Not Meant To Be Broken (5 page)

“Shhh...It's alright. Everything is alright,” a woman said. Her voice sounded kind, not threatening at all. I relaxed but I didn’t dare to lift my head yet. I didn’t want to see what was going on around me. Someone sat beside me and our shoulders brushed lightly. I shivered but didn’t pull back. Something about the person made me calm.

“Amber?” The woman asked softly.

Hesitantly, I turned my head to the side and lifted it from my knees. Kind brown eyes returned my gaze. Next to me sat a girl about my age, with long legs crossed at the ankles in front of her, red hair pulled into a ponytail. She looked like she’d been working out when she found me. She was wearing turquoise Nike running shoes and matching shorts.

She smiled. “'I'm Reagan. A friend of your brother.” God, I hoped Brian hadn’t called her out of the gym to deal with me.

I wiped the wetness from my cheeks and sat up a bit straighter. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since I’d lost control of myself. I remembered hearing Brian’s and Zach’s voice while I was drowning in my panic.

“I'm Kevin's girlfriend. He's living in the apartment at the end of the hall. He's friends with Zach and Brian. I don't think you've met him yet,” she chattered in a light tone, completely ignoring the fact that we were sitting on the ground, because I'd broken down.
God,
I was still only clad in a towel and the blanket that rested over my legs. I was a pathetic sight. But she didn’t say anything about it, and I was infinitely grateful for that.

“I'm Amber, Brian's sister,” I said lamely, though she probably knew that already. She smiled and rose to her feet, holding her hand out for me to take. “Let's go to your room. There we can talk some more.” I took her hand and stood up. She was a few inches taller than me and built like a hurdle runner, all long limbs and thin body. She quickly released me and grimaced. “Sorry. I’m sweaty. I really need to shower. Do I stink very badly?”

“Not very badly,” I said. She laughed. “Well, that’s a relief!” A tiny smile tugged at my lips. I led her toward my room where Pumpkin was pacing in front of the door. He nudged my calf as I entered, then he peered up at Reagan before striding over to the sofa and curling up on it. Reagan was watching him with obvious unease. I supposed everyone was scared of something, even a harmless cat. I took a few clothes out of the drawer. “Why don’t you take a shower in our bathroom while I get dressed?” I held up my jeans and shirt. “The bathroom is next door.”

“Thanks, but I can shower at Kevin’s. That’s where I left the bag with my clean clothes anyway.”

“Oh, okay.” I paused. She was leaning against my door, her eyes taking in the bare walls and empty desk. “How long have you been living here?”

“For a few days,” I said. I really wanted to get out of my towel and into my comfortable clothes, but I couldn’t undress with Reagan in the room. “I haven’t gotten a chance to put up pictures yet.”

“What kind of pictures? I love Miró.”

I flushed. “I don’t know. I’ll have to buy a few prints and frames.”

Reagan’s eyes darted to the clothes I still held in my hand. “I can turn around, or do you need me to go outside?”

I quickly shook my head. “No, turning around is fine.” I wasn’t sure if it was. She turned her back to me and reached for her ponytail, pulling out the hair tie.

Not taking my eyes off of her, I dropped the towel and dressed in record time. “It’s okay.”

Reagan faced me. “How about we go looking for pictures together? I know an amazing art store that sells beautiful bargain prints.”

I didn’t give my anxieties time to take over. “Sure. That sounds good.”

“Great!” She walked over to my desk and grabbed my phone. “I’ll put my number into your contacts.” Her fingers typed lightening fast, and a beep sounded. She pulled out her phone from the holder around her upper arm. “And now I have your number too. Send me a message if you feel up to going shopping?”

I nodded. “If I don’t, will you remind me again?” Sometimes I needed a little push. This social life thing, this whole living thing was new for me.

“You bet I will! I can’t wait.” She glanced at the watch around her wrist. “Shit. I need to hurry. I have Russian literature in ninety minutes. I can’t go there looking like a train wreck.” She scanned my face. “Are you going to be okay? I have a perfect attendance record, it wouldn’t be a problem if I skipped once. I could stay with you and we could grab something to eat.”

“No, I’m okay. Really.” I didn’t want Reagan to miss classes because of me. It was bad enough that I’d caused her and everyone else so much worry with my breakdown. “Russian literature? So you’re in College.”

Her hand on the door handle, she said. “Yeah, I’m majoring in Russian and French.”

“Wow. Maybe you can tell me more about it when we go shopping?”

“Deal. But I should warn you. Once I start talking about it, I probably won’t stop.” With a wave, she slipped out and closed the door. Somehow a day that could have become the biggest nightmare in months had turned out okay, thanks to Reagan. She seemed relaxed and in control of her life. Maybe we could become friends.

Zachary

Reagan appeared in the kitchen and walked over to Kevin. She slung her arms around his neck and kissed the top of his head, smiling. “I need to grab a shower. I don’t want to be late for classes.”

Brian’s head shot up from his arm. “How's Amber?” I'd never seen him like this. He'd always been a pensive guy but right now he was bordering on depressed. Not that I could blame him. It had been hell for me to watch Amber like that, how much worse must it have been for Brian?

Reagan gave Brian a reassuring smile as she straightened. “She's fine,” she said. “She agreed to go shopping with me. Remember that art store I talked about?” The last was said to Kevin. “Of course. You showed me their website. I’m sure Amber will love it.”

“I know. We’ll buy a few prints for her room.”

Brian’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “She said yes?”

Reagan nodded. “I really need to go now.”

“I’ll join you,” Kevin said quickly, practically leaping off the chair. The way he undressed Reagan with his eyes, I doubted he had only showering in mind. They left the kitchen, holding hands.

Brian followed them with his gaze, his shoulders tense. I punched his arm lightly. “Reagan said Amber is okay. Stop worrying.”

“How can I stop worrying, Zach? You saw her.”

I leaned back with my chair until it rested against the counter and the front legs were in the air. He was right. “Do you have classes in the afternoon?”

“Yeah, but I won’t go. I don't want to leave Amber alone after what happened today. And I can’t focus on stuff like that right now.”

“Me too.” Not that I usually needed a reason to skip classes. “Do you want to order pizza? I’m starving.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? You’ve been bailing on classes a lot lately.”

“You don't get rid of me so easily. So how about that pizza?” We'd eaten pizza or other fast food almost every day since we'd moved in together and it certainly wasn’t healthy but neither of us could cook.

“Then pizza again,” Brian agreed halfheartedly, reaching for the phone to call our favorite pizza restaurant.

“I could cook something for us.” The quiet words startled Brian and me. I almost tipped sideways with my chair and had to hold onto the counter to keep my balance. Amber lingered in the doorway, looking uncomfortable and embarrassed as she gnawed on her lower lip.

“That sounds like a great idea,” I said with a smile. Some of the tension leaked out of her body. I couldn’t believe she was the same girl who’d been cowering on the ground less than thirty minutes ago. “Well, unless your cooking skills are anything like Brian’s. I’m not in the mood for food poisoning.”

Brian didn’t laugh, didn’t react in any way to my jab. I kicked him under the table to shake him out of his stupor. She let out a small breathy laugh. “I think my cooking skills are quite alright. Dad never complained.” The smile vanished from her face and she chanced a look at Brian.

“Amber is a fantastic cook,” he said finally. “You’re in for a treat.” He couldn’t even look her in the eye. Instead he was staring at the table. Could he act any more obvious? “You don't need to cook. Maybe you should rest? You’re probably exhausted.”

Her lips tightened. “I’m not. I'd really like to cook, but if you don't want me to, then that’s okay.”

Brian shook his head hastily. “No, I love your cooking. I just thought that you needed to rest after...never mind.”

Amber blushed and averted her gaze. Oh for fuck’s sake, watching them interact was almost painful. Brian was the biggest moron ever.

“I'll check the fridge and cupboard to see what I have to work with,” she said eventually and stepped into the room. Brian sat rigidly on his chair, probably worried to scare her if he moved, and I didn't dare to move much either. But it was getting uncomfortable with my chair standing on two legs, so I let it fall back on his front legs with a low thud. Amber jumped slightly and Brian shot me a glare.

Amber ignored us mostly and even moved past us to get to the fridge but Brian kept watching her as if he expected her to have another panic attack. I was torn between breaking the silence and keeping my mouth shut. Amber turned to us after a few minutes of rummaging and gestured at a few items on the kitchen counter. “I think I could cook Penne Arrabiata from this. Is that alright? We really need to go grocery shopping if I’m supposed to cook more often.”

“Knock yourself out,” I said. “I’m always down for pasta.”

“Sounds good,” Brian said.

She began to work and I rose from my chair to grab the sports magazine that was lying on the counter behind Brian. His hand shot out. “What are you doing?” His eyes darted to Amber, who noticed as usual. Her face filled with embarrassment. “You don't have to sit there like statues, you know? You can move. I don't mind.”

Brian glared at me as if it was all my fault and handed me the magazine. He needed to stop being so fucking careful. I began to read, watching Amber from the corner of my eye now and then. She seemed content and happy while she cooked, her face more relaxed than I'd ever seen it before.

***

“Ready,” she said and the smell of pasta flooded my senses. It smelled delicious. She carried the pot over to the table and put it down. “Won't you set the table?”

Brian and I both rose at once and froze when we realized that we were now standing over her. She looked fragile and delicate and the urge to protect her flared up in me. She didn’t flinch. She ignored us and sat down on a chair. Brian and I took that as our clue to grab plates and put them on the table. We dug in as soon as we'd sat down.

“So good,” I praised between bites of pasta.

She hummed in response, sucking a spaghetti into her mouth. Tomato sauce coated her lips and I felt the ridiculous urge to lean over and kiss her.

“I missed your cooking,” Brian said.

“I want to apologize for...” She trailed off and swallowed hard, her gaze flitting toward the living room for an instant. “...for being such a bother.”

I swallowed the pasta in my mouth. Brian reached out for her but thought better of it and returned his hand to his side, giving her a forced smile. “You aren't a bother, Amber.”

“It's good to have a girl in the apartment who can cook for us, do the laundry and clean everything,” I joked, winking at her.

She let out a laugh like tinkling bells. It was a beautiful sound. “I'm not going to do your dirty laundry.”

Did she know how beautiful she was? I wanted to slap myself. I shouldn't be thinking about her in such a way. She was Brian's sister after all, and that was only the tip of the iceberg of things standing between us.

“The meeting of the support group is today. I think I might want to go,” she said, chancing a glance at Brian.

He put his fork down at once. “I can drive you there.”

“That would be great. It's at seven, so you have enough time to finish your pasta.” She leaned back in her chair, and rolled her eyes at me when Brian wasn’t looking.

I stifled a laugh. Fuck, that girl was worming its way into my heart and I didn’t have the first clue how to stop her.

Amber

Nerves fluttered in my stomach. Why did I have to mention the support group? Now I had to go or Brian would worry. Would I have to talk about what had happened? I wanted to forget, not drag everything back to the surface. But Dad and Brian set their hopes in the group. I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder. I would do this for them.

Brian was already waiting in the living room when I entered. I gave him a smile that probably looked very forced but it was the best I could do. He held the door open for me and I walked past him into the hallway, careful to keep my distance. Straightening my back and sucking in a deep breath, I walked into the elevator. Brian joined me after a moment, cautious and worried. He kept as much space between us as possible and pressed the button. The elevator began moving and the awkward silence between us was threatening to suffocate me. I wanted my relationship with Brian to return to normal, to how it had been before the day that had ruined everything. But how could it ever get normal if I couldn't even hug him or take his hand? The elevator stopped and we strode toward Brian's car. I buckled myself up. Brian kept his gaze fixed on the windshield and held himself rigid as we drove off.

“The support group will help you,” he said into the silence.

I decided to play along. “I'm sure it will.” I tightened the hold on my purse to hide the trembling of my hands.

***

We parked in front of the part of the Massachusetts General hospital where the support group meeting was held. “Do you want me to bring you to the door?” Brian asked as I unbuckled.

“No.” I wasn’t a toddler. I needed to do this on my own, even if I felt safer with someone I knew.

Brian’s hand on the seat buckle froze. “Are you sure?” Upon seeing my expression, he nodded. “Okay. I can wait until the meeting is over if you want.”

I raised my head to look at him. “No, Brian, it's alright. I don’t know how long it’s going to take and I’m sure you have better things to do than sit in the car. I’ll call you once I’m done.”

He looked hesitant but after a moment he said, “Okay, but wait inside for me. I’ll call you when I pull up.”

I got out of the car and threw the door shut. With a last worried glance, Brian drove off. I drew in a shaky breath as I headed toward the glass entrance and stepped into the brightly lit lobby. This outpatient center was part of the psychiatric department of the MGH, but my worry that everyone would look at me like I was weird was completely unfounded. Except for an elderly woman behind the welcome desk, there was only a tall girl with dark brown hair in the lobby. I was supposed to register but the thought of sitting down in circle with people who’d gone through the same thing as I had suddenly seemed impossible. The mere idea made my stomach coil.
Calm down.

The tall girl was looking at a notice board on the wall. I walked toward her slowly, not yet ready to register with the receptionist, and the girl turned to me when I stopped beside her. She was older than I’d first thought, maybe twenty, but she was so skinny that she’d looked younger from afar.

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.

“It's ok,” she said with a shrug. “Please don't apologize.” She climbed into the passenger seat with some difficulties, and I walked around the car and sat down behind the steering wheel. She fumbled with the buckle of the seatbelt. I hesitated. Should I try to help her? I would have to touch her and that would make her very uncomfortable at the very least. “Do you want me to help?” I asked eventually.

Amber froze and raised her head, uncertainty reflected in her eyes. I already regretted having asked her but I couldn't take it back. Her eyes locked with mine and her hands dropped from the seatbelt. “Yes, thank you.”

I tried to hide my surprise as I reached for the belt, careful not to touch her body. She tensed but didn’t say anything. I fastened the seatbelt as fast as possible and pulled back from her to give her room. “Done,” I told her, trying to act casual. I started the engine and took off from the parking lot. She relaxed.

I turned the radio on. “What music do you like to listen to?”

“Taylor Swift.”

“Really?”

She laughed at the look on my face. “Actually, I was just trying to see your reaction. You don’t look like the kind of guy who listens to Taylor Swift.”

“I’ll see what I can do for you.” I started searching the radio for something she might like and eventually settled on a station that was playing Adele. “Okay?”

She bobbed her head. “Better than okay. I love Adele.” She leaned back and gazed out of the side window. “You know, you're the only man apart from Brian and Dad that I’ve been alone with in years without wanting to bolt.”

I risked a quick glance in her direction. Her gaze was soft and melancholic. “I don't like being in cars. I usually feel trapped, but I'm ok now.” She started humming along with ‘Rolling in the Deep’.