Not Meant To Be Broken

A smile broke out on her thin face and she stepped aside, so I could look at the notice board as well. “Hi, I'm Olivia,” she said. She didn’t try to shake my hand or to make any attempt at physical contact and I liked her for it.

“I'm Amber,” I told her.

“Are you here for the eating disorder support group?” she asked, her expression hopeful.

I hesitated. I knew that I had neglected my body over the last three years and hadn't been in the sun for the same amount of time but did I look like I was trying to starve myself? From afar Olivia hadn't looked that thin but now that I was next to her, I saw that she was wearing a thick winter coat to hide her body. Her skinny hands peeked out from it, like the hands of a skeleton, fingers like spindly twigs. Her cheekbones were protruding and I could see her blue veins through the skin at her throat and hands. The shadows under her eyes were even worse than mine.

“Actually, I'm here for...” I hesitated, not able to voice it. I pointed my index finger at the name of the group.

Olivia's eyes followed my finger and they widened slightly. Her shoulders slumped. “Oh,” she mumbled. “I hoped you were in my support group. You seem nice and I really don't want to go and...I should probably stop rambling.” She let out an embarrassed laugh.

I gave her a smile. “I don't really want to go to this group either but...” I trailed off. A thought popped into my head and though I knew it wasn’t fair toward Brian or Dad, I couldn't shake it off. “Why don't we just sit somewhere and talk, only the two of us?”

“That sounds perfect. Our own personal support group,” she whispered. “I’d really like that. There's a park around the corner, but it’ll be getting dark soon.”

The woman behind the desk was watching us. She probably wondered why we hadn’t checked in yet. “Is there a coffee shop close by?”

“Yes, a Starbucks is a five minute walk away. I can lead the way.”

We walked in silence and finally settled in two seats in a corner of the shop. It was the most private spot we could find. I kept glancing at the other customers, worried someone would approach us. So far I’d managed not to bump into anyone. The number of people around us was more than I was used to, but I tried to ignore my anxiety. I’d ordered a Pumpkin Latte but Olivia only wanted a peppermint tea. “So who made you go to the support group?” I asked.

She sipped at her tea. “My mother. She’s worried about me. I had to move back in with her after I spent a few weeks in hospital. I missed a lot of classes.”

She talked about her problems without embarrassment. I wished I could do that.

“What about you?”

“Nobody really made me go, but my father and brother really want me to get better.”

“Better how?”

I took a spoonful of cream, letting it melt on my tongue and enjoying the burst of Pumpkin spice in my mouth. “I’m not good with people.”

“You’re good with me,” Olivia said, tugging her legs under herself, making herself even smaller. She was still wearing her coat. “I didn’t notice anything strange about you.”

I pondered that. She was right. I had followed her into the coffee shop without a single freak out. Okay, I’d checked how many men were sitting in the room, but that had been more of a passing thing. Being around Olivia was easy. “Sometimes I panic,” I said. I hoped she wouldn’t push the matter. I really didn’t want to elaborate any further.

She nodded as if she got it, then said. “Maybe we should establish ground rules. Topics that are off-limits.” She fiddled with the tea bag, but didn’t avoid my gaze. She hadn’t once averted her eyes from me. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from her. Despite her obvious differentness – I could at least hide my brokenness most of the time –, she didn’t try to hide.

“I’ll start. Off-limit: diet, food, college, weight, boyfriends, healthy living, my father.” Her brows drew together. “I’m pretty sure I forgot something.”

I cradled my cup. “I hate the question ‘what happened’. I don’t like to talk about the past.”

“That’s all?”

“It is.” So what now? “I moved to Boston less than a week ago.”

“It’s too late to start college,” she said, then rolled her eyes. “Okay. So college is only off-limits if it’s about me.”

I smiled. “I didn’t come to start college. At least, not right away. I moved in with my brother and his best friend.”

“That takes guts. My siblings and I fight all the time. I actually miss my roommate, even though she was a bitch.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“One sister, who’s two years younger, and a younger brother who’s thirteen.” Olivia spent the next hour recounting her life with her family. I loved listening to her and she obviously didn’t mind talking. A few minutes after the end of the support group meeting, we arrived back at the center. A hint of guilt filled me at the thought of having bailed on support group. I couldn’t tell Brian. He wouldn’t understand. I checked my mobile for a message from him. I’d written him ten minutes ago, but he hadn’t replied yet.

Zachary

I tried to block out the conversation but it was impossible. I plopped down on the couch and watched Brian pace the room, mobile pressed against his ear. This conversation had been going on forever. How hadn’t Brian lost his shit yet? If it had been Brittany who was bothered me like that, I would have hung up ten minutes ago.

“Lauren, I don't have time right now,” Brian said for the hundredth time and his voice had an edgy note to it. I smirked. I couldn't hear what she was saying in return but the rising of her voice told me that she was pissed – as usual.

“Lauren...” Brian, always the gentleman, tried to placate her. In vain of course. There was more screaming on the other end of the phone.

“I need to pick up my sister.”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes.

“I don't think it's a good idea if Zach picks her up,” Brian said, though he sounded as if he was going to give in.

“I can pick her up if you want.”

Lauren would keep bothering him until he went over to her. The woman was insistent and bothersome but Brian seemed to like her in some incomprehensible, twisted way. But I had no right to judge him. After all, I still had some kind of twisted affair with Brittany, the queen of all bitches.

“I’ll get her. Send her a message.” I shot him a smirk and grabbed my car keys before I left the apartment.

***

I hadn't thought about Amber's reaction when I'd agreed to pick her up. Shock crossed her face when I pulled up in the parking lot. She was talking with a girl that looked as if she was trying to starve herself. I got out of my car and walked toward them but stopped a few feet away.

Her dark brows drew together. “Hey Zack, what are you doing here?”

“I'm here to pick you up. Brian needed to deal with something.” With his bitchy on-and-off-girlfriend, I added in my head. I wasn't even sure if Amber knew about Lauren. Somehow I doubted Brian had told her.

She tried for a smile. “Oh okay. That's nice of you.” Tension leaked from her voice. What she scared of being in a car alone with me?

“That's Olivia,” she said with a nod toward the skinny girl.

Olivia smiled but didn't try to shake my hand; Amber must have met her in the support group. She glanced over to a red Lexus that stopped next to my jeep. “That’s my mother,” she said with a grimace. “I’ve got to go. See you soon, Amber?”

“Same place same time next week?” A look I couldn’t decipher passed between them, then Olivia slipped into her mother’s car and they drove off. Now it was only Amber and I. An awkward silence ensued.

“Ready to head home?” I asked, giving her my most encouraging smile to set her at ease. It seemed to work because she followed me toward my jeep. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of it and I couldn't help but grin. “That's huge,” she said in surprise. It was. My father gave the Hummer to me as a

gift for starting law school – a bribe, and the only form of love he knew. But I couldn’t tell Amber that.

“I'm not trying to compensate for anything here!” I said with a wink, and immediately wished someone would smash my fucking big mouth in.

Amber looked away.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I...” I rambled, then shut up before I could fuck up even worse.