  “She’s always drunk!”

  “She has a problem, Jade.”

  “Yeah. Me!”

  “No. This is about her, not you.”

  Sure. He could keep telling himself that for as long as he liked. I knew better.

  “Will you hold me?” I didn’t know where the words came from, but the sudden desire to be in his arms was so strong, I had to physically hold back from throwing myself into them. “Just for a minute, Kiernan? Please? I need to pretend somebody cares. Just for a minute.”

  He looked surprised by my request, but his face softened as he took me in his arms. “Of course I will. But there’s no pretending here, Jade. I do care about you.” His words washed in my ear and over my heart, soothing my soul. “Don’t ever forget that. I care.”

  I closed my eyes against the warmth of his lips pressed to my temple and burrowed deeper into his chest. Kiernan held me tight, rubbing my back lightly and whispering reassurances into my hair for I don’t know how long.

  Eleven

  Besides an IQ zapper and truth serum, alcohol also made an impressive sedative. When I woke again it was because my alarm was blaring on the table beside my head and Kiernan was nowhere to be found.

  First things first, that monstrosity needed to die. Then, I needed to physically remove my head, which was clearly the only way to make it feel any better. What the hell was I thinking? Seriously. Alcohol? And . . . Kiernan?

  Kiernan was here. In my apartment. In my bedroom. Half-naked? There’s a memory I wished I could recall a little more clearly.

  Or maybe not. What was he doing here? And, good God, what the hell did I say to him? I wasn’t a big believer in ignorance is bliss, but there was a good chance this was one of the rare occasions when it was actually true. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from scanning the room for clues.

  The half empty beer bottle on my nightstand triggered my gag reflex. I swear I could smell it, and it did cruel and unusual things to my stomach. But it was what sat next to it that made me truly ill. My mother’s pill bottle. And I knew, without doubt, that ignorance was bliss.

  Bits and pieces of the night started fitting into place. The drinking, the phone call, the pills. Kiernan thinking . . . For the love of all things good and sane in the world. Because he didn’t already think I was a few fries short of a Happy Meal. No wonder he’d jumped off the crazy train and run for the hills the minute I’d shut my eyes.

  Groaning, I buried my head under my pillow and gave serious consideration to the idea of never coming out again. If it weren’t for irritating necessities like food and water—and the urgent need to brush my teeth—I might have given it a shot. Instead, I rolled out of bed and dragged myself across the hall to the bathroom.

  The glimpse I caught of my reflection as I loaded up the toothbrush with off-white paste didn’t do my obliterated pride any favors. I looked about as awful as I felt. Red, puffy eyes ringed by dark circles, blotchy skin, and hair that looked like a raccoon had taken up residence. It was going to be a long morning.

  ***

  “Hey!” I turned to find Stephen Webber, linebacker for the Craterville Cardinals, crowding my personal space. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “What?” I took a step back, choking on the panic when my back came up against the cold metal of my locker. This was it. This was exactly the kind of thing I’d been trying to avoid by being with Doug in the first place, but now he was gone. And so was Kiernan. I was completely on my own. And I had no one to blam
e for that but myself.

  “You cost us our captain. How are we supposed to stand a chance this season without Doug?”

  “I . . . um . . . uh . . .” Sounded like a moron.

  “What the hell was he thinking, getting into a fight over you?” He gritted it out as though it were a more ridiculous notion than flying pigs. But, if I really thought about it, I guess I felt the same way. “He didn’t even like you.”

  It wasn’t as though I didn’t already know that, but it still hurt to hear. Deep down, I had always harbored the tragic belief that Doug kept me around because some part of him actually wanted me there. How delusional could a girl be?

  “Whatever. You’re not worth risking my athletic career over.” With that parting shot, he left me staring dazedly at the empty space he’d been occupying.

  What was wrong with me? I must have been a horrible person in a past life, because this one sure felt like some kind of karmic payback. The harder I tried to stay out of the way and under the radar, the more attention I drew to myself. And all the wrong kinds. What I wanted was to make people happy, make them like me, maybe even make a friend along the way, but all I ever managed to do was piss everyone off and leave disaster in my wake.

  “Hey, Jade. How’s it going?” I was contemplating if it was within the realm of physics for me to crawl inside my locker and disappear when Tracy something-or-other, a junior from my gym class, someone I’d never spoken to, trotted up beside me and started chatting like we were BFFs.

  “Fine?” I hadn’t meant for it to come out sounding like a question, but I was more than a little confused.

  “Oh, good. I mean I’m glad. With everything that’s been going on. Is it true you dumped Doug Summers? Why would you do that? Isn’t he like . . . the all-American boy?”

  Entirely out of your league.

  “Was it for Kiernan Parks? Are you two together now? That would be fantastic.”