A Shattered Moment (Fractured Lives 1)

Mac was already at the library when I showed up on Monday. I took it as good sign that she smiled at me and removed her backpack from the chair next to her. Saving me a seat was definitely a positive sign.

“Hey,” I greeted her, plopping down in the empty seat.

“Hey,” she answered, looking right at me. “How was your weekend?” she asked, twisting the lid off her water.

“Not bad. You know, the work thing. How about you?”

“It was boring as hell.”

I chuckled. “That’s too bad. If I didn’t have to work, we could have done something.”

“Do you work every weekend?” I was totally digging the new eye contact thing. Obviously, Friday night had helped her open up. Now, if I could coax her to move beyond the “friends” thing.

“For the most part. I tried working shifts during the week, but it screwed up my school schedule completely. Staying up half the night going out on calls and then trying to get to class the next day was too hard. Especially when I fell asleep in class. Turns out college professors don’t take too kindly to that.”

“Very true.” Her eyes twinkled with humor, and it was all I could do not to stand up and tell her how gorgeous she was. “What high school did you attend?”

My thoughts were still on her eyes, and it took me a moment to switch gears. “Uh, Mainland. Class of 2011.”

“That’s a nice school. I had a project there

for the Volusia County Literacy Fair when I was a freshman in high school.”

“Yeah. It’s not where I was zoned for, but we got it switched because they had the Science and Medical Career Academy.”

“So, you knew even before high school that you wanted to be an EMT?” she asked, chewing on the end of her pen.

“My ultimate goal was to become a paramedic, but I’m not sure if I have what it takes.” I couldn’t believe I’d voiced the thought. I hadn’t admitted that to anyone, not even my parents. Being a paramedic had been my only career choice for so long, it freaked me out that all my hard work would go to waste if I changed my mind.

“How can you say that? You’re great at what you do. You help people more than you might realize.”

I ran my hand through my hair, trying to better articulate what I meant. “I know we help people. I’m just saying it’s tougher than I thought it would be. Going in, I assumed I’d be making a difference. The bitch of it is—I’m not. Or not as much as I thought I would be.” I was thinking specifically of the domestic violence call from last week. Despite our training, Steve and I had been powerless to help. We didn’t even get the chance.

“Sometimes it may not seem like you’re helping, but in reality, you’re the difference between darkness and light,” she said quietly. “You were for me.” She lowered her head, studying the screen of her phone.

I mulled over her words. I would have expected her of all people to hold a grudge against first responders, considering the way things worked out with her and her friends.

We both sort of sat there silently for a few minutes, digesting the confessions each of us had admitted. I finally piped in, asking her if she’d like to get some dinner. At first I thought she was going to turn me down by the way she started to shake her head. She shocked me by suddenly agreeing.

Triumphantly, I helped her to her feet and shouldered both our backpacks. As I followed her out of the library, I couldn’t help sneaking a few looks at her trim backside. I knew from carrying her up the stairs on Friday that she couldn’t have weighed more than a buck-five, if that, but she had the right curves. Something about her made me want to go all caveman and keep her from harm. She’d probably assume it was because of her limp and take it as an insult if I told her. Mom claims I’ve been that way since I was a kid. She said it was in my DNA that I inherited from Dad’s side of the family. They were always protective of the ones they loved. If Mac heard that shit, she’d really go running for the hills. I wouldn’t have blamed her.

“Is there anything you don’t like to eat?” I asked as she climbed into my car.

“Just seafood.”

“Really? All seafood?” That still left lots of options. There were plenty of places to eat around the school, but they were always crowded and loud. I wanted to be able to talk to her without shouting over everyone.

“Yep, all of it. Especially lobster. The idea of cracking their shells open and devouring their bodies seriously creeps me out. Shrimp are the same way, and clams are just yuck. And don’t even get me started on any fish that is served with its head still on.”

I laughed at her description. “So, are you a vegan?”

“Vegan?” She laughed. “Heck no. I’m just not a fan of watching my food being boiled to death. I know it sounds funny, but as long as my food’s not looking at me, I’m good to go.”

“You do realize chicken, beef, and pork are all animals with eyes, too, right? And their faces are cuter than a fish’s any day.”

“Yeah, but they don’t ever bring out a burger with the cow’s head still attached. Are you a vegetarian or something?”

“I’m a nonpracticing vegetarian.”