Spectacularly Broken (13 page)

“Just leave the sleeves intact,” he requested. “Then I can wear it with an undershirt.”

“Uh-huh,” I said while having absolutely no such designs. I knew where he was scarred, and I could see no good reason not to work around that. I wanted to show off his slender body as much as he’d allow me to.

He left me to my task. As he walked away, I couldn’t help but watch. He made for such a graceful picture—tall, slim but well defined. I felt stupidly fuzzy and wondered why as I sat there clutching his shirt. It smelled like him too. God.

Then I realized I was sitting there sniffing at Cai’s shirt, which was all kinds of weird and creepy, and what the hell was I doing?

Shaking my head at myself, I reached for the scissors and went to work.

* * * *

In the early evening, I stopped by my room just to find Cai, Jarett, and Nicky there, sitting around eating candy.

“There you are,” Jarett welcomed me cheerfully. “We got that stuff that fizzles on your tongue.” He poured something into his mouth out of a tiny cardboard box.

Nicky stuck out his tongue, which was bright blue. “Did it stain?” he asked hopefully.

Cai reached for my left hand and slipped a gummy candy bracelet around my wrist. In return, I handed him his shirt back, minus a good third of its original fabric.

“Try it on. You shouldn’t need an undershirt, though.”

He gave me a skeptical look. Then he unfolded the now ragged-looking shirt and gave that a skeptical look as well.

“Okay,” he muttered.

Jarett looked on with a frown as Cai stood and marched out the door. “Where’s he going?”

“He changes in the bathroom,” Nicky explained with a shrug. “He said not to ask why, so I haven’t. Hey, can you make me a shirt too?”

“Sure, but later.” I gave him an apologetic look and lifted my hand. “Got a blister from the scissors.”

“Awesome,” he said, then frowned. “The shirt, I mean. Not the blister.”

“I would hope so.” I sat on my bed, watching Nicky demolish a Snickers bar and wondering if he was about to fall into a sugar coma.

“I was going to buy some Skittles,” Jarett told me. “But I can’t look at Skittles anymore without thinking ‘what did I learn yesterday’ and ‘tell me about your childhood.’”

“Unfortunate therapy side effect.” Nicky nodded sagely.

I threw myself onto my pillow. When Jarett offered me a lollipop, I took it—it was caramel-apple flavored and surprisingly not half-bad—and stuck it in my mouth while I stared at the bedsprings above me.

I didn’t move until the door opened and closed again. When I turned my head, Cai was standing there with a peculiar expression on his face. He was wearing the shirt I’d made him—sans undershirt.

I studied him with a critical eye. The shirt had already been form-fitting, so I hadn’t needed to knot the seams or anything. Instead I had removed the cuffs, neckline, and bottom seam and cut intricate spiderweb patterns into the fabric. They were, of course, more numerous on the right side, since he didn’t need to cover as much there. But even on the left I had found a few spots—the end of his sleeve below the elbow, the area next to his abs—where he could show skin.

He looked damn good in that shirt, and I wasn’t afraid to admit it. I’d never been one for false modesty anyway.

“You’re kind of a genius, you know.” Cai smiled at me.

“Okay, I’m not even close to being gay, but that’s hot,” Nicky opined. “Now I
really
want one.”

“I’ll work on it,” I promised him—again—while Cai sat on the edge of my bed. I kept ogling him under the pretense of studying my work. “Do you feel comfortable?”

“Wouldn’t be wearing it if I didn’t.” His smile widened as he reached out, plucked my lollipop out of my mouth, and put it in his own.

“Hey!”

“Get over it.” He stretched out next to me on top of the blanket. As Nicky and Jarett continued to rifle through their bag of sweets, Cai took the lollipop back out of his mouth and turned his head. His face was suddenly only inches from mine.

“Thanks,” he whispered. His breath smelled like apple.

“You’re welcome. It’s kind of nice to be good at something for once. Otherwise I’m kind of useless.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m serious. I’m pretty sure I’m shallow and self-centered,” I admitted. “Those are, like, my two main character traits. That’s…not good.”

He looked at me for a moment, mutely, before he reached out and stroked my temple and cheek.

“You come across that way sometimes, a little bit. It’s because you freak out about clothes, and you’re incredibly pretty, and you have this air of superiority about you.”

“You think I’m pretty?” I latched on to the one thing he’d said that I actually liked hearing. I tried to distract from the worst of my vanity by batting my eyelashes at him. That surprised a laugh out of him.

“Don’t let it get to your head. But you’re far from useless, Haze. You have a lot of empathy. Besides—” He hesitated for a moment before closing his eyes and continuing, “I don’t know if you even realize it, but you’ve done quite a bit for me.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me too.” He turned to his back again. “I’m gonna fall asleep if I keep lying here.”

“So sleep.” I yawned. “I don’t care.”

A couple of minutes later, I was out like a light.

* * * *

Cai woke me later with kisses on my throat and jaw. When I blinked my eyes open, smiling sleepily, I realized that Jarett and Nicky had left and the sun was setting.

“Hello,” I purred and raised my hands to stretch seductively.

Cai replied by nibbling at my ear. He tugged the lobe with his teeth, and then his tongue traced a wet path all the way to my mouth.

“Hi,” he said after kissing me thoroughly.

I reached for him and dragged him close. He tucked my head under his chin and held me for a little while, which felt beyond nice.

“Tell me something about you,” I requested.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Anything. Whatever you want. “

“Okay. Hmm. I love ranch dressing.”

I made a face. “Ew.”

“Does that make us incompatible?” he asked.

“Only if you eat bacon for breakfast too. I hate the smell of that.”

“No, I’m more of a pancakes-and-waffles kind of guy.”

“Perfect.” I squeezed him tightly.

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Your turn.”

I thought about it for a long moment, throwing out idea after idea because they didn’t fit with me being “Haze,” and I didn’t want to point-blank lie to him about anything. It was bad enough he didn’t know my real name.

“I’ve been a vegetarian for a long time,” I said eventually. “I think I was nine. I really hated pork. The smell of it made me sick, and we kept having it for dinner. Then I saw something on TV about pigs in factory farming—on the Discovery Channel, I think—and they mentioned vegetarianism, and it sounded like the best idea ever. I declared myself a vegetarian without even realizing it included all meat.”

Cai chuckled. “How long did it take until you figured that out?”

“Not long. After I told everyone in no uncertain terms about my decision, nobody ever put meat on my plate again, but I realized soon enough that I didn’t miss it. Your turn again.”

“Hmm. My dad’s a high school history teacher.”

“Does he teach at the same high school you went to?”

“No, thank God.”

“I imagine it’s better that way.”

“Yeah. For sure. Your turn.”

“When I was little, I threw a tantrum because my eyes weren’t green.”

Once again I made Cai laugh. I really liked being able to do that. “Okay, what?”

“My mom had green eyes, my dad’s are blue, and I thought green was prettier. So I blamed my dad and didn’t speak to him for, like, two weeks.”

“You were a very peculiar child.”

“No kidding.” I lifted my hand a little and stroked his neck with my fingertips. “Your turn.”

He sighed contently. “Okay, um…I once punched my best friend in the face because she insisted boys couldn’t wear makeup.”

“How old were you?”

“I’m not sure. It happened in grade school.”

“Did she stay your best friend?”

“We had a period of, er, animosity, but eventually we got over it, yeah. Until her family moved to Vermont a couple of years later.”

“Hmm.” I stole a quick kiss before I demanded, “Tell me something bad about you. Something you don’t like to admit.”

“What is this, therapy?”

“You cuddle with your therapist?”

He snorted. “I don’t even really talk to my therapist. But fine. Punching my best friend isn’t bad enough?”

“That’s kid stuff. I want dark and dirty.”

Cai sighed deeply, but to my surprise, he obliged. “I had a pretty hardcore painkiller addiction until fairly recently. You might have noticed I’m still not quite past it.”

That made sense, given our talk up on the roof. But then a very uncomfortable thought popped into my head. “Does being around me make it worse?”

“’Cause you’re an addict too? No, actually. Talking about the cravings helps more than pretending they don’t exist. I went to rehab, and I’m better now, it’s just…there’s a lot of stuff I’m still dealing with. I’m not always strong enough. Did you ever do rehab?”

“No. My dad didn’t think it would help. And I have to admit, there’s a good chance he might be right. My problem isn’t my lack of self-control or needing the high to feel better or anything like that. I’m just bored.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I reconsidered my words. “I sound like such a tool.”

“No, you don’t. Just because other people might have worse problems doesn’t mean you’re not allowed one.”

“I guess.” I swallowed hard. “I hope so. ’Cause compared to most other people here, I really am just kind of pathetic. So many have been through some really bad shit. And I’m here because I’m a brat. Man.” I cringed.

“Honestly, I’m glad. Because that means you have a good chance of fixing this, and I want you to. I want your life to be good, you know.” Cai squeezed me tightly.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Mm-hm.”

We stopped talking and simply lay there for some time, breathing together. His body was solid and warm and comfortable, his presence soothing. I let my mind wander, and slowly I came to the realization that being in Cai’s arms felt right in a way that nothing ever had before.

“Cai?” I asked.

“Yeah?”

“Is this weird? You and me? Whatever this is?”

I felt him move. He pulled away far enough to be able to look at me. “I don’t know,” he said. “Probably. I don’t know. Who cares?” He appeared to search my face for something, finally brushing his fingertips through my hair. “Does it freak you out?”

I swallowed hard. “I’ve had sex before. A lot. A hell of a lot. I’m kind of a slut, to be honest, and I’m telling you that because you should probably know what you’re getting into here. But it’s never been anything more than that for me.”

“So you’ve never had a boyfriend?”

“No. Not even close.”

“I don’t mind. I’m really not concerned about your past. But…” He hesitated.

“But?” I asked nervously.

“Mine might be an issue.”

I was about to point out that this would be quite tricky for me to know since he didn’t want to share any of it with me, but that sounded horrible just saying it in my head, so I kept my mouth shut. He would have beat me to it anyway.

“I don’t mean precisely what happened, just… I’m so fucked up, Haze. I need you to know that. I don’t know if I can be fixed. I’ve been on suicide watch. What I wrote for the
Brave
exercise…I wasn’t exaggerating. I meant every word of that. I don’t want to scare you off, but like you told me, you need to know what you’re getting into.”

“I’m not leaving.”

I’d meant for it to be a simple reassurance, but it ended up sounding more like a vow.

Chapter Fourteen

We were breaking rules all over the place—and talking Angie into letting us.

“What about
g
?” I wanted to know. “Can I use a
g
word that makes a
j
sound?”

“That’s not really how—” Angie tried, but Jarett interrupted her.

“I want another letter.”

“Yeah,
j
really doesn’t work well for this,” Cai supported him. “What’s your middle name, dude?”

Jarett blinked up at him. “Mark,” he said.

“Okay. I’ll use an
m
word.” Cai snagged the dictionary from Nicky and started searching.

“Well, I’m still using a
g
word,” I said, feeling contrary.

“My name doesn’t start with a
g
,” Jarett pointed out peevishly.

“Yeah, well, build a bridge.”

Jarett stared. “What?”

“Get over it,” I explained helpfully. He gave me a look of death.

I scribbled
generous
on my paper even though at this point I was feeling the opposite. After all, the word wasn’t supposed to describe
me.

“
M
is fine,” Jarett grumbled. “Use an
m
word.”

“Not a chance.” I crumpled up my paper and tossed it at him across the loose circle we were forming, sitting on the floor. For some reason, green group had completely given up on using the chairs in the rec room. Lexa had actually brought her pillow along today and was propping herself up on it. It looked comfortable. I considered doing the same.

When Jarett had received a slip of paper from each of us and added his own, he unfolded them all and spread them out in front of him. He studied them silently for a while.

“Huh,” he grunted then.

“Anything surprising?” Angie asked.

“No. Well, yeah.” He pointed at the word I’d written. “That’s from Haze, obviously. He wrote
generous
. I’m not sure why, though.”

I was surprised it wasn’t more obvious. “Jarett, you shared your candy with me. You went to Nicky’s room for Cai. You’ve let me get away with all sorts of nonsense. You’re totally generous in all sorts of ways.”

Angie tactfully refrained from asking what I meant by “nonsense.”

“Anything else you’re noticing about the words you got?” she kept digging.