Chelsea Fine - Best Kind of Broken

I inhale deeply, feeling my lungs burn with emotion as I think about the Fourth of July Bash last summer.

Charity was tossing her head back, laughing up at the night. She was standing in the bed of Levi’s truck, dancing to the radio and promising to see fireworks in Paris someday. She was alive.

The burning expands.

Levi was shaking his head with a smile, his eyes meeting mine every few seconds. He was going somewhere. Successful. Brave. Happy.

I was happy…

Thunder rumbles from afar, and my gaze drifts to the side, locking on to a pair of blue eyes that look just as haunted as I feel.

Levi is standing with a group of his old buddies, playing cornhole just a few yards away. And he’s staring at me.

God, it hurts to look at him. To share the pain. But it hurts to bear it alone too. After Charity… it was like we toppled over a cliff, with nothing to catch us. Nothing to cling to.

And we’re still falling.

“Remember how I said we need new friends?” Jenna plops down beside me on the rock, and my gaze is broken. “Well, we should have acted faster because that was Jack on the phone, and the boy is losing his mind because he lost Ethan.”

“Does that mean you need to go?”

She makes an apologetic face. “Sort of.”

I shrug. “Then go.”

“Come with me.”

“No way.” I smile. “I don’t do Jack drama. Or Ethan drama. I don’t do boy drama, period.”

“You’re so wise.” She sighs, then scrunches her nose. “But if I leave, how will you get home?”

Jenna drove me out here tonight because, apparently, the whole wide world is afraid that if I drive myself anywhere I might instantly combust or something.

“No worries,” I say, and quickly send Ellen a text asking if she’ll pick me up later. She responds with an immediate yes. “See?” I smile at Jenna. “Problem solved. Now go attend to your damsel in distress.”

“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes. “That’s so what Jack is. An overgrown damsel with a penis. I swear to God, if he wasn’t so ridiculously hot I would—I would—”

“Still want to screw his brains out?”

She makes a face. “Probably.” She gathers her stuff, then hesitates. “Are you sure you’re okay if I leave?”

“I’ll take care of her,” Daren says, interrupting our conversation as he walks over and throws a lazy arm around my shoulder.

Jenna looks at him with sharp eyes. “And why would I trust you?”

“Uh… why wouldn’t you?” he says.

“Because you’re a random kisser.”

“I’m a—I’m a what?” He laughs.

“A random kisser,” she says, overenunciating each word. “You randomly kiss girls without permission.”

“Aw…” He cocks his head. “You sound jealous. Would you like me to randomly kiss you? I mean, we haven’t really met, but I feel like we could have some serious chemistry here. And I’m not above kissing complete strangers.”

She juts her jaw at him, then looks at me. “Is this guy for real?”

“He’s harmless,” I say as I casually remove Daren’s arm. “And it’s not like I need a babysitter.” God. It’s like I’m twelve years old again. “I’ll be fine. Just go.”

She looks unsure.

“Go,” I urge her, flicking my hand. “Before Ethan winds up in jail or another country.”

She kisses my cheek. “Okay. Love ya.”

As she walks away, I call out, “Tell Jack Hammer I say hi and that I’m totally on board with naming your baby Taylor.”

“Not funny,” she sings at me as she walks away.

I sing back, “Very funny.”

“Come on,” Daren says, gently cupping my elbow and turning me around. “You’re missing all the fun.”

I look at him as we walk back down the beach. “Are you okay? You seem… down.”

“Who, me?” He scoffs. “The only thing I’m down about is the fact that I don’t have a cold beer in my hand right now. A dilemma I will quickly rectify.” He grins at me, but even in the darkness I can tell his expression is strained.

“Okay.” I don’t want to push it. And even if I did, Daren isn’t the type to just spill his guts to someone. Especially not to a girl.

We walk in silence toward a large bonfire. Music playing from some unidentified source grows louder as we near, as does the laughter of all the partygoers. I wonder where Levi is—if he’s still here, if he wishes he were somewhere else.

When we reach the group, Daren says, “All right. I’m off to get my drink on. Try to stay out of trouble, would you?” He winks.

I shake my head. “You need a babysitter.”

“Ah, what a fantastically sexy idea. I’ll go look for one.” He smiles, then disappears into the sea of people dancing in the firelight.

I stay beside the giant bonfire, where I can no longer see the stars in the purple sky. Or Levi.

A flash of lightning in the distance is all I need to see to know we’re headed for a monsoon, but the clouds have yet to burst, so the jovial atmosphere is still in full swing.

I watch Zack win another round of cornhole and move on to his next opponent with a hoot of victory. He whispers something into the ear of Sierra Umbridge, and I almost roll my eyes.

Zack wasted no time finding a girl to entertain him tonight. He also wasted no time meeting my high school English teacher, the town mayor, and the guy who drives the fireworks in from Phoenix every year—who goes by “Buck,” apparently. Buck owns twenty-eight guns, a tabby cat named Priscilla, and has tentative plans to visit Miami next summer.

Sometimes I think Zack’s goal in life is to meet every person on the planet.

“You want a beer, man?” Sam asks.

I shake my head and nod at the can of soda in my hand. “I’m driving.”

“You sure? If you don’t like this kind, I think Richards has a different case in his car.”

“Nah, I’m good. Really,” I add when Sam looks unsure.

He finally shrugs and walks off to finish his own beer.

I can’t figure out why the hell everyone is being so chatty with me tonight. You’d think they hadn’t seen me in years, rather than months. Davis is retelling football stories from high school, all my great highlights; Richards has been asking me retarded questions about my job; and Sam has been offering me food and beer all night.

What the hell is going on?

Richards, who is plastered as always, keeps glancing over at me in between dirty jokes and glory stories, and I figure if anyone will break down, it’ll be him. I walk up beside him and stand there for a minute, waiting until the silence between us gets too awkward for him to ignore.

“Hey,” he says, taking a gulp of beer.

“Hey.”

“So… I know I never said this before,” he begins. “I’m a real jackass, I know, but… I’m sorry, man. About Charity.”

I nod, dumbfounded. “Uh, thanks. That’s… random.”

He shrugs. “Well, I saw Sarah’s scar today—”

“Holy shit! You saw it too?” Sam butts in, drunk. “It was wicked. Shame too. She’s got this kick-ass little body, and then bam, there’s a gnarly gash cutting right between her tits.”

My heart drops to the dirt.

“You guys talking about Sarah?” Davis leans in and shakes his head. “I couldn’t believe it.”

“Me neither,” some guy I’ve never seen before says.

I clutch my soda so tight the can starts to crinkle. “When did you guys see all this?”

“Today, man,” Sam says. “She was prancing around in that pink bikini, all proud. Just putting her marred skin on display and looking people in the eye and shit.” He shudders. “Unsettling as hell.”

I struggle to keep a straight face as I look around at my uncomfortable friends. Is that why everyone has been bat-shit crazy around me tonight? Because Pixie marched Charity’s memory around the lake today?

I almost laugh out loud. I could kiss her for that—for being brave and obstinate and proud. She’s amazing. I wish I could have seen that—

My stomach falls, joining my heart in the sand, as I realize why I didn’t see that. Pixie was acting weird earlier today because she was hiding her scar from me.

She was hiding her scar. From me.

I throw my soda away.

I’m halfway across the beach before I realize I’m headed to Pixie. My fists are clenched, and the sour feeling in my gut is sloshing with every step I take.

I find her standing with a group of her high school friends. Not smiling, but participating as the pink straps of her swimsuit peek out from the dress thingy she’s thrown on.

Her eyes catch sight of me as I near, and she watches me like she knows I’m coming for her.

“We need to talk,” I say when I’m within earshot, a low tremor in my voice.

She pulls out of the group and steps to the side as I trudge away from the fires and music and drunk people. I see her shadow following after me as I move into the darkness by the cliffs, just as the first of the opening fireworks spark to life in the sky. Cheers and clapping echo behind us as we travel deeper into the shadows.

When we reach a secluded place, I turn to her, and for a moment we just stare at each other. More fireworks shoot into the sky, lighting up her face as she waits.

I’m suddenly scared stupid to talk about this.

“Let me see it,” I say, my voice coming out a bit unsteady.

She crosses her arms over her chest and doesn’t pretend not to know what I’m talking about. “No.”

I blink, not quite sure how to respond to that. “So what, then? You’re just going to hide it from me for the rest of your life?”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to strip down for you right here so you can see just how torn up my skin is.”

“But you’ll let the whole town see?”

“Would you rather I hole up like an ashamed hermit?”

“No! Of course not. That’s not—” I purse my lips. “You know that’s not what I meant. I just… I just don’t want you to hide your scar because you’re trying to shield me from reality. I don’t need you to protect me.”

Her eyes narrow. “You can’t even handle seeing me in a towel.”

“That’s my problem, Pixie. Not yours.”

“Like hell!” She uncrosses her arms. “How is that not my problem? You looked like you were going to throw up the other day—and that was after seeing only the tip of the scar.”

“That’s because I’d never seen it before.”

“Well, maybe if you’d bothered to come visit me in the hospital while I was fighting for my life, you could have checked out all the gore firsthand and wouldn’t feel so left out right now.” Her eyes widen a bit, like maybe she didn’t mean to say that out loud, but it’s too late.

Her words sink into me like iron stakes, driving deep and wedging anger and regret between my lungs. I take a step forward. “I didn’t come visit you in the hospital because I’d almost killed you. I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“Well, that wasn’t your call to make.”

“I was trying to be respectful.”

She juts her jaw. “Is that why you abandoned me too? Out of respect?”

“Abandoned you? What are you talking about?”

“You left me, Levi. Charity died and you just disappeared, like I was nothing more than an accessory to your past. I lost Charity, and then I lost YOU. Did you ever stop to think about how alone I was back here in reality while you were off at frat parties and throwing footballs?”

Fireworks pop in the sky, orange and blue flashes filtering down on her cheeks as I stand, wordless.

She shrugs angrily. “Did you ever think for one minute that I might have needed someone to be here for me to mourn with? Or were you too busy thinking about your own pain? Because I lost her too, you know. I lost Charity and your parents and your home—just like you—but I didn’t get to run away. I had to stay in this godforsaken town and listen to people pretend Charity never existed while I healed enough to get out of this place and start college. You didn’t think about me or look back, and that hurt, Levi. It hurt so much and…” Her features twist in pain, and she shakes her head. “You know what? Forget it. It doesn’t matter anymore.” With a wave of her hand, she spins on her heel and walks away from me as more colors fall from the sky.