The Year We Fell Apart (27 page)

Sometimes I do wonder whether I could get it back, though. I mean, Mom’s right about one thing: I could try out again this fall. And sure, I wouldn’t be captain anymore. But that was never really the point. The point was, I loved it.

I think of what Mom said about happiness being a choice. Letting go of the things I can’t control is never as easy as she makes it out to be, but maybe she does have the right idea. I mean, if she can manage to enjoy life despite having freaking cancer, then there’s really no reason for me to wallow in my mistakes or let them dictate my whole future.

I strip down and put on one of the suits, then peek my head out the door. “Mom?”

“Right here.” She steps around the corner and looks me over, nodding her approval. “That’s darling. How does it feel?”

I turn back to the mirror. Looking at myself in this suit, I realize my mind is already made up.

“It feels good,” I say.

It feels like change. And for once, I think it might be exactly the kind of change I need.

  *  *  *  

The next day is a Friday, the last one before school starts. And there’s this energy in the air. Like everything is about to be different. Starting with Graham.

“All right,” he says after loading his last bag into the back of his car. “Time to go.”

He bends down to give Mom a gentle hug. She kisses his cheek and then holds his face between her palms. “No speeding, you hear me?”

“No speeding.”

Dad claps him on the back. “You give your mother a call sometime, okay? I don’t want to go until Thanksgiving without hearing from you.”

“I will. I might even come home for a weekend before that. We’ll see how my schedule is.”

I walk him around his car. “Finally have my bathroom to myself again.”

He smirks. “I’ll miss you too.” He gives me a hug and gets in the car. He turns it on and rolls down the window. “Anytime you need help around here, with Mom or anything . . . I’m just a call away, okay?”

“I know. Thanks, Graham.”

“Senior year.” He puts on sunglasses and nods, like he’s such a cool college kid, and smirks. “Be good.”

“I’ll do my best.”

He backs out of the driveway, and I watch until he’s all the way down the street. When I go back inside, the house feels emptier. Especially since Mom and Dad are on their way out too.

Mom’s in the kitchen, packing her bag. She has another chemo session today.

“Honey, do you know where that gardening book is?” she asks Dad. “One of the nurses wanted to borrow it.”

It’s amazing that even at the hospital, where she goes specifically to get chemo, people still know Mom likes to garden and cook, and that she’s more than just a cancer patient. Because she never lets the disease define her.

She finds the book and stuffs it in her bag. “We’ll be back around dinnertime,” she says to me. “And there’s lunch meat in the fridge, okay?”

Dad grabs his keys off the counter. “Call if you need me.”

“Of course. See you guys later.”

Then they’re out the door, and the house is entirely too quiet. I go up to my room and plug my phone in. It buzzes to life, and about a dozen messages from Mack and Gwen pop up. There are a few from Cory, too.

None from Declan.

I pace around my room for a few minutes, humming like a crazy person. But my phone finds its way back into my hands, and I type out a message.

Can we—

I hold down the delete button and toss my phone onto my bed. I start putting away clean laundry and take the tags off the clothes I got with Mom. The new bathing suit is at the bottom of the bag.

My thoughts shift to the swim team, to Jenny and that last day in the locker room. Jenny and I never talked about what happened with Jake. I never even apologized to her. And I can’t help but wonder whether the past few months might have been different if I had. If I’d faced the fallout head-on instead of allowing her to hear a skewed version of the truth from someone else.

I’m tired of avoiding people. Tired of shouldering all the blame. I don’t want my senior year to be a blur of hiding in the library during lunch, or cringing every time I pass Jenny. I’m already ill at the thought of running into Kyle, and the list of people to steer clear of is getting laughably long for a place as small as Carson.

But maybe it isn’t too late. Every attempt to talk in person has been a disaster, and I’m pretty sure it won’t be any easier come school on Monday. I need to find a different way to reach out to her.

I leave the swimsuit where it is and scan my bedroom. My eyes sweep across my desk and land on my photography notebook. A letter. I grab the notebook and turn to a blank page. I fill it with writing, then two more pages after that. Then I carefully tear along the perforated edge and find Jenny’s address in my old team directory. I write it neatly on an envelope and seal it, grabbing a stamp from the desk in my parents’ room.

The mail already came this morning, and this letter can’t hang around in my mailbox until tomorrow. I have to get it out of my hands right now. I grab my keys but stop at the top of the stairs.

I walk back into my room and stare at the shopping bag on my bed.

Technically, I am still extremely grounded. But Mom and Dad won’t be home from the hospital for another three hours. And really, Mom is the one who kept pressuring me about the swim team. She’s the one who told me I have to practice. I grab the swimsuit and head out the front door.

As soon as I drop the envelope into the blue postal box outside the community center, I feel the weight lift off my shoulders. I don’t expect Jenny to forgive me, or even understand the mistakes I’ve made. But taking responsibility for it, acknowledging that I hurt her and let the team down and that I’m sorry—that’s enough for now.

The familiar smell of chlorine hits me on my way to the locker room, and I inhale deeply. I change and stash my stuff and then I can’t wait any longer. I need to be underwater.

When I dive into a lane, despite the months I’ve spent out of a pool, it feels safe. In the water, I focus only on my breathing.
Kick, three strokes, breathe.
Everything else falls away.

An hour later, arms burning and legs noodly, I finish my laps and head back to the locker room. Still wrapped up in a towel, I pull my phone out of my bag.

Can we talk?

I hesitate, staring at the blinking cursor. Declan said things that were meant to cut me in places he knew would hurt most. But I hurt him first, and I can’t keep letting history repeat itself. I want to make things right, tell him the whole truth once and for all.

I press send and finish drying off. My shirt is halfway over my head when my phone buzzes with a new message. My heart starts to race before I can register who it’s from. But it’s Gwen again, checking in.

I try not to feel disappointed. Try to summon a smile as I dial Gwen’s number.

She picks up almost immediately. “Well, it’s about damn time.”

“You can’t be mad at me, I’m grounded.”

She seems to consider this. “How grounded?”

I shrug the phone between my cheek and shoulder and grab the rest of my stuff out of my locker. I’m actually terrified of getting caught breaking the rules. I don’t want to disappoint my parents, and I especially don’t want to incur Dad’s wrath if he finds out I snuck out. I have a long road ahead to gain their confidence again.

But the fact is, at this moment, I can’t really get into any more trouble. And I’m probably not going to have another opportunity to see my friends for a long time.

“I have a bit of wiggle room.”

  *  *  *  

I meet Gwen at Frank’s to pick at pancakes and sip on coffee. She’s trying so hard to make conversation, but every subject seems to be a sensitive one.

“So . . . Mack told me Declan is staying?”

I shrug and light up the screen of my phone. For the millionth time. “I’m not sure. It sounded like it, though.”

She’s itching to ask me how I feel about that, I just know. But what she says instead is, “Also heard you slapped him pretty good before we got out there.”

“I was upset . . . but I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Sounds to me like he had it coming,” she says quietly.

“Doesn’t make it right.”

A rambunctious group walks in and takes a booth behind us. I glance over my shoulder and snap back around. Stab my straw into the ice. Focus on the crunching.

“What?” Gwen looks over my shoulder. “What is it?”

My stomach has vanished. It’s just a hollow space there now, leaving room for the rest of my organs to spin.

She sees him. “Oh my God. Is that Kyle?”

Her jaw drops. She’s glaring at him, and then pulling her things together. She hesitates with one foot in the aisle, apparently torn between getting me to talk and getting me the hell out of here.

“It’s okay,” I say. I lick my lips and nod. “Really.”

She has her purse in her hand. “Are you sure?”

“We go to the same school.” I stab my straw into the ice again. “I can’t avoid him forever.”

As discreetly as possible, I peek again. His face is seriously fucked up. Black eye, busted lip. Cut across the bridge of his nose. A smile tugs at my lips but then it’s gone, because picturing Declan doing that to him doesn’t make me feel better. And imagining what Kyle must have said to make Declan snap
definitely
isn’t helping.

Gwen wipes her mouth. “So, I guess your honor was sufficiently defended. . . .”

My phone buzzes on the table.

We both stare at it. With a shallow breath, I tilt the screen toward me.

I’d like that. Can you meet me? I’m at the quarry.

“He wants to meet.”

She leans forward. “That’s good, right?”

My heart is pounding. “Yeah. I’m just . . . I don’t know what to say to him.”

She smiles. “Say everything.”

“Right. Okay, I have to go.” I toss a few bills onto the table. Gwen stands and turns to go out the side door. “No. This way.”

Kyle glares as I walk past. But I keep my head held high and I meet his stare. And I hold on to my truth.

With everything I have, I hold on.

HE’S WAITING AT THE QUARRY’S
edge, hunched forward with his forearms resting on his thighs. He glances up when he hears my footsteps. Slowly, I walk the last couple of feet and sit next to him. We both stare at the water.

He lets out a broken breath. “Are you okay?”

“There’s a difference,” I whisper. “I was drunk. Kyle took advantage of that. And I know I shouldn’t have put myself in that position, but I didn’t want to be with Kyle. You need to understand that.”

“I know.” He looks up again, and my pain is his pain is my pain. “But you’re okay?”

I hug my arms around myself and cave in. “I’m okay.”

He stands and holds his hand out. “Let’s take a walk.”

“A walk?” The skepticism comes through in my voice.

“Not far. There’s something I want to show you.”

My palm slips into his and he helps me up. He holds my hand for a moment longer than he needs to, and then he lets go.

I follow him along the quarry. He veers into the forest, but I hesitate. I’ve figured out where he’s taking me.

He looks over his shoulder. “Okay?”

The nerves about returning to our spot after all this time are overshadowed only by the dread that it won’t be there at all. But I nod and keep moving. We walk the rest of the way in silence. Finally, we reach the tree house. I stop at the trunk and resist the urge to hug it. Looking up, I picture us the last time we were here. Me in my green dress and Declan in his button-down shirt. Racing up the ladder to escape the rain.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He takes a deep breath. “Do you remember what you said to me the night before I left?”

I reach for the necklace that isn’t there anymore.

“You said it didn’t matter that we’d be apart. Because we had forever. You said you’d wait. And then six weeks later, you were done waiting.” He pauses. “I replayed our conversations over and over, trying to figure out what I’d done wrong.”

“It wasn’t that you did anything wrong.”

“But I wasn’t enough.”

I blink against the burning in my eyes. “Don’t say that.”

He shifts, and it’s excruciating, seeing it in his eyes. All the damage I’ve done. “I’ve been so angry with you for so long, Harper. When I got back this summer, I figured I’d take the high road. Be there for you even though you weren’t there for me. Because I wanted to prove you couldn’t hurt me anymore.”

The first tears spill over my lashes. I wipe my cheeks and cover my mouth.

“But then you kissed me at that party.” He shakes his head. “And everything just came crashing down on me.” He scratches his eyebrow and crosses his arms. “I wanted to kiss you back. And that made me angry all over again. But by the time I sorted things out and tried to talk to you, you’d already moved on.”

I rock forward. “I was being so stupid. And I thought you were into Mackenzie. But I never cared about Kyle, you have to know that.”

“How could I have known that? I mean, if that’s true . . .”

It feels like getting punched in the stomach. “You still don’t believe me about the other night, do you?”

He runs his hands down his face. “I . . .”

“Oh my God.” I shrink back, tripping over a twig.

“Harper, wait.” He strides forward, taking both my hands in his. “Of course I do. I believe you. And when I think about him putting his hands on you . . .” He grits his teeth and takes a long breath in and out. “But it was too easy for me to think it was happening all over again. That you were choosing someone else, rejecting me again. I was insanely jealous, and hurt—”

“But that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! I don’t care about him, or anyone else. It’s only ever been you.”

His lips press together. “And that’s why you kept my necklace?”

Relief washes over me. “Yes!”

“But you’re not wearing it now.”

I shift my gaze to the forest. “The other night, you were so . . .” I swallow. “You made me feel terrible about myself. I never thought you were capable of that.”