Making It Through

Copyright © 2016 Erin Cristofoli

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, any event, occurrence, or incident is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created and thought up from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

ISBN-13: 978-1533470737

Cover Design:

Erin Cristofoli

Ali Winters

Editing:

PK Designs

Formatting:

PK Designs

To Len.

Wishing you were

here to share this with.

Did I ever really know how to breathe? Why couldn’t I seem to remember now?

Numb. I can’t feel my body. Does it even matter? Maybe not feeling is better than the alternative. What matters now anyway? Nothing.

It’s funny—and not in the ha-ha kind of way—how one moment could effectively destroy life as I knew it.

My name is Madelyne Stewart, Mady if you want me to answer you. I’m just a regular twenty-year-old university student, with great friends, an active social life, and a wonderful family.

Well, about a month ago, all of that would have been true. I had the perfect life. One moment. That’s all it took to change everything.

Two months earlier...

My friend Meagan asked, “Mady! You up for the club tonight?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, sure, I guess so.”

When I had arrived at my friends’ apartment, we'd agreed that we would have an evening in, just us three girls. However, not long after I had gotten there, Chloe received a call from one of her friends. All of a sudden, we just
had
to go clubbing. I didn’t want to blow the girls' electrified mood, but this week had kicked my ass, and I just wanted to lounge on the couch in my comfortable, plaid-flannel pants, watch old movies, and eat a whole bag of popcorn by myself.

“Here, wear this,” Meagan instructed me, throwing a cute, little black dress my way. Chloe followed by throwing some stupidly high heels at me, narrowly missing my neck with the spike.

“Holy hell, Chloe, you could've killed me.” I scowled at her.

“So... are you going to invite loverboy to join us?” Chloe asked, completely ignoring my complaint.

“Noooo, Colin has to study tonight,” I responded dryly, as I slipped into the too-short dress. Neither Meagan nor Chloe were fond of Colin, but we’d only been dating a few weeks. He was a nice—albeit a bit boring—kind of guy.

I sat at the vanity in the corner and pinned my long, burgundy hair into a high pony tail. Makeup wasn’t a daily ritual for me, but I loved how a smoky eye accentuated my hazel eyes, so I tried to make the effort when we were going out. With a little gloss, my face was done, so I raided Meagan’s jewelry box on her dresser.

“Why don’t you ever borrow jewelry from me?” Chloe asked, watching as I rummaged.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You and I have very different taste, that’s why. I prefer not to have spikes on anything I wear.”

Before turning her attention to Meagan, she scowled at me. She knew I was right; I couldn't pull off the rock-star-edge of her wardrobe.

Chloe and Meagan chattered back and forth, about a class they both took, until they were presentable. Meagan wore a tight lavender dress with crisscrossed straps, and Chloe's stunning, red mini-dress left little to the imagination. We exited their building and hailed a cab. Chloe gave directions to the cabbie, and we were on our way for our spur-of-the-moment night out.

A short time later, the cab pulled to the curb in front of The Indigo Room, a well-known, university student hot spot in downtown Toronto. Looking at the line of people waiting, I groaned; there was no way we were going to get in.

I started for the line anyway, when Meagan grabbed my arm. “Wait.”

Chloe talked to the bouncer, running her hand up his arm and giggling when he whispered in her ear. She nodded, and then motioned for us to join them. The bouncer grinned at Chloe as we passed, and I laughed. I wondered what she had promised him.

She was a total flirt—always had been—and men seemed to drop at her feet. I could understand why; I'd always been a little jealous of the extra five inches she had on me, and she owned every curve on her 5'-10" frame. Her rich dark brown bob, and espresso eyes that always seemed to sparkle with attitude, both completed her spunky package.

Meagan, on the other hand, was completely opposite. Her long strawberry blond hair always cascaded down her back, and stunning green eyes missed nothing. She kept her 5'-3" body well-toned by constantly running. If I was into girls, I'd be into Meagan. Except, we'd known each other since birth, so we were more like sisters than friends. Chloe had joined our ranks in sixth grade, and we'd been inseparable since.

My two best friends weren’t just opposites in looks, but in personality, as well. Chloe was loud and never hesitated to speak her mind, no matter what the cost. Shy and more emotional, Meagan always took a gentler approach. I fit between the two—tears could spark for the smallest things, and I was more on the shy side when it came to letting people see the real me, but I definitely could have an attitude when needed. For some inexplicable reason, the three of us just clicked, and I loved them wholeheartedly.

We moved around the club, searching for a place to sit—the left and back walls were lined with booths, a long bar ran the length of the right wall, and the large dance floor in the middle was in full swing.

Luck was on our side. As we were passing some of the booths, the one ahead of us cleared out, and Meagan quickly slid in to claim it.

“I’ll go get round one. Be right back.” I made my way around the edge of the dance floor and over to a free spot at the bar. As it was, I knew it would take time to get noticed. While I waited, I felt a presence behind me, which I tried to ignore. I didn’t need some random guy trying to make a move before
I'd
even had my first drink. Besides, I wasn’t trolling. But, the person didn’t go away, and just as the bartender looked my way, I noticed a hand rest on the bar beside me. I hastily placed my order. When the bartender returned, I heard a voice say over the music, “I’ve got that.”

Oh, hell no
. “Thanks, but no thanks.” I put on my no nonsense face and turned to look at the guy. It was Matt Stewart—my brother.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked me as he slipped $40 to the bartender.

“I could ask you the same question!”

“
I'm
partying.” He looked me up and down, his brows pulled together, studying me. “You on the other hand, well, I’m not sure I needed to see my little sister in that dress.” He scrunched his nose, faking disgust, but he couldn’t disguise the twinkle in his eyes.

“Jerk!” I punched him lightly.

He laughed heartily, the dimple showing in his right cheek. We left the bar with Matt grabbing two of the drinks for me, but instead of heading back to our table, I followed him to where his group of friends stood. Nerves immediately kicked in.

Matt was almost four years older than me. Growing up, we were only as close as siblings who have nothing in common can be. He had his own set of friends, and a little sister tagging along was definitely not seen as the cool thing to do. When I hit eighteen, though, things began to change. We started to hang out quite a bit more, especially in the last year, because, as it turned out, we had many of the same interests.

He never hesitated to introduce me to his friends when they were around, but I still wasn’t exactly comfortable hanging out with them.

“Everyone, this is Mady.”

Waves and shouts of hello came my way. One guy took a step forward with a wicked look in his eyes. “Where did you find this one, Matt? You can’t have them all, you know. Can I have this one, please? I mean look at her—”

“Dude! This is my baby sister!” Matt growled. “Touch her, and I will kill you. Seriously.”

His friend quickly backed off, hands raised in surrender, and I couldn’t help the giggling that escaped as my good-natured brother returned.

“My friends and I have a booth over on the other side. Why don’t you come and join us?” I suggested.

Everyone happily agreed, and I found myself excited to hang out with Matt. We got to the table, and it only took a moment before we were all crammed in, laughing, the liquor flowing.

He was unlike anyone I had ever known— six-foot tall, shaggy, dirty-blond hair, and hazel eyes that matched my own. He was vibrant and full of life, someone you would never hesitate to spend time with. We were both on the creative side; we played music together often, and we both wrote poetry. His abundant encouragement pushed me to write and create, and he absolutely insisted on reading and listening to everything I wrote. I knew I was blessed to call him my brother.

It wasn’t long before the table was littered with multiple pitchers of various drinks. I had started to feel pretty good—not drunk, just on the edge of tipsy—when I noticed a fine piece of a man approach our table, and his eyes fell on me.

“Dance?” he shouted over the music. I shrugged and nodded. Why the hell not? I hadn’t been on the floor yet, and he was a nice piece of eye candy. Matt scowled, and I winked at him as I was guided to the dance floor.

“Joe.”

“Mady.”

We moved pretty well together, and the one song I had expected ended up turning into four. By the end of the fourth song, I was definitely ready to head back to the group. Joe didn’t seem to want to let go. He pulled me back to him and into his arms. I could see the group clearly, and I kept my eyes focused there, waiting to get the chance to catch someone’s attention. Almost as if he could sense it, Matt’s eyes hit mine. I motioned for him to help me.

Matt bounded over so fast, I could have sworn he was super human. He pushed his way between us, giving me much-needed space, and put his arm around my shoulders protectively. “Time’s up.”

Joe reached to grab my hand, but Matt put a hand against his chest.

“Move on,” he shouted.

Joe quickly disappeared back into the crowd.

We took a step towards our friends, just as
Where the Ladies At
started to play. Both of us loved that song, so Matt pulled me back to dance with him. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Matt was a great dancer, because he was great at everything, but he had moves I'd never seen before. I tried to keep up with him and all his crazy, but confidence in my own moves simply did not exist.

I walked toward our table, but he pulled me back, spinning me. I stood as he danced circles around me, adding more and more silly moves. I couldn’t help but join in, my inhibitions melting away, and in moments, we were laughing like children. Matt had a talent for drawing me from my shell. When we were both good and tired, we made our way back to our table.

“Thank you,” I spoke into his ear.

Matt laughed. “For what? Embarrassing you? Anytime!”

“No, no, for saving me back there. You’re a real knight in shining armor.”

Matt hugged me tight. “I will always be there for you, Mady,
always
.”