A Shattered Moment (Fractured Lives 1)

twenty-two

Mac

I hadn’t slept as well as I hoped to, but I still woke Sunday morning feeling charged. I got ready to go with a purpose. I was finally ready to tackle something I had been putting off for too long. Grabbing a small box I had carefully packed with stuff that I felt no longer belonged to me, I headed out of the house.

It took less than five minutes to get to my destination. My heart clenched as I pulled in front of the familiar house. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my cane, along with the small box, and made my way up the slightly sloped driveway.

Wiping my sweaty palm on my jeans, I knocked, but was unprepared when the door opened so quickly. I nearly choked on my own breath as I stood face to face with Zach’s mom, Janet.

“Mackenzie,” Janet gasped, dragging me into her arms for a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered in my ear, hugging me tighter. The plastic box in my arms dug into my side, but I paid no attention as I returned her hug.

“Come in.” She stepped back, holding the door open. I entered the house, immediately noticing the changes. The interior looked completely different from the remodeling. The thick carpet had been pulled up and replaced with smooth hardwood floors for easy maneuvering. Walls had been knocked down, opening up the house into one large open space where everything was easily accessible. Stepping farther into the room, I noticed that the family room now flowed into the kitchen and dining room. It felt larger and more spacious. I would have expressed my approval over the changes if not for the circumstances surrounding them.

Janet led me into the family room, where the other occupant I had expected to see was sitting. My heart dropped to my knees. He looked exactly the same with the exception of the wheelchair. “Zach, look who came to see you,” Janet chirped as Zach turned to stare at me with the same animosity that had been there a year and a half ago.

• • •

june 2013

I’m not sure what I had been expecting when I went to Zach’s room. I knew he’d been broken up from the accident like me, and yet, I’d still expected him to look the same. Maybe that was some kind of coping mechanism in my head. Nothing about the person propped up on the hospital bed in front of me resembled the Zach I had known for the past fifteen years. His face, unlike mine, was blemish free from the accident, but he no longer wore the same carefree welcoming expression I was used to. He looked angry and bitter.

He didn’t look at Mom and me as we entered. His eyes remained fixated on the television even though the sound was turned all the way down. I looked at Janet, who sat in the corner, with confusion. She shook her head slightly before standing to approach Zach.

“Sweetheart, Livia and I are going to get a cup of coffee.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Do you need anything?” He didn’t acknowledge her, and she didn’t seem surprised. His eyes never left the TV.

Mom and Janet left, closing the door behind them. I placed my hands on the wheels of my chair, maneuvering myself as close to his bed as my broken legs would allow. I focused on his face rather than his legs, which lay motionless in casts. I wanted to smooth my hand across his forehead to erase the harsh lines, but he was out of reach, so I did the next best thing and grasped his hand. His fingers remained slack like a corpse.

“Zach, I’m glad you’re going to be okay. I was so scared.” The words poured out of me in a rush. I’d missed my friends. The last ten days had been the longest any of us had ever spent apart.

Zach finally pulled his eyes away from the television. He looked at me incredulously. “Okay? Okay? Did you miss my prognosis? Crippled. I’m fucking crippled. I’ll never throw a football again. Hell, I’ll never fucking walk again, and you’re glad I’m going to be okay.” His words were like shards of glass, slicing through my soul. He ripped my heart out with razor-sharp teeth, shredding it until it was a bloody pulp. “And what about Tracey? Are you glad about her, too?”

Bile rose in my throat. I clenched my fist, wanting to lash out at him. Make him suffer in the same way that his words were hurting me. My eyes blazed as I jerked my hand from his. Tears streamed down his cheeks, taking the wind from my sails. Nothing I could say would cause him any more pain than what he was already feeling.

In spite of his harsh words, I wanted to weep with him. I wanted to rant at whoever was cosmically responsible for all of this, but I did neither. My friends and I didn’t deserve this.

“Zach, what can I do?” My voice was thick with unshed tears that refused to come. I didn’t know what to do to comfort him. I was an emotionless shell.

“Nothing.” His hands clenched into fists. “Nobody can do anything. My life is over.”

“Zach, it’s not over. I know it feels like it is, but it’s not. We’re going to get through this. I’m going to help you.”

“I don’t want your help.” His voice rose several decibels. As he swiped the tears from his eyes, I saw nothing but hopelessness in them.

“You just need time,” I pleaded.

“Get out,” he bellowed, reaching for the call button on his bed.

I couldn’t respond. Zach never lost his cool. He never held a grudge, and he definitely never raised his voice. His face was a distorted mask of rage as he continued to bellow at me. I tried to reach for him, but he shoved me away.

“GET OUT!” He picked up the glass on his table, threatening to throw it at me.

I was genuinely scared and tried to back my chair away from his bed, bumping into everything in the process. I cursed my plaster-encased legs. I wanted to flee, but I was trapped. Held hostage again by circumstances out of my control.

Zach refused to see me after that. For an entire month I went to his room every day, hoping he would change his mind. Eventually, the constant rejection was too much, and I stopped trying. Just like I had stopped sending e-mails to Kat since she never responded. Only three of my friends had died in that tragic accident, and yet, I had lost all of them; the Brat Pack was no more.

• • •

I sat uncomfortably in a chair across from Zach, my hands fidgeting nervously in my lap. “I’ve spent a lot of time over the past year and a half thinking about what I wanted to say. I know our relationship back then never reached the level you wanted it to. Maybe I was just naïve, but I thought you could handle it. I thought we could handle it. The worst part about finding out about you and Tracey was that you kept it hidden from me.”