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Authors: Aimee L. Salter

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BOOK: Breakable
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Chapter Four

 

Doc
examines his thumbnail. While I'm grateful for the lack of eye contact, part of
me is offended that he can listen with such detachment. I’ve just told him my
high school sweetheart was almost killed by his father, and oh, by the way, I
talk to myself in the mirror. To my
other
self.

If
he’s read my file, he knows where this is going.

"Karyn?"
he says to his thumb. "The same Karyn who was involved in
your…incident?"

I
frown. Is this some kind of trick? Surely he’s more interested in the mirror?
I’d rather talk about that than Karyn.

But
he waits, so I have to reply.

"Yes."
I spit the word. It is the wrong way to respond. Doc's gaze has risen to meet
mine.

"That
must be hard, looking back."

I
scoff and cross my legs, tipping my weight so I don't stretch the scars on my
side. "Where do I start?" It was rhetorical, but he answers anyway.

"The
beginning. Did Mark introduce you?"

“No.”
I try for an ironic chuckle, but it comes out cold. “I introduced them.”

Both
of Doc’s eyebrow’s pop up, just a little. “So, you were friends with Karyn
first?”

Sigh.
“I was friends with all of the girls first, Doc. I was popular until eighth
grade... Sort of. Mark didn’t even go to the same school as all of us until
freshman year.”

“How
so?”

“His
dad sent him to some private, rich-kid middle school in the next town over.”

Doc
looks at his notes, frowns. “So, tell me about your relationship with Karyn,
and the other girls, back when you still categorized them as friends. I’m
especially interested in what changed your relationship with Karyn.”

Should
have known. This is about the mirror after all.

I
roll my eyes to pretend I’m unfazed. “Why? What’s your point? She isn’t why I’m
here. Not really.”

He
sighs and removes his glasses, cleaning them on his shirt. “Stacy, I can assure
you that none of my questions are pointless. If we’re going to get through this
today, you’re going to have to trust me to identify what is important and what
is not.”

Trust.

Now
there’s a word.

Doc
returns his glasses to his nose and stares at me.

Okay,
fine. Let’s do this.

 

 

 

I’d
never been the girl everyone wanted to be, or even the girl people wanted to be
with. But as far as eighth grade, I hung out with the girls who were: Belinda,
Terese, and eventually, once she transferred, Karyn.

Things
were never easy for me socially. I was a little too awkward. Too quirky.
Definitely too prone to running off at the mouth. But as far as the girls were
concerned, there was one day I always saw as the turning point, where
everything had gone wrong.

It
started innocently enough.

The
bell for break had just rung. I was walking past the tech wing with Karyn, on
our way to meet Belinda. Some guy walked past us – I don’t even remember who he
was – and flipped up my skirt. Right in front of a long, line of shiny windows.
The windows into the computer tech class.

Wolf
whistles and cheering rose from the other side of the glass. I blushed and
shoved my skirt back down – it had caught on my bag somehow. Karyn’s
little-girl giggle turned into a hoot when some guy banged on the glass and
pretended to hump the windowsill.

Cheeks
hot, I stormed off.

It
was an embarrassing prank. Nothing more. And that should have been the end of
it. But it wasn’t the only thing upsetting me that morning. So I ran to the
bathroom at the end of the wing. It was one of those small, little used
communal bathrooms. One long mirror over two sinks, a couple cubicles and a
hand dryer.

I
checked both stalls. No one was there. So I called Older Me.

That
was back when she usually appeared almost immediately. She’d only shown up in
the mirror a few months earlier. I’d only recently accepted that she was real.
We were still getting used to each other.

She
appeared, swathed to the neck in a thick hoodie as usual, took one look at my
tearstained cheeks and sighed. “What happened?”

“S-some
guy flipped up my skirt right in front of the computer tech class. The one with
all the windows?”

She
nodded tightly.

I
swallowed. “Everyone was there. Even Karyn laughed…”

“And?”
she said gently. It occurred to me that she was only six years away from this.
She probably remembered.

I
tried to swallow the tears. They stuck in my throat. “Remember…remember how I
told Belinda last week that I…that I liked Finn?”

Older
Me winced, but she nodded, her eyes never leaving mine.

“I
don’t think Karyn knew. Or maybe she did, I don’t know…but…but she just told me
that Belinda likes him! Belinda’s going to ask him to the spring dance! Why
would she do that? She knows–”

“Stacy,
don’t waste your tears on Finn.”

“But…but
we’ve been spending a lot of time together since we barely get to see Mark.
And… I mean, he’s–”

“I
promise you, he isn’t worth it.” Her voice was hard.

“But–”

“Stacy,
I’m not playing. Listen to me: You don’t want him. Don’t waste another second
on him.”

“But–”

“He’s
a jerk. He’d only hurt you.”

“What
are you talking about?” My voice had slipped up an octave. “Finn’s my best
friend next to Mark!”

“Not
for long,” she muttered. Her face twisted into a bitter sneer she directed at
her own hands, clasped in front of her.

Then
I understood. I leaned onto the counter. Whispered. “What’s he going to do?”

Older
Me froze. Then shrugged. But she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “It isn’t that. I just…
I just know he changes later and I think it’s better if you just ignore him
now. Don’t let him hurt you–”

“You’re
lying!”

“I
am not, Stacy. I’m just trying to protect you–”

“Tell
me what he’s going to do!”

Older
Me frantically motioned for me to be quiet. She looked around behind me. “Don’t
yell, Stacy. This isn’t the time. We can discuss it later. At ho–”

“No!
I’m not going to let you blow me off again! Tell me what he’s–”

A
tiny rustle behind me was the only warning. I swallowed the words I’d been
about to scream at her and whipped around.

Belinda,
Karyn and Terese stood together – a little triangle of bright-eyed judgment
just inside the door. Karyn’s mouth was wide with delight. Terese barely
stifled laughter. And Belinda… Belinda stood with her arms crossed, one eyebrow
cocked, and her hip shoved out.

“Are
you okay, Stacy?” she said in mock concern.

“I’m…I’m
fine. I was just…”

“Karyn
told us what happened,” Belinda continued like I hadn’t spoken. “And Stephen
said he was sorry if he upset you. He said you have a nice ass, if that helps?”

Both
the other girls tittered. Karyn covered her mouth with her hands. But she
beamed from behind them.

I
couldn’t think of anything to say. I could
feel
the spite in them
growing. Could feel their already tenuous loyalty to me shifting, breaking.

Terese
leaned into Karyn’s ear, whispering. They both laughed.

“Well,”
Belinda said. “It seems like you’re busy. I guess we should leave you to it.”

She
turned for the door. Karyn and Terese fled, their laughter audible outside.

I
just stood there, gaping, trying to figure out how to cover for this. But
Belinda was at the door and pushing it open before she stopped. Then she looked
at me over her shoulder with a wicked smile and said “Just so you know. Finn
asked me to go to the movies on Friday.”

“C-cool,”
I managed, despite the punch-to-the-gut sensation.

She
tipped her head. “Sorry, but he just doesn’t feel that way about you,” she
said, her voice so smug and patronizing, I wanted to slap her.

“I
get it, Belinda,” I ground out.

She
snorted and, shaking her head, opened the door wider and stepped out.

“Freak!”
she called back, just as it swung closed.

 

 

 

Doc
taps his pen on his notebook. He’s frowning. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised to hear
about your feelings for Finn. I’m right in assuming we’re speaking about the same
Finn? Finn Patton? The one involved in your incident?”

“Yes.”
Sometimes
I
find it hard to believe I ever felt that way about him. Or
counted him as a friend.

“So
the initial rejection came from your…habit of speaking to yourself in the
mirror.”

I
shrug. “I guess. When I look back now, I think maybe they were just waiting for
an excuse to drop me. They’d never been very good friends in the first place.”

“What
made you think that?”

I
roll my eyes. “Don’t patronize me, Doc. You know how it is – the whispered
conversations that stop when you walk in, the delight when something bad
happens to you. The way you find out Monday morning they went to the movies on
Friday night and no one called you…”

He
nods thoughtfully. “And Finn?”

Gawd,
I hate talking about him. “What about him?”

“Did
he go to the movies with Belinda? Did he choose her over you?”

I
shrug. “I’m not sure there was ever a choice. As far as he was concerned, I
mean.”

“Belinda
told him about you and the mirror?”

Snort.
“Belinda told
everyone
about me and the mirror.”

Doc
nods again and writes in his notebook for too long. The silence is killing me.
What’s he thinking? What’s he writing? What conclusion is he drawing?

I
look at the mirror. It’s only 10:15. There’s still time. But he isn’t asking me
about her and…

“I
don’t see her anymore,” I blurt.

Doc
stops writing. His brows push into the top of his nose. “I’m sorry?”

“In
the mirror. I don’t see her anymore. It’s important that you know that. I’m telling
you all this and you aren’t asking about her and–”

Doc
puts his hand up to stall me. “We’ll get there, Stacy. Don’t worry.”

“I’m
not
worried
. I just think it’s important for you to know. All
this…everything I’m telling you… she isn’t there anymore.” It’s almost true. It
will be true. Eventually.

I
think.

He
purses his lips and makes a note in his notebook. “So your alternate self is
yet another person who’s left your life?” he asks quietly.

And,
oh geez, I hadn’t thought about it that way before. But I shake my head.. “No…
not this time. This time, I left hers,” I say quietly.

Doc
holds my gaze for a few seconds, then looks down and writes one more thing.
“We’ll come back to this,” he says. “But right now, I don’t want to get
side-tracked. Let’s continue with the night of the dance.”

Oh,
wonderful.

“Tell
me what happened after you learned about Mark and Karyn.”

What
happened? “Well, I ran.”

“From
Karyn?”

“From
Mark.” To the mirror.

 

 

Chapter Five

 

As
I fled the poorly lit parking lot, I’d known Mark and Karyn would use the main
doors. On nights like this, it was more important to be seen than to actually
dance with people. So everyone lingered in the foyer. And since this was
apparently their first appearance as a couple, Karyn would want to make the
grand entrance.

Thinking
I was smart, I ducked into the shadows around the building and took a side
door. I’d still have to cross the foyer. But hopefully whoever was hanging
around would have their attention on the entrance. They wouldn’t notice me come
in the back.

I
hadn’t factored in Finn’s predilection for slumping against back walls. As soon
as I opened the door into the foyer, three heads turned: Tony, Derek, and Finn.
All footballers. All at least a foot taller than me. And Derek was a
linebacker.

The
other two immediately dismissed me, but Finn’s rat-eyes narrowed. He was leaned
up against the wall, all angles and hard edges. He had to have grown a foot in
the last year. His intentionally-messy dark hair added another couple inches.

Jerk.

Then,
that awful half-grin crept onto his face.

“Hey,
C! You made it! What, were they out of dog food at home? I’m sure I saw a
couple biscuits around here somewhere.” The other guys laughed. Finn’s gaze
locked with mine, and I imagined plowing my fist into that smug smile.

“C”
was the first letter in the word he’d been suspended for calling me the
semester before.

Mark
chose Karyn
.

Wrenching
my gaze from Finn’s, I fixed my welling eyes on the opposite wall of the foyer.
If I could just get to the other hallway, no one would be there. I could hide
in the handicapped bathroom until they all left–

At
the last second I saw the foot sliding out to catch mine. I twisted, tried to
step over it. But the jerk just lifted it higher to catch me at the ankle.

Muttering
a curse, I grabbed Finn as I toppled, swung on his arm and pulled him down too.
I landed hard on my tailbone and couldn’t stifle a cry. Half a second later,
all the air left my lungs as Finn landed on top of me.

My
purse skittered across the floor, trailing lipstick, a pen and…
no
… two
shiny condom packets.

Wolf-whistles,
applause and laughter echoed to the vaulted ceiling.

“I
thought she wasn’t your type, Finn!”

Finn’s
face was barely an inch from mine. He glared and swore, rolled off me, landed a
vicious elbow in my ribs in the process.

“Get
a room!”

Raucous
laughter.

Finn
was on his feet in two seconds, giving as good as he got. But no hands reached
out to help me.

My
tailbone throbbed. It took a few seconds to get to my hands and knees. A few
more to gather up everything that had spilled.

As
soon as I was upright, Finn got in my face. “I already told you I wouldn’t poke
you if you paid me, Dog. So go bark up someone else’s tree.”

The
laughter and whooping behind him snapped up a notch. He held my gaze, upper lip
curled, heat in his eyes.

It
was moments like this that always left me wondering how I managed to push
people beyond annoyance and into rage. And why, when faced with someone who
clearly couldn’t stand the sight of me, I lost all ability to think.

I
stared back at Finn. Waves of hatred rolled off him. Yet I had nothing; No
quip. No pithy remark.

Then
a gasp rose from the door to my left.

My
skin went cold.

One
glance was all I needed. Karyn stood just inside the doors, both hands over her
mouth, eyes twinkling. Belinda – smiling – leaned into her ear, eyes on me.

Mark
stepped up behind them, at first looking puzzled. Then his gaze rose to me and
understanding dawned. He opened his mouth – to say my name? Who knew. But I
didn’t want to see his face when he heard. I didn’t want his pity. Or worse,
his discomfort.

I
turned and, shoving Finn out of my way, strode for the darkened hallway on the other
side of the foyer. Laughter and cutting remarks chased me down the hall.

 

 

 

Our
high school was old. The disabled bathrooms were all separate little rooms. I
knew the location of each one, and which had mirrors.

The
hallway was dark because it wasn’t in use, but that suited me. Even if they
were all talking about me, at least if I was out of sight I couldn’t add fuel
to the fire.

As
soon as I got inside the bathroom, I slid the door closed, slammed the lock
home and flipped on the light. “Older Me?” My hands shook, but heat swirled in
my chest. She had some explaining to do. “Older Me?”

An
ancient sink hung off the wall. Above it a large mirror showed me from the
waist up, cheeks stained red, hair disheveled on one side, and dust covering
one arm and my hip. I twisted to find a heart-shaped swathe on my butt.
“Perfect,” I muttered. “Older Me?!”

When
she appeared, something inside me snapped.

She
must not have seen my expression. She just took in my mussed appearance and
sighed. “I told you they’d–”

“You
didn’t tell me anything!” I yelled. “Why?”

Older
Me’s head jerked back.

This
wasn’t the first time I’d wished I could reach through the surface of the
mirror and strangle her. But it was the first time I ever came close to trying
it.

Since
I didn’t feel like severing an artery, I satisfied myself with slapping the
shiny face of the glass. Hard.

For
a split second, my head rang, like my skull was a gong and someone had just
whacked it with…well, with whatever those things are that you hit gongs with. I
reeled back, but not before I registered the surface of the mirror rippling
like a pool of water.

Older
Me cried out and stumbled back too. We both ended up a few feet away from the
mirror, holding our heads.

A
few seconds later the ringing faded to nothing. I was left panting. But I’d
been frightened out of my rage.

“Stacy?”
Older Me whispered. “What was that?”

“I
don’t know,” I said, letting my hands drop.

“What
happened? Why did you…” she trailed off.

“Karyn.”
I gasped and all the tension left me in a breath. I stepped back until my
shoulders hit the wall, then slid to the floor. “He’s dating Karyn.”

In
the mirror, Older Me grimaced. “I was afraid of that.”

“You
knew.” I glared, though by this time I wasn’t really surprised. But I needed to
hear it from her mouth so I had justification for going postal on her ass.

Her
lips twisted sideways and she gave a little shrug. “I never
know
. Not
one hundred percent,” she said quietly.

“But
that’s what happened to you,” I said again, wishing my voice sounded more angry
than dead.

She
nodded. “At least, I thought it was around this time. It’s hard to keep track
of dates sometimes–”

“WHO
CARES ABOUT DATES?!” 

Older
Me startled. But then her lips pressed to thin lines and she folded her arms.
“I care,” she said. “I care a lot.”

“You
should have told me!”

“I
will never tell you unless your life depends on it!” she snapped.

“WHY
NOT?!” There was a ball of something in my chest. A roiling, seething mass of
pain and frustration and fear and utter disbelief. “Why wouldn’t you tell me to
help me?! So all of this wouldn’t hurt so much?”

For
a moment she didn’t speak. I was hopeful she would change her mind.

I
shouldn’t have been so naïve.

“Look
at us, Stacy. Look at what we can do,” she said finally. “No one else can do
this! God didn’t put me here, in your life, for no reason. There must be
something I have to do. I’m not always sure what that is… but I am sure I’m not
here to make history repeat. Your life doesn’t have to follow mine, Stacy. In
fact, I’m praying it doesn’t.”

“Well,
looking at you, I’m kind of hoping it doesn’t, too!” I snapped. Then loathed
myself.

Older
Me flinched. Her eyes closed. When they opened again, they were bright with
unshed tears. “That was just cruel.”

She
was right, of course. “I’m sorry,” I groaned, slumping back against the wall
again. “I just…I just can’t believe you wouldn’t warn me. I mean, I really
thought–”

“I
did try to warn you, Stacy. I spent two hours trying to talk you out of going
tonight. You do realize I have a life? That two hours with you is two hours I
don’t do other stuff. You get that, right?”

That
kind of slapped me between the eyes. I hadn’t actually thought much about that.

“Well,
yeah…” Now that she mentioned it, anyway. “I just… I need your help. And you
aren’t helping.” I hated the whining, plaintive tone in my voice.

How
was I going to face Mark tomorrow? We had an entire Saturday in the art room to
work on our portfolios. Alone. Until a few minutes ago, I’d been looking forward
to it. But now…

Older
Me sighed. She ran a hand through her limp hair. Her face sagged. “I only want
the best for you. You have to believe that–”

I
opened my mouth to argue with her just as the door behind me rattled and
thumped under a planted fist.

“Stace,
you in there?”

Mark.

I
leaned on the wall and took a deep breath.

“Stace?
Who’re you talking to?”

“Myself,”
I answered weakly. Mark didn’t know about Older Me. He just thought I had a tendency
to talk to myself when other people weren’t around. Which, when you think about
it, is true.

“Are
you okay?” he said. His voice sounded muffled, like he was close to the door.
“Finn said you fell over?”

Lord,
give me strength. “I tripped. I’m fine. I’m just cleaning up.” So it wasn’t a
lie, I grabbed a couple of the paper hand towels from the dispenser and ran
them under the water in the sink.

Older
Me frowned at my arm.

I
looked down. I’d forgotten about the dust and dirt painting my hip and rear. I
groaned. Stupid Finn and his stupid–

“Stace?”
Mark sounded alarmed.

“I’m
fine. I’m just frustrated.”

“Do
you need some help?”

“No.
Go back to the dance. I’ll see you later.”

He
pounded the door again and it rattled on its hinges. “Dammit, Stacy, stop being
a martyr.” Older Me’s eyes widened. “Are you hurt? I’ll drive you home. Or you
can just go. Karyn can give me a ride later.”

Oh,
yes, she’d love that. “I said I’m fine, Mark. Go back to the dance before your
girlfriend feels abandoned.”

That
was met with silence. I gave up on the wet towels, since it seemed like they
were shedding more paper on my clothes than removing dirt anyway. It took a
second to realize he hadn’t responded. Just as I froze, the tiniest cough
sounded from his side of the door.

My
stomach sank. “She’s there, isn’t she?”

“Are
you okay, Stacy?” Karyn’s little-girl voice purred. “Bee said you hit the
ground pretty hard. It must have hurt.”

“I’m
fine,” I said through gritted teeth, unable to ignore the touch of glee in her
voice. Couldn’t he see that? Couldn’t he
hear
it?  I shook my head.

Whispers
rose on the other side of the door, then broke into hushed voices.
Angry
,
hushed voices. His rumble, punctuated by her increasingly high pitched squeaks.

If
I wasn’t so miserable, it would have been funny.

Behind
me, Older Me sighed.

“Stace,
I’ll take you home. Okay?” Mark sounded weary.

I
took a breath and forced my voice to steadiness. “Go back to the dance, Mark. I
don’t want to go home yet. I’ll talk to you later.”

“But–”

I
cursed at the same time Karyn whined, “She doesn’t
want
you to!”

I
almost changed my mind. Just to irritate her. Just to see if he’d do it. But
deep down I didn’t want to fight for him.

I
feared I would lose.

“Just
go. Please. I’ll be fine.” My voice sounded normal, even to me.

A
few more hushed whispers, then Mark sighed. “Okay, but… if you decide you want
me to drive, just text me.”

I
closed my eyes and sighed, remembering my phone, laying on the bed at home.
“Okay, thanks.”

A
second later the squeak of his basketball shoes rose on the linoleum. Then
Karyn’s heel’s clicked rapidly down the hall, fading away until I heard the
faint thunk of the fire doors swinging closed behind them.

I
was aware of Older Me in the mirror, frowning.

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