A Shattered Heart (Fractured Lives 2)

I was busy after class adding his newest work to the portfolio I'd brought for him, when a knock sounded on my door before it was pushed open. I'd been expecting it to be Darcie or perhaps her father, but it was Brian who filled the doorway. I nearly groaned. I was hoping after our initial pleasantries on Monday that Brian would return to his own life and forget about trying to bridge the gap in our former friendship.

"How was your first week?" he asked, entering the room and sitting on one of the chairs that hadn't gotten pushed in.

I was tempted to try out the rudeness I tried on Darcie. Maybe if I shut down his attempts at friendship he'd eventually get the hint. "It was fine," I finally clipped out in a voice that was so bitchy I should have won an award.

Brian's response was an arching of one of his eyebrows, but he didn't comment. Instead he watched me as I packed up my bag and finished righting my room for the weekend.

Feeling awkward, I hit the light switch when I was done and waited for him to rise from his seat and leave, but he remained where he was as if he had no intention of going anywhere. "I guess I'll see you next week," I said, though I hoped I wouldn't.

"How's Darcie?" he asked.

I paused in the doorway, flushing with embarrassment and anger. Had Darcie ran to him and tattled on me? It wouldn't surprise me at all. "Why?" My voice was acid. If it was in liquid form, it would have melted my lips. "What did she tell you?" I asked when he didn't answer right away.

Brian crossed his right foot over his left and sat back in his seat as if we were having a casual conversation. "She didn't say anything. I was in the supply room yesterday getting some gear when I heard a thump against the wall. I'm guessing that was her head."

"If I'm lucky it was."

It was meant as a joke. A way to dispel the serious way he was looking at me. I didn't get his intensity. He was a kid. This adult routine from him felt wrong.

"What happened to you, Kat?" he asked, standing up, all pretenses of casualness gone.

I gaped at him. Did he seriously just ask me what happened to me? The rage was there. It was always there, but his words had the effect of throwing oil on a fire to put it out. The flames of anger spread through me with an ease of familiarity. Anger was a friend. A beloved friend.

"You're kidding right?" I asked harshly, leaving the room without another word. I stalked out of the Y, not bothering to clock out and barely noticing Darcie in the front office when I walked by.

My anger carried me through the lot. This job wasn't working out. Brian and Darcie had made that clear. I almost made it to my car when I heard Brian's voice behind me.

"Kat, wait," he said, reaching for my arm.

I jerked free, glaring at him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that. I don't want you to be mad at me," he pleaded. "I just want us to be friends. Being with you is almost like having him here."

His words were a quick, sharp jab to my lungs. I gasped as air left them in a rush, punctured by his words. Dan was dead. Gone. I was a reminder of one thing—his death.

I fumbled for the door handle wanting to escape.

Brian held me in place. "Please."

His plea was my undoing. It was a common joke back before our whole world had flipped upside down that Brian was incapable of saying please once he hit middle school. His mom had tried everything to get him to use it more often, from tough love to bribery. Eventually, it was Dan who got through to him. He'd told him that please was a powerful word. That using it too often would make it lose some of its appeal, but that there were certain times that the recipient would need to hear it. Hearing it now, raw and filled with emotion, blanketed my anger.

"I don't like to talk about him or the others," I warned him.

"Okay," he said, still holding my arm.

"And I'm not ready to see your parents."

"Okay."

"We can talk about football and all that crap but no music," I said, laying it all out there.

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"Okay."

I eyed him warily, wondering if he was capable of honoring my rules.