The Year We Fell Apart (11 page)

“Don’t you dare.” She twists a curl around her finger.

I try to return her smile, but it doesn’t feel right. “Sure I can’t get you anything?”

“No, thanks.” She sinks into her goose-down pillow. “I’m just fine.”

  *  *  *  

I’m late for class. I left the house as soon as Dad came upstairs to check on Mom, but the next forty-five minutes were devoted to driving aimlessly around town. Now all the parking spots near the front entrance to the community center are taken, so I have to park all the way around the building. I go in through a side door, which is right near the indoor pool. I slow as I pass by the window. Only one person is taking advantage of the quiet lanes, and I wish I could join him. If I had a suit with me, I probably would ditch Photography.

It’s been four months since I swam in a pool. And fine, I’ll admit it: Every time Cory heads off to a practice or I see my team swimsuit in the closet, I start to miss everything about it. The burn in my lungs on the last lap, the smell of chlorine. And cheering on my teammates. Those friends, being a part of something bigger than myself, that’s what I miss most of all.

Mr. Harrison is halfway through a critique of another student’s photograph when I slip into the room. In our usual spot, Mackenzie is sandwiched between Gwen and Declan. A seat is open on Declan’s other side. Maybe he saved it for me.

Probably not.

I walk past them and sit on the opposite side of the room. After I’ve settled in, I try to focus on what Mr. Harrison is saying about lighting and aperture, but my eyes keep sliding back over to Declan. I still can’t believe I tried to kiss him.

I remember every kiss we ever shared. I always considered our second kiss to be the worst. It was two weeks after Leah Gilmore’s party, and in the days between, we’d barely spoken. And we were quiet then, too, sitting on damp grass in his backyard, watching fireflies spark between the pines. We were scared. Or I was, at least. Terrified that our first kiss had ruined everything. Terrified it would never be repeated. Most of all, terrified that Declan wanted me only because I was a relic of the life he’d lost when Natalie died.

But then he leaned closer, stopping half an inch away. He whispered my name, and I closed the distance.

I wanted to be excited, but all I could feel was Declan’s anguish. He was overflowing with it, and with his lips pressing hard against mine, his hand clutching my hair, the doubts started to drown me.

Every nerve ending in my body rioted when I pulled away.

“What is it? Did I . . . Was that okay?”

I nodded, but didn’t say anything until he gently tucked a curl behind my ear. “What am I to you?”

He recoiled from my question. “What are you? Harper, you’re everything.”

“I can’t be everything.” I shook my head and picked at the blades of dewy grass.

“Well . . .” He frowned. “Then what do you want to be?”

“I want . . .”

“I mean, what am I to you?”

I let out a shaky laugh and dried my palms on my jeans. My answer was barely more than a whisper. “Everything.”

He grinned and took my hand in his. “So are we really doing this? Are we together?”

My smile slipped as I traced his fingers. I wanted to be there for him, in every way he needed me. But I wasn’t sure I could give this much of myself away, not if these kisses meant something different to him than they did to me. “Would you have wanted this if things were different? I mean . . . how long have you . . . ?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Declan shifted to face me. “Sixth grade, when you went as Alice in Wonderland for Halloween, why do you think I went as the Mad Hatter? Why do you think I walk over to your house every morning so we can spend an extra four minutes on the bus together? Harper, I’ve been falling for you for as long as I can remember.”

As perfect as that night turned out, that second kiss was still the worst, most desperate one we ever had. Up until the kiss I stole at the bonfire last week.

We are never going to be able to have a normal conversation again. What was left of our friendship is definitely ruined. And anything more than that . . . well. It doesn’t matter what I was stupid enough to think could happen. If deep down I’m starving for Declan. The hunger pangs are there for a reason. They’re a necessary reminder that I had my chance. And it’s gone now.

Too much has happened since he left, and anyway, he has Mackenzie. Which I probably should have considered
before
attacking his mouth.

God, the look on his face when he pulled away. Pity. That’s what it was. And there is actually nothing worse than someone you love looking embarrassed for you. Not that I
love
Declan. That way. Anymore. I was just drunk, and it’s just some kind of residual crush. The kiss meant nothing.

He grabs Mackenzie’s spiral notebook and scribbles something in the margin before giving it back. She smiles and starts writing a response.

The page in front of me is still blank. I start shading every other line, pressing the pen harder and harder until the white page turns black.

I should be happy for him. Besides, Kyle isn’t all bad, now that I know him a little better. He’s exactly what I’m looking for. Just a casual summer fling.

Mackenzie giggles on the other side of the room. I glance up again, only this time I lock eyes with Declan. He isn’t laughing with her. A crease forms between his eyebrows, and it’s like he’s seeing straight through me, like I have no control over what sides of myself I let him see.

His lips part, as if he wants to mouth something to me.

“Miss Sloan, what would you call this one?”

I drop my pen. Mr. Harrison is looking up at the projected image of some flowers I took for today’s assignment.

“Call it?” I ask.

“Yes, give it a name.”

“Oh, um . . .” I push myself to sit up a little straighter. It’s just a stupid picture. Taken on a day that I thought Mom’s garden looked nice. “I really don’t know.”

“That might be the whole problem.”

Funny, I wasn’t aware I had a problem.

“Try to figure out what you want to say before you take the shot. See if that helps, next time.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

Sinking back down into my chair, I resume turning everything light to dark until class is over. I don’t take my eyes off the page again.

ALL-AGES NIGHT AT THE BOURBON
Lounge only comes once a month, and attendance is pretty much mandatory. My group hasn’t actually made it inside yet, but the pregame drinks are running low, so it’s only a matter of time. Kyle is sitting in the open trunk of his car. He takes a swig from a water bottle and holds it out to me. I shake my head.

Kyle passes the bottle off to Sadie and then snags his finger through my belt loop. He’s always doing that now. He pulls me closer, so I’m standing between his legs, and runs his hands up my hips. “You sure you don’t want anything to drink?”

“Yep.” As much as I’d love a little help outrunning the racing thoughts of Mom’s hair smeared all over the tub this morning, one of us needs to stay sober enough to drive. I look away again and Kyle lets go of me.

He stands and slams the trunk door down before drawing his arm over my shoulder. “Guys, we’re heading in, okay?”

Sadie is already deep into not-so-deep conversation with Mike Sanders. Her latest victim.

I mean infatuation.

She tucks the half-empty water bottle into the bottom of her purse and follows us to the entrance. None of us says another word until we’re past the bouncer, but once we’re inside, Sadie lets out a squeal and pulls Mike out onto the dance floor.

“You want to dance?” Kyle asks.

“Not really.”

He shoves his hands in his front pockets and looks around the room. Bourbon is part of an old tobacco warehouse that was converted into a series of restaurants and shops. Wood support beams are scattered throughout the main room, and the exposed brick walls are covered in vibrant paintings of jazz and rock musicians.

The stage is a small platform outlined in red velvet curtains. At the front, huge burlap bags of rice hang from the ceiling to help with acoustics. The band is already playing, filling the space with rich brass notes and a palpable energy.

I step away from Kyle and head to the bar. Sliding onto a stool, I catch the bartender’s attention and order a Coke. Kyle takes the seat next to mine, sending me a sidelong glance.

“Hey.” He swivels toward me and taps my wrist. It’s too familiar a gesture, and I pull my hand out from under his. His smile tightens, and I wonder if I’ve actually managed to hurt his feelings. He clears his throat. “You look nice tonight. I don’t remember if I told you that earlier but . . . yeah.”

I take a sip of my drink, then press the pad of each finger onto the bar top one at a time. “Thanks.”

I realize I’m bracing, waiting for him to touch my neck or lean closer. But he just clears his throat again and sits back in his bar stool.

“You know, the Bulls are having a really great season.”

“Oh . . . cool.”

“Yeah, ever been to a game?”

Across the bar, Declan is standing at a high-top table next to Mackenzie. Cory and Gwen are across from them. A guy I’ve never seen before has his arm around Gwen’s waist. I watch as Mackenzie lifts onto her tiptoes and whispers something to Declan, who tilts his head back in laughter.

I stab my straw into the ice in my glass. Kyle is watching me, waiting for me to respond. “Sorry, what?”

“A game. A Durham Bulls game. Ever been?”

“Oh. I think so. When I was a kid.”

“Maybe we could go together sometime.”

It must be Gwen’s boyfriend. And he’s probably only in town for the weekend. It would be rude not to say hello.

“Maybe. Um, I’ll be right back.” I slip off my stool and head over to them.

By the time I reach their table, Declan is gone. I turn around, scanning the crowd.

“Looking for someone?” Mackenzie asks.

“No.” I shift my weight and stand up straighter. “Nopers.”

She turns to Gwen. “Hey, did you see where Declan went?”

Gwen shrugs. “Harper, this is my boyfriend, Jason.” She winds her arm around his waist and beams up at him.

Jason isn’t exactly who I pictured Gwen with. I guess I figured he’d be a wacky musician covered in tattoos. Or at least have a piercing. But with his blond buzz cut and military posture, Jason is more boy-next-door than Cory.

I step forward and shake his hand. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

“You too. Guinevere has told me a lot about you.”

My eyes widen and I smash my lips together, barely able to contain my excitement. Guinevere already has a warning finger raised.

“Don’t. Don’t even try it. One hundred percent you are not allowed to call me Guinevere.”

My laugh catches in my throat when I see Sadie sandwiched between Mike and Kyle on the dance floor. Not that it’s a big deal, but I’m just not sure why she feels the need to dance with both of them.

Kyle whispers something in her ear. She pulls the water bottle out of her purse and hands it to him. He looks around, and then chugs from the bottle.
Super.

The tempo of the music picks up, and Jason drags Gwen out to dance. Mackenzie watches them go, then turns back to us with a hopeful expression. “Come on, guys! This song is so good!”

I wave my hand to decline, but Cory steps forward. “Okay.”

Mackenzie smiles broadly and skips after them with Cory in tow. I tuck my hair behind my ear and glance around again. Kyle is back at the bar, looking sloppier than ever.

I go outside for some fresh air.

  *  *  *  

Food trucks are lined up on the far end of the Bourbon parking lot—Korean barbecue, gourmet grilled cheeses, fried chicken and waffles. The scent of baked rosemary and warm maple syrup waft toward me. Suddenly I’m starving.

I pull one of the cigarettes Kyle gave me out of the mint tin in my purse and fumble with my lighter.

“Harper?”

Declan pushes off the brick wall a few yards down from me. He slides his phone into his back pocket and flips his keys around his finger. I look down at the unlit cigarette in my hand and quickly hide it away.

“Hey,” I say when he’s closer.

“Wasn’t sure if it was you for a second. Don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that straight hair.”

I comb my fingers through it and smile weakly.

He holds his keys a little higher. “I was just about to head out.”

“So early?”

“Yeah, my dad wants me home. You know how he is. . . .”

“Right.” I cross my arms and look at my feet. And since this moment isn’t awkward enough already, my stomach rumbles. It is ridiculously loud.

“Are you hungry? I can stay a couple more minutes if you want some company.”

A group of guys from school are standing around the pizza truck. Pete Carpenter is one of them. He and I made out for a while on New Year’s Eve. I also fooled around a bit with Jared Barlow after a swim meet in February. And in the parking lot after a school baseball game this spring, Connor Wates got all the way to third. Basically, I’ve hooked up with three of the four people waiting in line. Not a great ratio.

“No, that’s okay,” I say.

“All right.” He nods and looks over at his car. Maybe I should have said I was ravenous. “Listen, before I go, I wanted to ask if everything is okay. In class this morning you looked a little shaken up.”

“Oh.” I pick at a hangnail, keeping my eyes off him. “My mom started losing her hair today,” I say with a shrug.

“Oh, wow. Are you . . . well, no, of course you’re not okay.”

“Comes with the territory, right?” I try to smile, but I’m sure it comes off as more of a grimace. Declan still looks concerned. “It was just
so much
hair. I was cleaning handfuls of it out of her bathtub. I don’t know how that happens in one day.”

Declan hesitates with his hand over my shoulder. I think for a second he’s going to hug me, that tonight will be like it was up on the water tower, but he just gives my upper arm a squeeze and drops his hand. “Might get worse before it gets better. But it will get better.”