The Year We Fell Apart (13 page)

What the hell just happened?

Cory climbs up the boulder and nudges my arm. “Count of three,” he says.

Nothing. Nothing happened. My imagination was running wild, and I let it get the best of me. Let myself slip back into that dangerous pocket of my memory.

I tie my hair into a ponytail and shove Cory back. “One.”

“Two.” He takes his stance. “Three!”

His dive is longer than mine. I keep a fairly close distance all the way across the quarry, but I know I’m going to lose before we even turn around.

Cory smacks his hand against the boulder. “Oh man, I smoked you.”

“I don’t know if you’ve gotten faster, but man, I am out of shape.”

“Whose fault is that, Captain?”

I dip my chin under water to hide my flinch. “Thanks.”

“Oh, come on, you know I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know.” I keep treading water as he pulls himself onto the rocks. “No big deal.”

The girls get out of the water then too. I spend a few more minutes floating on my back, staring up at the sky until it’s impossible to tell whether the clouds are moving or I am. Then Cory calls my name.

“Food is ready,” he says when I swim back to the edge.

I climb out and hug my towel around my shoulders, then make my way over to the picnic table next to the fire pit.

“Admittedly, he was a rather poor choice,” Mackenzie says.

“Epic understatement. Mack, that guy was a total and complete bastard.”

“Hindsight!”

Gwen makes room for me at the end of the bench.

“What are we talking about?” I ask.

“Mack’s ex-boyfriend. A.k.a. the Douchenozzle.”

“I see.”

Mackenzie elaborates. “He broke up with me approximately five minutes after we slept together for the first time. Via text message.”

“Whoa.”

Gwen holds her palms up. “Right?”

Mackenzie sighs. “I’m over it. Mostly. Anyway, lesson learned. Better to be friends with a guy first.”

“Yeah.” I pull my towel tighter over my shoulders. “That’s probably true.”

“Ready to eat?” Cory calls out.

The boys come over with grilled hot dogs and start passing them around. My stomach is too upset to really eat, so I opt for some of the baby carrots in the middle of the table. Cory takes the seat next to Mackenzie, which leaves only one spot open.

Declan drops his plate across from me and slides onto the bench. I finish my carrot and twist the chain of my necklace around my finger.

He’s staring again. Only this time he looks . . . crushed. At first, I think it’s the necklace. That he’s remembering his last night in town, when he gave it to me. Remembering what the infinity pendant is supposed to mean. But it’s the side of my neck he’s focused on, and suddenly I know exactly what he sees.

My hand flies up to my jawline, covering the evidence. Declan’s eyes snap to mine, then down at his food.

“Holy shit, girl.” Gwen yanks my hand away. “Can’t use the curling-iron excuse for that one, can you?”

Mortification simmers beneath my skin, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never blushed this hard before. Even when it was just going to be Cory and me today, I’d been so careful to cover the hickey up. The makeup must have washed off in the water.

Declan picks a potato chip up off his plate, holding it in midair for a moment before dropping it again. Mackenzie glances at him and the moment becomes infinitely more painful. She leans forward and smiles sweetly at me.

“I heard you have a new boyfriend,” she says. “Kyle, right?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, well, you should invite him to hang out next time! We could do a group thing!”

“Um, sure. Maybe.”

Declan pushes his plate away and moves over to the quarry. Mackenzie winces before excusing herself and following him. Cory tucks back into his food.

Gwen shifts toward me, bringing her foot up to the bench. “I’m really sorry; I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It just . . . came out.”

“No, it’s okay,” I say. The damage was already done.

Declan is standing with his arms crossed, looking at the water. Mackenzie puts her hand on his shoulder, and his arms unfold. He nods, and his hand finds its way to the small of her back.

I look away. That touch belongs to them.

SINCE CORY PRETTY MUCH DECIMATED
the last of our food supply the other day and our house has a particularly claustrophobic vibe this morning, I volunteer for errand duty, starting with a list of post-chemo fare we’re running low on. Mom has another round of treatment coming up in a few days, and we want to be fully stocked.

I drop off her newest prescription at the pharmacy counter and gather some groceries while I wait for them to fill it. Once I collect her favorites—ginger ale, ginger tea, and ginger snaps—I get in line to check out. Right when I go to pay, I catch a glimpse of Jenny walking into the drugstore with her mother. Just what today needs.

I dip my head and hand the woman at the register a twenty.

Go talk to her.

But I can’t, not when she’s standing with her mom. That would be beyond uncomfortable. What I need to do is get out of here without her seeing me. I’ll try again a different day, I tell myself. Just like I’ve been telling myself ever since it happened.

It’s not like she makes it easy for me. Technically she wasn’t a part of the confrontation that last day with the swim team, when I went to get my things out of my locker. But she didn’t put a stop to it either.

I tried to sneak in after practice had started, but they were all waiting for me, blocking my path. They knew if they yelled, they’d get caught. So they were eerily silent, allowing the looks on their faces to do the shouting. I had to push my way in, all of them throwing their shoulders at me and shoving me around like a rag doll. Then, when I got close, they all cleared away. They wanted to watch my reaction when I saw it, the four-letter word scrawled across my locker in bright red lipstick.

My hands were shaking so hard, it took three tries before I got my combination right. When the door finally swung open, they all went back to their own business and I gathered my things as quickly as possible. When I slammed it shut and turned to leave, I saw Jenny standing in the corner. She wasn’t glaring at me. She didn’t lay a finger on me. She just opened the door for me and I was free to go.

Only I wasn’t really free. Because I never really left that room behind. We carry our past with us everywhere we go.

Stupid, anyway. What am I supposed to say to Jenny? What could I possibly tell her about that night that would make up for what I did?
I swear, Jenny, it isn’t my fault I took so many shots that it became impossible to tell your boyfriend’s lies from the truth! Now, how about we forgive and forget?

Right.

God, why is this woman taking so long to count my change? My foot taps out syncopated beats and I am this close to telling her to keep it and bolting out the door when finally, she hands me back a few bills.

“Thanks.” I grab my bag and take one last peek at Jenny. Her head snaps up and I spin around, hopefully before she recognizes me.

Once I’m safe inside my car, I turn the music up loud. Louder. Loud enough that I can’t hear my own breathing.

  *  *  *  

It’s already late afternoon by the time I get home and finish unpacking the groceries. The sky is turning grayer by the minute, and the wind picks up as I climb onto the roof to treat myself to the cigarette I’ve been craving. The first clap of thunder sounds in the distance and I shiver despite the heat clinging to the shingles beneath me.

I stub out my cigarette and immediately detect the scent of a different kind of smoke. One that I’ve smelled every day for the last week. The first time, I went straight to my window and looked out at the backyard. I figured if Graham was smoking pot that blatantly, I was going to have to call him out for being a complete dumbass. Only, it wasn’t Graham. The wafts of pot-laced air came from Mom’s bathroom window. Blowing right back into the house through mine.

That first time, I burst out laughing. My mother, Miss Proper, a total stoner. She probably thought she was being so stealth about it too.

Then I took two seconds to think about why she was smoking and it stopped being funny.

Now, a text from Kyle pulls me back in through my window.
You up for a party at Cat’s?

I’m not sure I have it in me to put on a happy face for Cat or anyone else. But knowing Kyle, he’ll have a bottle of the antidote ready and waiting. And there’s no way I can stay cooped up in this house all night, so I tell him yes. But when I go downstairs, I’m intercepted.

“Harper! Come sit down and have dinner with us.”

My dad carries a plate of barbecued chicken in from the back patio. He slides the screen door shut behind him while Graham pulls cornbread from the oven.

“Actually, I was just on my way out.”

“Nonsense. I’ve barely seen you all week.”

I put my purse on the counter and slump into a chair. “I can stay for, like, ten minutes, but then I have to go.”

Dad serves up the chicken and I help myself to some salad, skipping the cornbread. He takes his seat and skewers his first bite.

“I don’t want you going out tonight,” he says without even looking up from his plate.

I put my fork down and cross my arms. “Why not?”

“Because,” he says, “school starts soon. You need to get back into a regular sleep pattern. And it won’t kill you to stay in for one night with your family.”

I roll my eyes and shoot a look at Graham like,
Can you believe this?
Graham just raises his eyebrows and busies himself with his dinner.

Thanks for having my back.

“Okay, well, I already made plans, and it’s still summer and Friday night, and it’s not like anything will be going on here anyway.”

Dad’s hands pause over his plate, and I watch his mustache curve as he frowns. Finally, he looks up at me. “Be home by eleven.”

I stab a piece of lettuce and mouth,
Fine
.

“Did you pick up that prescription I asked you to get today?”

Sitting up a little bit straighter, I chew the lettuce slowly.
Shit
. I knew I forgot something at the store.

“Um, no, I dropped it off but they were busy and then . . . I forgot. I’ll get it first thing in the morning.”

Dad puts down his knife and fork and tilts his head back. “Come on, Harper. I asked you to do this one thing.”

“I know; I’m sorry.” I twist my fork into the chicken breast, tearing the meat off the bone.

“Your mother might need those meds tonight. You’ve got to work on being more responsible, you can’t just—”

“I know. I said I was sorry.” I throw my fork down onto the table. “I’ll go right now.”

Pushing my chair back, I grab my purse and car keys off the counter and storm out to the driveway, hesitating once I reach my car. I kick my tire and spin around to sit on the hood, dragging the keys down my leg.

My dad calls after me, but it’s Graham who walks out the front door a few seconds later. He stands on the porch for a moment before strolling over to me.

“I figured you could use some company.” He holds out his hand for the keys, automatically expecting to drive just because he’s older.

Wordlessly, I get behind the wheel. Graham retreats to the passenger side and we drive to the drugstore in silence. Well, silent not counting the series of sighs Graham exhales.

“Why don’t you just say whatever it is you want to say?” I ask when I’m one sigh away from steering us into a tree.

“I know all of this hasn’t been easy on you, Harper. But do you think it’s been easy on any of us? On Dad?” He stares me down and I hate him. Hate that he thinks he has any right to lecture me. “None of us asked for this. And it isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend my summer either. But you don’t see me acting like a total brat.”

My teeth grind together. “No, instead you act like everything at home is normal.”

“Excuse me?”

“All of you, even Mom—you keep pretending like the cancer is just some blip in our regularly scheduled programming, like she’s just going to get through it, no questions asked. So yeah, maybe I do think it’s been a little bit easier on you, because you’ve been faking a happy family this whole time.”

Graham shakes his head. “You know, that’s an awfully bold statement coming from someone who has barely been home for the past three weeks. You’re crazy if you think the rest of us aren’t freaked out. You’d rather hit the self-destruct button and party with your friends than spend time with Mom? Fine. But you are in no position to judge the rest of us for how we’re coping.”

Heat sparks inside of me, a potent mixture of fury and shame. I grip the wheel tighter and ignore the way my knuckles throb. “You done?”

He shuts up and I pull into a spot outside the drugstore, and I go inside to get Mom’s prescription. When I get back to the car I find him waiting in the driver’s seat. Jackass.

“Seriously?”

He shrugs behind the window. I scowl and go around, then toss the keys at Graham. He doesn’t start the car.

“Harper, I meant what I said before. . . .”

“About me being a brat? Got it the first time. Loud and clear.”

He gives me a hard look. “That I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

“I told you, I’m fine. Can we please just go?”

The first drop of rain falls on the windshield. The storm clouds have taken the sky hostage, and the downpour finally starts when we’re halfway home. We pull into the neighborhood the back way, which goes right past Declan’s house. Through the sheet of rain, I study his driveway, where we made entire worlds out of colored sidewalk chalk. The basketball hoop above the garage door doesn’t have a net anymore. There must be a thousand other changes I haven’t noticed.

And then I do notice another difference in the landscape—a red Datsun parked at the curb. The only light in the house is coming from Declan’s second-story bedroom. My chest constricts and my throat burns and then we’re past his street and I force myself to think about Kyle instead.