Hearts, Strings, and Other Breakable Things

by Jacqueline Firkins

  As Edie shoved an errant sprout into place, Maria grabbed the sandwich, marched over to a nearby garbage can, and pitched it, sneering as if deeply put out by both the sulking and the sprouts. She brushed off her hands as she returned to the stoop, planting herself at the base and tapping a toe until she had Edie’s full attention.

  “Just so you know, Claire and Sebastian have been having issues for weeks. I mean, when they first met they were totally into each other. She loved that he wasn’t like the macho assholes she was used to dating. He was blown away that this fun, popular girl liked him instead of fawning on Tom like anyone else he’d been into. They’re obviously still hot for each other, but let’s face it, she’s bored and he’s exhausted. Now I think he’s mostly trying to prove something.”

  “To Claire?”

  “To himself.” Maria rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a sleek gold lipstick tube. “I mean, seriously, his brother hasn’t committed to a girl for more than, like, the time it takes to burn microwave popcorn. And his mom started dating less than a year after his dad died. He was really pissed about all that.”

  While Maria applied a fresh coat of lipstick, Edie recalled the hours spent sitting in trees with Sebastian when they were kids, discussing his great confusion about how everyone and everything around him seemed so replaceable. He wasn’t just angry. He was afraid he’d be next.

  “You think he needs to prove he can make a relationship last?” Edie asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Even if it’s the wrong relationship?”

  “So tell him what the right one is.” Maria nudged Edie with a toe.

  Despite a prickle of irritation, Edie felt a smile tug at her lips. She might never fully escape Maria’s patronizing prodding, but it felt less annoying now. Maria didn’t have to spend her lunch break detailing Sebastian’s relationship history and coaching her cousin back from despair. She could be inside making snarky remarks with her friends. She’d never turned down the opportunity before, especially where her poor relation was concerned. She was only outside with Edie for one reason: because she cared.

  “I’ll deal with the rumors.” Maria pocketed her lipstick. “Except for the Easter Bunny one. I kinda love thinking you KO’d a creepy perv in a fur onesie. Some of those guys deserve a punch in the nose.”

  Edie laughed as she tossed the rest of her lunch and prepared to head inside.

  “Why are you helping me?” she asked. “Claire’s your friend.”

  “Yeah.” Maria scoffed. “But you are family.”

  With a swell of something Edie could only call love, she threw her arms around Maria and gave her the biggest, most painfully earnest hug she could manage. Edie might’ve lost a place at a table that week, but in exchange, she’d gained a family. As spoils of war went, she couldn’t ask for more.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  * * *

  Maria proved true to her word. Without directly confronting Claire and escalating matters further, she deftly shut down the gossip mill and ushered her cousin back into the fold. Edie didn’t understand how Maria had accomplished everything, especially within a matter of hours, but she was profoundly grateful. She promised herself that if she was ever in a position to do something nice for Maria, she wouldn’t hesitate, no matter the circumstances.

  When Friday’s classes finally slogged their way to an end, Claire slipped away to a dance lesson, Catie and Katie headed to lacrosse practice, and Edie walked out the front doors of Saint Penitent’s with Maria, Taylor, and Phoebe. Phoebe was reminding everyone to vote for prom queen when Julia burst through the doors and begged Maria for a ride. They’d barely begun to squabble when Edie stopped short.

  Thirty yards away, at the base of the school steps, a fancy white sports car was parked in the drive that circled the flagpole. The car looked like it belonged in a sci-fi movie. It was long, low, and spotlessly shiny, with headlights like narrowed eyes. Leaning against the car was an impossibly gorgeous demon/vampire wearing a sharp black suit and tie. Even more disconcerting, he was holding a piece of paper with MISS EDIE PRICE written on it.

  “Holy shit.” Taylor gripped Edie’s shoulder as the chatter dropped off.

  “Isn’t that Claire’s brother?” Phoebe asked.

  “Yep.” Edie glanced at her cousins, worried they were about to throttle her.

  Julia slumped against the wall and pouted in silence while Maria pulled out a compact and finessed her mascara, a gesture that would’ve proven a better ruse at masking her curiosity if her mirror wasn’t facing directly at Henry.

  “Hot date?” Taylor asked.

  “Just a friend,” Edie said.

  “That doesn’t look like friend material.” Phoebe canted an eyebrow.

  “Friend with benefits, maybe.” Taylor fanned her face.

  Edie squirmed, uncertain what she’d gotten herself into. She was pretty sure she and Henry were just friends, but they hadn’t discussed faking a breakup yet. They hadn’t actually discussed anything about what happened last weekend. Since Edie’d been ousted from the social circle all week, she wasn’t even sure what Claire might’ve mentioned to the other girls. Little to nothing, probably, since Claire would consider Edie beneath Henry’s notice for anything but a few heated minutes in a bathroom.

  While Edie stewed, Maria extended her lashes with an almost surgical focus.

  “I can’t believe you got him to pull a rom-com for you,” she chided.

  “I didn’t ‘get him’ to do anything,” Edie argued.

  “Whatever. I don’t need to see the invoice. Go have fun with your new ‘friend,’ Edie, unless you’re waiting for him to show up with a boombox or on a lawnmower.” With an exaggerated eyeroll for Taylor and Phoebe’s benefit, Maria returned her attention to her eyelashes, which were proving remarkably difficult to perfect unless her mirror was at just the right angle.

  Edie decided to embrace Maria’s pretense of indifference, even if she was just putting up a good front for her friends. Julia was another matter. Edie glanced her way, silently asking questions she was afraid to voice aloud.

  Julia shrugged, her whole body drooping.

  “If I were you, I’d be in that car by now.”

  “If you were her, you’d be in his lap by now,” Maria said.

  Julia spun on Maria, her bony fists clenched at her sides.

  “At least I didn’t stick my hands down his pants.”

  “You wouldn’t know what you were looking for if you did.”

  “Did you really?” Taylor asked.

  “Maybe.” Maria looked up from her mirror. “I mean, I’m totally committed to Rupert now, but I figured I should know what I was turning down.”

  “And?” Phoebe prompted.

  Maria smiled appreciatively, her catlike green eyes narrowing.

  “Let’s just say if Edie enrolls in extended benefits, she’ll have a very good time.”

  Everyone laughed while Edie did her best to hide both her embarrassment and her judgment. Her best wasn’t very good. She kept picturing poor Rupert slouched on his patio while his joy did a nosedive into a big black pool of forgotten. Meanwhile, here was Henry, utterly unscathed. He was the epitome of confidence, leaning on his gleaming car as his lips, his hands, his everything reminded Edie of six and a quarter minutes she wouldn’t mind repeating, minus the Dead Bunny Paws. It didn’t seem right. It didn’t seem fair. So why did she want to get in that car so badly? And not get out again until every last window was thoroughly steamed over?

  “Go on,” Julia said.

  “You sure it’s not weird?” Edie asked.

  “Oh, it’s weird. Just don’t tell me any details.”

  Edie finally conceded and headed down the school steps, keenly aware that at least four pairs of eyes were trained on her back. She stopped a few feet away from Henry and folded her arms, trying to manifest control despite how swiftly she was distracted by his mischievous smile and his woodsy scent.

  “What
are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I thought we were going to hang out.”

  “I meant later.”

  “Patience isn’t my greatest virtue.”

  “Neither is subtlety.”

  Henry tossed his sign into the back seat. Then he walked around to the other side of the car and opened the passenger door.

  “At least let me give you a ride home,” he offered.

  “No games? No bargaining? No wicked little schemes?”

  “Just a ride home.” He waited there, posed like a chauffeur, until Edie overcame her last iota of resistance and climbed in.

  “What’s with the suit?” she asked as they settled into the deep bucket seats.

  “I was helping my mom at her office today.” Henry cinched his tie in the rearview mirror. “I also thought it made me look trust­worthy.”

  “Not with those eyes.”

  He bent lower to assess his reflection.

  “What’s wrong with these eyes?”

  “I know where they’ve been.”

  “They’ve reformed.”

  “Doubtful.” As Edie swung her messenger bag onto her lap, it banged the dashboard and popped open the glove compartment. Inside was a stack of papers, a tin of mints, a pack of cards, and about a dozen condoms. “Good god.” She gaped openly. “How much sex do you have in this car?”

  Henry leaned back and lazily rolled his head toward her, his black hair cow-licking over the corners of his forehead, his dark eyes dancing.

  “You really want to know?” he asked.

  “No. Sorry.” Edie slammed the compartment shut. “Forget I asked.”

  Henry started the ignition while Edie pretended seatbelts and airbags were the only forms of protection at hand. As he put the car in gear, he gave her a quick appraisal.

  “Love the uniform,” he said.

  Edie grimaced, tugging her skirt to cover a bit more leg.

  “One more comment like that and I’m exiting the car, even if it’s in motion.”

  “Fair enough.” He flashed her a grin, his white teeth glowing brightly against lips that had no right to look so kissable. “Don’t forget I’m new at this whole friendship idea. Give me some time to figure it out.”

  “You have fifteen minutes. Let’s see if you can make it to the Vernons’ without another revolting line.”

  “Only fifteen minutes?”

  “You do remember where I live?”

  “Sure, but the route’s a little longer if we go my way.”

  * * *

  Two hours after leaving Saint Penitent’s, Henry pulled up in front of the Vernons’ house. He put the car in park and rested his forearms on the steering wheel. He watched Edie gather her belongings, which now included two additional items: an antique table runner Edie’d purchased for herself and an old hardback copy of Twelfth Night Henry had purchased for her. Edie knew the gift was a calculated maneuver, but she was impressed that he remembered their first conversation, back when she’d chided him for quoting “music is the food of love.” Henry noticed things. Edie liked that about him. She also liked that she didn’t have to fight for his attention, wonder what he was thinking, or censor what she said around him.

  “Well?” he prompted as his fingers drummed the steering wheel.

  Edie tensed. Was he asking if he could kiss her? Did he think this was a date? She’d only asked him to hang out. Without Claire and Sebastian. Didn’t she? Or did she inadvertently imply something else?

  “Well what?” she asked.

  “When can I see you again?”

  With a strange mix of relief and disappointment about the kissing issue, Edie thought through her schedule. Now that she had a job, she didn’t have much free time. She planned to fill most of it with homework, fruitless essay generation, and a few online guitar lessons she’d set up to bring in some extra money.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll text you?”

  Henry narrowed his eyes.

  “Are you playing hard to get?”

  “I’m playing hard to pay for college.”

  “Ah.” He nodded knowingly, though as a “man of leisure” he probably never had to worry about money. “Can I help by buying you dinner this weekend?”

  “That sounds a lot like a date.”

  “Does it? Damn. Guess I really am terrible at subtlety.”

  Edie laughed and promised she’d find another time for them to hang out next week, just so he could get a little more practice being friends with a girl. In turn, he promised to pay close attention to any instruction she was willing to impart.

  While he drove away, she added a post to her lexicon.

  Friendship

  noun

  A mutually affectionate relationship, exclusive of family or sexual relations.

  The association you’re trying to form with a guy who’s way more interested in sexual relations than a bond of mutual affection. Or is that you?

  A word you keep trying to apply to other people even though you still associate it most with the person you hope will eventually read this and find a way to forgive you.

  Edie stared at the screen, praying for a response. After five weeks in Mansfield, she still hadn’t received a single kind word from Shonda, despite uncountable texts, emails, phone messages, and lexicon posts. Edie might’ve claimed to Sebastian that she liked broken things, but friendships were best kept whole. Once damaged, they were far too hard to mend.

  She was putting away her phone when the front door swung open. Maria stood inside the foyer, her arms folded, her toe tapping.

  “Have a nice time?” she asked with faux civility.

  “Yep.” Edie started to edge her way into the house, hoping to avoid Maria’s usual round of Twenty Questions I Won’t Quite Ask About Henry. She was halted by a dull thunk and a metallic rattle from the Summerses’ driveway. She craned her neck toward the noise but she couldn’t see anything past the corner of the Vernons’ house.

  “He’s been out there for, like, ever,” Maria said. “I thought he was shooting hoops, but it looks more like he’s trying to torpedo a hole through his parents’ garage.”

  Edie and Maria crept over to the edge of the portico where they had a full view of the Summerses’ driveway. Sebastian was backing away from his garage while dribbling a basketball. He was barefoot, shirtless, and drenched in sweat. Edie felt her skin flush as her eyes lingered on his shifting back muscles, reminding her of the Rodin sculpture that’d inspired their fumbling kiss all those years ago.

  “Hot, huh?” Maria whispered. “I mean, he’s a total nerd, so don’t get him talking too long or anything, but I see why you want to play naked Twister with him.”

  Edie’s blush deepened. She hadn’t previously considered naked Twister, but the idea had its appeal.

  Sebastian hauled back and flung the ball, full force, not into the hoop that hung just below the peaked roof, but straight at the garage door, where several gray smudges marred the off-white panels. As the girls crept backwards, he collected the ball and hurled it at the door again, grunting with the effort. Edie was stunned. She’d never seen Sebastian get angry before. He’d always been so kind and soft-spoken, far more likely to escape into a book or a wardrobe than to lash out physically.

  “Did he and Claire have another fight?” Edie asked.

  “How should I know?” Maria swatted away a fly, glaring as though it’d flown past deliberately to annoy her. “Why don’t you ask her brother now that you two are such good ‘friends’?” She enunciated the final word, punctuating her question like a challenge.

  Sebastian rattled the drainpipe with an ill-aimed throw, startling both girls and saving Edie from answering Maria’s question directly.

  “They must’ve practically come to blows,” she said. “Maybe you were right about their relationship.”

  “Maybe.” Maria let out one of her trademark scoffs. “Then again, the harder the fighting, the hotter the makeup sex.”

  Edie groaned as
she wilted against the corner of the house.

  “I didn’t need to hear that.”

  While Sebastian continued torturing his garage, Edie peeked around the corner and Maria leaned a shoulder against the nearest column, her eyes trailing Sebastian.

  “Actually I think Claire’s still at the dance studio. So this bizarre display of man-rage might be because you were out with Henry all afternoon.”

  Edie nearly dropped her bag, unsure which part of Maria’s statement startled her most: the idea that Sebastian knew she’d been with Henry, or the notion that it might’ve upset him so badly.

  “How did he know I was with Henry?” she asked.

  “Because I told him.” Maria gave Edie the same glare she’d given the fly a minute earlier. “That was the point of Henry’s little limo service, right? It’s not going to make Sebastian jealous if he doesn’t even know. God, you suck at subterfuge!”

  Edie couldn’t quite tell if Maria was goading her to make a confession or if she really did think Henry was on hire. Edie was about to set things straight but she didn’t know what to say. How many times could she argue that she and Henry were just hanging out as friends? The more she said it, the more she sounded like she was only trying to convince herself.

  As if sensing Edie’s quandary, Maria wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her an affectionate little squeeze.

  “Forget about boys,” she said. “Let’s go find some comfort food.”

  “You eat comfort food?”

  “Totally, but only on Fridays, full moons, and even-month holidays.”

  Edie laughed as she leaned into Maria’s embrace, grateful one relationship wasn’t making her head spin.

  “C’mon.” Maria steered Edie toward the front door. “We’ve got about ten minutes to raid my dad’s secret snack drawer before Dear Mama gets home.”

  “Does he still keep mango gummy squares in there?”

  “I’m pretty sure he orders them special, just for us.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six