Fractured ( Fractured #1) (5 page)

Rob chuckle
d. I guess he realized how awkward I felt from my lack of eye contact. Thankfully, he changed the subject. “Do you like to play Scrabble?” He looked at me.

I didn’t look back. Instead, I smiled. “Yes, I do.”

“We’ll have to play.” I tilted my head in his direction. His dark lashes shaded his eyes, making him look mischievous.

Dillon ran behind me. He yelled, “It.”

Eric sprinted and stopped in front of us. “You mean base.” He lowered his head and placed his hands on his bent knees. Between huffs of breath he said, “Man… this boy… can… run.”

“Well, you just fueled him with that hot dog,” I said.

“Manny, home,” Dillon said. He wiggled his legs back and forth. He needed to use the bathroom.

Rob stood. A tingle ran through my body as
I took his outstretched hand so he could help me to my feet.

“Will you come to the park tomorrow?” Rob asked.

“Sure,” I said.
That didn’t sound too desperate, did it?

“Good. See you tomorrow.” He was a little taller than me, but just enough where I’d only need to be on my
tiptoes to reach his pillowy lips.

Dillon grabbed my hand and I knew he was ready to leave, although I wasn’t. I could have stayed there all day as long as Rob was there.
After we left, I wanted to turn and look at him again, just to last me the night, but I didn’t want him to know how pathetic I was.

Chapter Seven

The next day, I forced Dillon to go to the park. He wanted to stay home and leaf through his
airplane books, but I promised to take him to the hobby shop if he went.

“You can buy a model plane on the way home,” I said.
The bribe worked; he agreed to go.

Dillon ran through his park routine four times in two hours and I didn’t see either Rob or Eric. Finally, Dillon reminded me about my promise. Realizing how stupid I was
for believing that Rob would want to meet me, we walked toward the park exit.

On the way out of the park, three fire trucks zoomed past us. Dillon shoved his fingers in his ears to block
the screech of the sirens. It took a few minutes to stop him from jumping up and down in place after the trucks had passed. I wondered if it sounded that loud the night Rob’s house was on fire.

“Let’s go to the hobby shop,” I said.

Dillon’s smile was wide when I gave him the money to pay for his own purchase. “You carry it home. It’s yours,” I said. Although he’s ten and is challenged in some areas, my parents treat him as if he can’t do anything. That might be one of the reasons Dillon likes to do things with me; I always let him try. He has to learn, eventually.

Once back home, I set aside the things for dinner on the counter.
I opened the box with the model. Dillon sat in the chair next to me, watching every movement.

“First, you have to read the instructions,” I told him. “They tell you the order you have to put it together.” I pointed to
the directions. Dillon stared at the paper. “Step one: inventory all of the pieces to make sure none are missing.” When all of the parts were accounted for, I proceeded with step two.

An hour later, the model was complete. Dillon reache
d to take the plane. “No, Dill. Wait until the glue dries. Then you can paint it. Okay?”

With deliberate movements, I moved the plane to the kitchen counter so the glue could dry. “
Wanna set the table?”

The only sound was the scrape of his chair moving backward as he stood up. I handed him the plates, napkins, silverware, and cups. “Great job. Now, watch cartoons until I call you for dinner, okay?”

He marched into the living room and sat in his favorite spot on the couch. In a second, the television had Sponge Bob and Patrick Star off on one of their bizarre? adventures.

I lunged for the phone when it rang. “Hello?”

“Hey, Sweetie.”

“Hi, Dad.”

“I’m expecting a part to come in for Mrs. Sutton’s car. Phil called and said he’ll be bringing it by in an hour. I want to get her car back to her as soon as possible. Don’t hold dinner up for me. I won’t be home until late tonight. I’ll pick up a burger.”

Even though Dad
worked late sometimes so that he wouldn’t get backed up, it seemed to be happening more frequently. He was hardly ever home lately. “Okay, Dad.”

As I placed the phone back onto the base, Mom staggered into the kitchen. Her alcoholic breath left a vapor trail wherever she went. She was still wearing her nightgown. Using the counter to steady herself, she said, “Who was that?” She licked her dry lips.

“Dad. He’s working late.”

She leaned on the sink. Her brown hair was matted
, and her face was white and drawn in. “What a surprise.” Her tone was sarcastic. It was an effort for her to keep track of the conversation.

I tried to change the subject. “Dinner should be ready by the time Bryan comes home.”

“What slop are we having tonight?” She asked, squinting at me, trying to focus.

Ouch!
I may not be the best cook, but it’s edible, and it’s more than she does to provide for her family. “Tacos,” I said, as I cut up the lettuce and tried to keep my pride in check. She walked into the living room and threw herself onto the couch. Dillon had moved to the floor and didn’t even notice her. She pulled out a small square bottle from the pocket on her robe. Just stay in the kitchen, Mandy, otherwise she’ll say something hurtful to you again. She’s in one of her moods.

***

During the next three days, I made sure that there was something we needed at the supermarket every day. It was awful. My heart raced and my skin got clammy just thinking about catching a glimpse of Rob. I had no intention of talking to him; I was a bit angry that he hadn’t shown up at the park like he said he would.
Who am I kidding? I’d be spilling my guts if he spoke to me.

Using the reflection of the windows of the cars in the parking lot, I checked to make sure my hair didn’t look a wreck, and that the lipstick that I
had recently started wearing on a regular basis wasn’t smudged. That was all before I even walked through the front doors of the supermarket. I went at different times of the day, but he wasn’t there when I went. Finally, I told myself I had imagined his playful flirtation. I made a promise not to think about him again.
He’s not interested in you. He was just being nice to you at the park, Mandy. Why else do you think he didn’t show up? Push him out of your head
.

But, i
t didn’t work. No matter what I did to keep my mind free of him, I still thought of his beautiful face, his piercing, deep blue eyes, and that adorable dimple. I made it my business not to go to the supermarket after that. My family suffered through dinners made with strange combinations of ingredients. I had to use what we already had.

Two weeks into the summer, Bryan knocked on my bedroom door. “Jimmy and I have the day off. We’re
gonna hang out at the beach. Wanna come?”

“Who’s going to watch Dillon?” I asked.

“I am,” Dad walked up behind Bryan. “I’ll come home just before Dillon gets off the bus. Al will cover the shop this afternoon.” Al was his second in command. “I’m taking him to the airport to watch the planes take off and land.”

Excuse number two: “What about dinner?”

“Mandy, it’s only seven A.M.,” Dad said. “If you want, I’ll order in pizza.” Shot down again.

Excuse number three: “I’m not really into the beach.”

“Since when?” Bryan asked. “You can bring your sketch pad and draw me flirting with all the babes in bikinis.” He was serious.

Excuse number four:
Oh wait. I don’t have another one. Even if I did, I bet they’d shoot it down, too
.
My shoulders dropped in defeat. “Fine. Just let me throw a bag together.”

“A bag?” Bryan said.

“Yeah, I need a towel, sunscreen, bottled water, my sketch pad—”

“Okay, okay. Meet me
by the car in fifteen minutes.”

Once I rechecked my mental list three times to make sure I
hadn’t forgotten anything, I headed down the stairs. Jimmy was sitting on the couch watching
Sponge Bob
with Dillon. His stringy blond hair hung in his emerald eyes. I could hear Bryan looting the kitchen cabinets for goodies to take to the beach.

When I walked into the room, Jimmy sat up straight and shook his head to move the hair from his face. He was already shirtless and ready for a day of sun. Over the past year, Jimmy had filled out. He wasn’t skinny and formless any more. He had been working out on a regular basis with Bryan.
It showed.

“Hey, Mandy,” he said. His face brightened when I stepped in front of Dillon. Jimmy has had a small crush on me since we were kids, but whether it was because he was my brother’s best friend
and maybe there was some secret guy code about sisters of best friends he didn’t want to ruin, or because I treated him like another brother, he never offered me anything more than a short conversation. He was cute, and he had shot up at least three inches in the past year, but I knew Jimmy better than his own sisters. He spent a lot of time at our house. But he was definitely not my type. Actually, I never had a type until I went to the supermarket that day.

“Make sure the matron waves when he gets on the bus, Dad.”

“Okay,” Dad said.

“And don’t forget to give him a snack when he gets off the bus, before you go to the airport. He’s always hungry when he comes home.
Four cookies on the Spider-man plate, and milk in the matching cup.”

“Okay, Mandy.”

“And, don’t forget to tell him where you’re going when he walks into the house later.”

“Got it.”

“Give him at least ten minutes to process the information.

“Okay, Mandy.”

“And—“

“Enough. Just go to the beach.”

I was like the third wheel on a date, sitting in the backseat of the Mustang that Dad helped Bryan rebuild.

Dad’s voice played in my head, “A boy needs a car to reflect how he feels about himself. Bryan is wild and free, like a Mustang.” Me? I had to walk everywhere.
I guess Dad thought of me as more of a confined bus person. Dad’s conditions: no job, no car, no life.

Jimmy made sure to keep me involved in the conversation, which was mostly Bryan talking about how he and Jimmy were going to “score phone numbers.”

The parking lot was crowded with cars and we strolled the beach looking for the perfect spot, one that had a lot of “girl traffic”. Sun worshippers were scattered along the sand. I chose a spot away from Bryan and Jimmy. They came to flirt with girls. My being there would certainly ruin their macho display.

With my small sun
-umbrella and mismatched beach chair opened, I took out my sketchpad and pencils. I stared out at the ocean. There really wasn’t much to sketch, unless you counted some small children building a sand castle at the water’s edge, or the sailboat that was off in the distance.

An hour and three drawings of the same scene later, Bryan and Jimmy announced that they were going to the concession stand to “see what honeys they could chat it up with.” I turned my chair toward the parking lot and picked up my sketchpad. Two pictures of cars later, I heard a voice behind me.

“Do you always come to the beach alone and draw the cars in the parking lot?” I snapped my head around. Rob’s dimple was deep in his cheek, and his eyes were as blue as the ocean. And, he was shirtless! My jaw dropped when I saw how the sun accentuated the muscles on his chest. The grip on my pencil loosened, and it fell onto the sand. I fumbled to pick it up. It was then that I realized that I wasn’t wearing as many clothes as I had been the other times I’d seen him. I reached into my bag for my t- shirt.

“
Don’t be self-conscious. You look great.” He walked around my chair and stood in front of me.

I wasn’t sure what to do. My hands froze with the shirt in front of me. “I… I’m not alone.” His eyebrow arched. “I mean, my brother’s here with his friend.”

He looked around. “Where is Dillon?”

“No. My other brother, Bryan.”

“Oh. Can I sit with you until he comes back?” My insides were melting, but it wasn’t from the sun. He knelt at my feet. My heart was doing somersaults. An even tan colored his chiseled body. Baby fine hair covered his chin.

“What are you drawing?” He craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of my sketchpad.

“The parking lot.” I pointed toward the row of cars.

“Why not the ocean?”

“I’ve done that three times already.”

“Can I see?”

“They aren’t very good.” An array of thoughts splashed around inside my head, like: Why are you talking to me? Can I touch your awesome body? Can I see how soft your lips are? Why weren’t you at the park when you said you’d be there?
Now, now, Mandy. Maybe he had been at work, or maybe with his girlfriend.
Deciding to play his little game, even though I wasn’t good at being coy, I asked, “So, is this your day off?” Clever. Now he might tell me why he wasn’t at the park or the supermarket.

“Yeah. Sorry I wasn’t at the park
the other day. I switched to the night shift. It’s a little more money. When the deliveries come in at night, I unload the trucks. That way I can sleep late, and still do what I want during the day. I didn’t come in until three in the morning that night. By the time I woke up, I realized I didn’t have your number. I’m sorry. Hope you weren’t waiting there long.”

“Oh. Doesn’t your girlfriend mind when you work at night?”

He smiled. “I don’t have a girlfriend, right now.”

I felt so stupid, but happy at the same time.
He didn’t ask me if I had a boyfriend, but I guessed it was obvious.
Looking at him, I had to forgive him. I was emotionally weak in his presence.

“Do you come to the beach a lot?” he asked.

I fumbled with my pencil. Apparently, I was physically weak, too. “No. Bryan and my dad felt bad that I spend so much time by myself. They suggested I come to the beach to be with people.”

Rob looked around
, and I knew he was wondering where everyone else was.