Every Shattered Thing (Come Alive) (31 page)

Her gait looks familiar, her blonde hair flowing behind her with the breeze coming from the nearby windows. The sunlight coming from behind gives her an almost ethereal look and I fight the emotions welling up inside —jealousy, confusion, hurt. My mind jumps to conclusions before even focusing on what’s really going on. I can’t help but think I’ve seen her before, though...

It’s Natalie. The woman from the hospital.

What’s she doing here?

Within seconds, she’s standing next to Kevin, leaning over and whispering in his ear. He remains still, as if she’s not even there. She whispers for a while, and it’s not until she tucks her hair behind her ear and stands upright that his expression changes to a determined glare. Without showing any recognition of the girl in front of him, he raises his head and sticks his cell phone in his pocket. Getting up, he finds my gaze and nods his head and, so quick I could have missed it, offers me a small smile before turning and walking away. Natalie remains, arms crossed and standing firm by the bench. She turns her head from watching Kevin and I jump as she catches me staring.

Kristi and dad notice, and turn and look to see why I’m reacting so harshly. They look right at the blonde but say nothing. My dad turns back around and stares at me as if I’ve gone crazy.

“Who’s that? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

My eyes fly to his and then away like a skittish colt. I try to remember her words in the hospital and try not to wonder why she’s talking with Kevin, but try as I might the thoughts won’t quiet down.

“I’m just not feeling well. I thought she was one of my teachers.”

Dad snorts and continues talking with Kristi, content with my response. I overhear my dad pinpointing girls and my stomach lurches in protest. Resting my head in my hands, I close my eyes, hoping against all hope that somehow Natalie sees me and knows something isn’t right.

* * *

Confident with his choices, my father stands up, adjusting his belt. I peek between my fingers.

Looking at Kristi, he juts his head toward a girl.

“How long before she’s ready?”

Kristi follows his eyes and smiles. “Nervous. Clingy. Yeah. She won’t take long. Maybe two weeks?”

Dad rearranges his chew and nods. “Keep watching. Eventually she’ll fall into our hands.”

They begin talking about logistics: whether to continue posting on Craigslist as salon services, whether or not the other website serving as a back door would suffice, whether or not the local police department will continue supporting them with customers.

I swallow against the words and disgust rising in my throat.

Kristi’s voice cuts through my thoughts and I realize both of them are looking at me. I rub my eyes and fake a yawn.

“Sorry. I almost fell asleep. What’d you say?”

“I said if I had your help it wouldn’t take as long.” Kristi shrugs and moves her head to find my eyes. “Would you consider helping if I told you it meant less customers for you? Less work—more sleep?”

I search her face and clear my throat against the thick bile of distrust. I find a piece of hair and start twirling it. She mistakes my hesitation for consideration and adds. “It would mean Sam re-enrolling you at the high school. Probably after Christmas. All you would need is to pay attention. Make some girl friends, especially the quiet ones. The ones who just broke up with their boyfriends or who have no father are even better. Leave our wordless business cards lying around for the boys to pick up.” She smiles.

“Trust me. Their dads will know what the business cards mean when they bring them home.”

“Kristi, I wouldn’t help you if my life depended on it.”

Her face blanches and dad shifts his weight and settles deep into his boots. He leans forward so his hands rest on the table inches from my body. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”

I allow him a grin before rolling my eyes. “Trust me. Offing me will be the least of your worries.

It may even be doing me a favor.”

Kristi groans and moves her hands through her hair. “Honestly, Stephanie? You’re fucking annoying. Your dad may not get the privilege. I may beat him to it.”

And my dad starts laughing as if she made a joke about the latest political embarrassment and not my life. I grimace as he locates the nearest trash and spits his chew, wiping his mouth on the way back to the table. Still chuckling, he motions toward me.

“I’m going to take her home and upload those pictures to the website.” Glancing around the tables, he picks at his teeth with a leftover fork and nods his head. “You think you can get one of these to me today?”

Both of them focus on one girl in particular. She’s alone and focused on the screen of her phone.

Every once in awhile she moves her hand to wipe her cheek like she’s crying. Kristi stretches and points the girl out as an easy target.

“Oh yeah. She’s alone and vulnerable. Give me three hours.”

My dad nods his approval and pulls me away from the table. I can’t stop thinking about the girl—

what she’s about to face. I have to do something. I’m willing to try anything. I find myself out of his grasp and put my hands up in defense.

“I think I forgot the camera.”

He stands still, not thinking through the statement enough to remember Kristi giving it back to him. I walk over to the table, my eyes on Natalie the whole time. She’s walking over to the girl with the phone, whispering in her ear. I turn around and throw my arms out in wonder. “Never mind. It’s not over here.”

Before I reach my dad, the girl is already gone.

Natalie catches my gaze and smiles.

* * *

My dad’s driving is erratic at best. He’s been on the phone the entire time getting more and more frustrated and angry. Something upsets him again and he starts spitting out a list of cuss words as we careen into our driveway. My head bounces against the ceiling of the truck. I open the door as soon as we come to a halt and begin walking to the front door, rubbing my scalp the entire way. I reach for my keys and remember my bag is still in my room. Impatiently, I wait for my dad to get off the phone so he can unlock the door.

“Don’t tell me the feds are hot on our tail. Fucking
do
something about it or I will.” His voice threatens. Without any warning, pictures of Chad fill my memory and I grimace.

Please. Don’t let him take his anger out on me.

I see him come around the corner and question whether or not to meet his gaze. I choose not to, and keep my eyes on the doorknob as he unlocks it. I can still feel his breathing, heavy and labored. He hasn’t gained control of his anger yet, and I refuse to bear the brunt of his fists. As soon as he opens the door, we’re hit with the stench of stale trash and spilt alcohol. I wrinkle my nose and fight a sigh.

Stepping into the house, I head to my room. I almost make it to my door.

“Hey, Steph.”

I cringe at his voice and slowly turn, not knowing what to expect. He’s still picking his teeth with the fork from the food court. “You may wanna get some rest. Busy night. No falling asleep this time.” He smiles and the grin doesn’t even reach his eyes, evil radiating from every pore. “Who knows. You may get lucky. You may even catch a sunrise.”

Without waiting for a response, he turns around whistling and heads to the back door.

My stomach turns and my blood starts racing. I nearly make it to the bathroom before puking.

I stay in the bathroom for nearly half an hour, my insides quivering with rioting upheaval.

Stumbling into my room, I collapse on my bed and stare mindlessly into space. I’m feeling hopeless. I notice a bottle of pain pills given to me last time I was in the hospital sitting innocently on a nearby shelf.

Maybe my rescue would fall into my own hands.

Maybe my rescue will mean me taking my own life.

I think about everything I’d leave behind. Pacey has Emma and Jude. My relationship with them is cut off because of my father.

Kevin.

My heart twists at the thought of him. All of the memories crash into each other and beg for space. Running from trains and splitting cinnamon rolls and piggy back rides, things I’ll never experience again. I squeeze my eyes shut against the realization of beauty never again existing within my memory and the pain grows so intense I can’t take it anymore. I reach for the bottle.

People will understand. The truth will come out—eventually.

I wonder if authorities will connect my suicide with Marisol’s death. Maybe, just maybe, my death will perk the attention of the media. Two suicides in a week? Both the same way? The plan seems foolproof. I silently hope the message I’ve been trying to send will finally be loud and clear. Unscrewing the lid, I pour out the rest of the pills and stare at the pink and blue flecks of color.

I grab the glass of water left on my nightstand.

I hear my dad in the living room—talking on his cell phone. His voice is getting louder and louder but I only make out a few phrases like “getting things ready” and “knowing when to break and head east.”

I hear a door slam.

My mind, my heart— everything is focused on ending the pain.

I look again at the pills and swallow any fear or doubt left behind.

I can do this.

I hear a tap on my window.

My head jerks up and I toss the pills underneath my bed. I wrinkle my brow at the interruption and make my way to the window. Pulling back my curtains, I notice two things: my dad’s truck not in the driveway and Kevin staring at me from the other side.

Chapter Thirty-One

My heart’s pounding as I make my way to the front door, thoughts of
why is he here?!
mix with exquisite glee. Seeing him does something altogether different with my emotions. Different than anything I’ve ever experienced. I panic as I briefly remember the pills strewn all over the floor of my room, but then remember he’s never even seen the inside of my house, and probably won’t tonight.

I open the door and see Kevin. Without thinking, I collapse against the wooden frame.

“You.” I manage to squeak out.

He raises an eyebrow and pulls an envelope out of his pocket.

“Hi, Steph,” he whispers. I notice the visible grief on his face and look away. I wonder if he’s coming to talk about seeing me at the mall.

“I saw you earlier today. Are you following me?”

He smiles and shrugs his shoulders, still fingering the envelope in his hands. I grab his arm and lead him toward our front yard.

“Why was Natalie there? Are you guys planning something? Kev...please don’t do anything stupid. Please. Remember what I said.”

Translation:
I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me forever.

Kevin looks at me and tilts his head. “Natalie?”

“I saw Natalie walk up to you and whisper in your ear. Right before you left. She walked over to you at the bench and...” It's obvious he has no idea what I’m talking about or doesn’t want to talk about it so I bite my lip and look away.

Be strong, Steph. Remember. You’re dirty. Ruined. He’s better off without you complicating his
life.

He hands me the envelope and I look at him questioningly.

“What’s this?”

“It’s yours. It came in the mail today from USC.”

I glance down at the envelope and “Office of Admissions” catches my eye. I lift my head to meet his gaze and widen my eyes. My heart starts beating rapidly and I thrust the papers back toward Kevin.

You’ve gotta be kidding me. There’s no way I can open this—no way I can know. Not right now.

Not when my life is hopeless.
I think again about the empty pill bottle on my nightstand and shake my head.

“I-I can’t open this.” I chance a look at him and cross my arms against my chest, shielding myself from the cold wind scraping against my heart. My hands grab either side of my shirt, but I know he notices the way they shake.

“Do you want me to open it?” He asks and I simply nod, not trusting my voice for anything. I can’t help but notice his distance. By now he’s usually wrapping his arms around me to keep the cold away.

He must think I’m disgusting,

He moves to open the letter and reads the piece of paper tucked safely inside and I wait. My mind is going crazy with conflicted thoughts and feelings -

Please be an acceptance. Please be an acceptance.

Don’t get my hopes up. Don’t get my hopes up.

I don’t even notice my hands moving close to my mouth, clasped in anticipation. I don’t even know why I’m so anxious when seconds ago I planned on ending everything.

Kevin hides his reaction well; I can’t read his face at all. He looks at me and holds my gaze for what seems like eternity before opening his mouth.

“Steph...”

“What? What?! Tell me. Wait. No...don’t. Unless it’s good. Is it good?”

He steps closer. His hand reaches for a strand of hair blowing in the wind.

“You got in.” He whispers.

“I...”

I can’t breathe.

Holy shit. Holy shit I did it. I got in.

I laugh and squeeze his wrist, his fingers grazing my cheek.

“I got in?” I whisper back, still unsure of whether or not I should believe.

“You did it, Steph....”

A low voice growls from the driveway and I freeze.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

“What the
hell
are you doing here, punk?” his voice slurs and I shake my head against the fear.

He’s been drinking. Upset about the earlier phone call, he must have gone to the local bar to toss back a few before working on the website like he told Kristi. I glance at Kevin, who moves his hand and acts as if he’s flicked something off of his finger into the yard. He places the letter in his back pocket.

“Hello, Mr. Tiller.”

He’s covering any sort of apprehension well, but I know he’s scared out of his mind. There’s a slight tremor to his hands.

“I know you don’t like surprise visitors, but Mrs. Peabody mentioned Steph was withdrawn for medical reasons and had me stop by and bring her a card from the class.”