The Year We Fell Apart (7 page)

“You know you don’t have to worry about that, though,” he suddenly says. “Your mom is going to beat this.”

The green and blue and red sparks of light start to swim together and I have to look away, so I settle on my mosquito bite.

“Oh, I know.” I nod, too quickly for it to be convincing, and push my thumbnail into the bite, making an
X
in my skin.

He shifts his weight. I keep nodding like a Harper bobblehead, digging my nail in harder. The
X
turns purple.

“Harp . . .”

My leg is bouncing, using up every ounce of space available to keep the panic inside, but the first tear slips out anyway. His hand touches the back of my head.

Distance between us. That’s what I need. Otherwise, the whole last year of avoiding Declan—of forcing myself to let him go—was pointless. Calls and texts I never returned, months of silence. He’s undoing it all. And after everything we’ve been through and everything I’ve done, I don’t deserve to find solace in him.

But I am selfish enough to take it.

My fingers connect with his shirt, turning into a fist around the fabric. He pulls me closer. My cheek rests against his shoulder and he smells the same, like citrus detergent and something spicy that is just Declan.

“Hey,
shh
 . . . it’s okay, Harp. You and me, we can get through this. I promise.”

How many times have we rested our foreheads together and said those words?
You and me.

It’s always been him and me. And I can’t deny how good it feels to have him here now. Only Declan understands this feeling of being tied to the rails, helpless against the train barreling toward you. Nothing I do will make any difference. I can’t change the outcome of my mom’s cancer any more than I can bring Natalie back from the dead.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says again.

Hearing it in his voice brings me so much closer to believing it.

The world continues to explode around us. And all I hear are the words of comfort he whispers into my hair.

ONE HOUR. I HAVE ONE
freaking hour left to finish my photography assignment by the time I make it to the river.

What are we even supposed to be taking pictures of out here? National Geographic’s website did not prepare me for this. Unless a sea otter miraculously makes its way upstream and strikes a pose for me, I’m completely screwed.

The river is already suffering from the recent lack of rain, and I halfheartedly take a few pictures of the lazy stream. A few yards up the bank, I spot a coiled black snake sunning itself. It doesn’t seem particularly photogenic, so I keep my distance.

Some of my classmates catch up to my spot. Gwen scans the area and lies flat on her stomach at the edge of the stream. Declan is across the water from her. He lowers his camera, standing with one hand in his front pocket and the other cupping the lens. The sun hits him at just the right angle to show the lightness in his hair, and I can’t resist taking a quick snapshot of his profile.

Five days have passed since we climbed up the water tower together, and aside from a brief and stilted conversation before Monday’s photography class, we haven’t spoken since.

Not that I expected that night to change anything. Not really. He was just being a good guy, being there for me when I needed him. Because that’s what we do for each other.

Or what he’s always done for me, anyway.

With a mental groan, I hike farther down the trail until I’m alone again. Mr. Harrison said not to pay attention to what anyone else was doing today. And anyway I only have . . . Jesus, forty minutes left.

A tree trunk splotched with bright pink and green lichen catches my attention. I take a close shot and move to another tree off the path. A heart is carved into the bark. Inside are the initials
MJ+TK
. All I can think is,
People actually do this?

They probably aren’t even together anymore. MJ probably broke TK’s heart. Or vice versa. But seeing it makes me realize how much I want to leave a mark like that behind when I’m gone. Proof that I made someone’s life better just by being in it.

After his mom passed, Declan used to go days without smiling. But sometimes I could coax one out of him, and it was the best feeling in the world, seeing him smile because of me.

But that was a long time ago.

Trailing my fingers on the rough bark, I move around the trunk and am surprised to find similar marks on the other side. This is a promiscuous sort of tree.

“Want to walk back with me?”

I jump at the sound of Gwen’s voice. “Is it time to go?” I check my phone.
Crap.

A sucker puffs out one of her cheeks. She wipes her forehead with the bandanna around her wrist and nods. Over her shoulder, I see Declan hopping from boulder to boulder to get back to our side of the river. Gwen notices me noticing.

She pulls the sucker out of her mouth with a pop and jerks her head toward him. “What’s the deal with you two?”

“You mean Declan?”

“No, you and Mr. Harrison.” She flashes a smile that vanishes just as quickly. “Seriously, though. Unfinished business?”

“We’re just . . . We used to be good friends.”

She stops to take a picture of a plastic water bottle nestled in a bed of wildflowers, then scoops it up. “Huh. I just thought there might be some history there.”

The camera strap is so hot around my neck. I shift it and wipe the sweat off my skin. Gwen and I both examine Declan, who is waiting for us up the trail.

First, ten years of friendship. The kind of friendship that means knowing everything there is to know about each other. Where every one of our scars is, and how we got them. The pitch of his laugh when he’s had a lot of sugar, or exactly what kind of coffee I need after a bad day. Friends who could spend twelve straight hours doing absolutely nothing and still want it to last twelve more. Who listen, even when the other is wrong; even when they’re not making sense. Friends who could be mad at the whole universe, but never angry with each other for long. Who love each other unconditionally.

Then, six months of everything. A spring of skipped heartbeats every time he called me his girlfriend, then a summer of learning what being part of someone really meant. Six months of discovering the sound his heart makes with my head against his chest, and the taste of his tongue after he eats something salty. Or how his breath catches when I kiss his throat, and the way it tickles when he traces my collarbone. Two seasons of feeling more connected to a person than I ever thought possible.

Then October up until now. Nine hollow months of being nothing at all.

“What about you?” I ask. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

She smiles. “Jason. He lives in Charleston.”

“Long distance, huh? That’s rough.”

“It’s not so bad. I have some family down there—my cousin was actually the one who introduced us. So I get to visit a few times a year, and he drives up on the weekends sometimes.”

Mackenzie skips right past us, all the way to Declan’s side. We catch up a moment later.

“That was so fun, wasn’t it? It’s, like, the perfect day for a photo shoot.” Mackenzie takes a snapshot of Gwen, who glares back at her. She turns to me next. “What are you up to this weekend?”

“Nothing really,” I say. “Just lying low.”

“What about you?” she asks Declan. “Any plans tonight?”

He nods to me. “Cory told me about a party off Route Two. That old campsite?”

Effing Cory. He almost never wants to come to parties. Suddenly he’s interested now that Declan is back?

Everyone from school will be there. Including Kyle. And probably a small handful of other guys I messed around with last year. These are two worlds I do not want colliding.

“That’s perfect! So, we’ll all go.” Mackenzie looks back and forth between us.

Gwen nudges her toe against my foot. “You in?”

Declan looks at me through his viewfinder and I shift my weight. The problem is, I already told Sadie I would go. Now I’m trapped. “Um . . . sure.”

“Yay!” Mackenzie actually claps her hands together and I can’t help but laugh. “First things first, I’m hungry. I think I want Thai food. Or maybe just a sandwich. Harper, are you coming to lunch?”

“Oh, I—”

“Yeah, she’s not going to take no for an answer,” Gwen says.

“You make me sound bossy or something.”

“Nooo.”
Gwen shakes her head at Mackenzie, then nods to me.

We all head back to the community center parking lot. Mackenzie and Declan are joined at the hip, nudging each other and whispering as they plan their evening. Gwen hangs back to walk beside me, and I resolutely stare at the bumpers of each car we pass. I barely even notice when Declan rubs his neck and glances over his shoulder at us.

When we reach his car, he taps Mackenzie’s arm and says something in her ear. She smiles and bounds over to her Datsun.

Declan leans against the trunk of his Focus and nods at us. “Bye, Gwen.”

“Later.”

I slow to a crawl. “You’re not coming to lunch?”

“I’m going to sit this round out. But I’ll see you tonight.”

“Awesome,” I say. Then I hate myself because I shouldn’t have said anything and now I sound all eager. “I mean, cool. See you later.”

Nope. Not an improvement
.

He gets in his car and I wave because apparently I’m just as incapable of keeping my hands still as I am of keeping my mouth shut.

Gwen eyes me, running her tongue over her top lip, looking like she’s trying really hard not to laugh.

“What?” I ask a little too defensively.

She shakes her head. “Let’s hit it. I’m starving.”

  *  *  *  

We decide on the Broad Street Deli for lunch. Mackenzie and Gwen pop in to use the bathroom, and I stay outside to guard our table. Less than a minute later, it’s already under attack.

“Hey, homewrecker.”

I glance up and scowl. Lindsay Sullivan. She crosses her arms and glares back. Behind her I spot Mel Hendrickson, wearing dark sunglasses and a sinister smile. And then I see Jenny.

I lick my lips. “Hi, Jen.”

She looks me in the eye. Which is the most direct contact we’ve had since it happened. Her face is beet red. She gathers her stuff and pulls Mel’s arm like she can’t get out of my breathing space fast enough.

“Guys, let’s go,” she says.

Lindsay ignores her. “Throw yourself at anyone’s boyfriend lately?”

A rusty pickup roars past, stirring the oppressive afternoon air. I wonder if pretending I didn’t hear her is a viable option.

Throw myself at.
See, that’s the kind of thing that gets me all worked up. Because Jake lied to me just as much as he lied to Jenny. And probably nothing would have even happened if Sadie hadn’t snuck off with his friend and totally sexiled me.

If she were here now, Sadie would know how to handle this. She’d stand up for me. And she certainly wouldn’t back down from the confrontation.

But she isn’t here. And I’m not her.

“I’m sorry,” I say in an inaudible whisper. Maybe Jenny can read lips. Apparently Lindsay can.

“Like an apology coming from a skank like you is worth anything.”

Through the café window I see Mackenzie and Gwen making their way back outside.
Shit.

“I’m leaving,” Jenny says in a firm voice. Mel is close on her heels. But Lindsay lingers.

This isn’t an argument I can have right now. It’s none of Lindsay’s business, anyway.

“Look, just tell Jenny I’m—”

With a flick of her bangle-wrapped wrist, Lindsay tosses the rest of her iced tea in my face.

“Slut,” she hisses, backing away just as Gwen comes through the door. “I hope you get chlamydia.”

Gwen rushes over in time to hear Lindsay’s closing statement. “What the hell was that?”

“Nothing. Just . . .” With a shaking hand, I tug at my soaked T-shirt. It’s stuck to me like a second skin.
“Fuck.”

Each inhale comes faster and louder than the one before. People are staring. Slowing down as they pass by like I’m a car accident they can’t help but watch. Blood rushes in my ears and I squeeze my eyes shut.

Mackenzie takes my hand and leads me inside to the restroom. We weave through the line in front of the counter and pass a dozen or so tables, but I focus on Mackenzie’s back the whole time, too mortified to meet anyone’s gaze. She locks the door once we’re all inside.

“Give me your shirt.”

I pull it over my head and sit down on the toilet. Try again to breathe normally.

Gwen crouches down next to me. “You okay?” She rips off a wad of toilet paper and hands it over.

The concerned crease between her brows pushes me over the edge. These girls aren’t supposed to know this about me. They’re supposed to be separate from my school life. So is Declan. But it’s all running together, and I can’t stand the look of sympathy she’s giving me now. I don’t deserve it.

“I hooked up with her boyfriend,” I blurt out. “Not the girl who threw the drink at me. The other girl, Jenny. They were on the swim team with me.”

Mackenzie finishes rinsing my shirt and turns on the hand dryer. I try to explain.

“I got into some trouble a couple months back. I was with him when I got caught. I didn’t even like him, but he told me they’d broken up.” I wince and wring the tissue between my hands. “And they hadn’t. Not yet, anyway.”

We’re quiet, listening to the buzz and whirring of the dryer.

“I really hate myself for doing that to her. I never meant to hurt anyone.”

The dryer shuts off and Mackenzie brings me my top. It’s still damp but less sticky than before. “We all have things we wish we could change,” she says.

I look up at her and the realization is a semi truck through my chest. Mackenzie is a girl who deserves Declan.

“And Mackenzie and I have your back,” Gwen adds.

“Thank you.” I pull my shirt on and no one says anything for a few beats. My skin feels both clammy and flushed. “Do you think . . . Could you guys just not tell Declan about this?”

They exchange a glance before Gwen jumps in.