Shattered

Shattered

By

Elizabeth Lee

2012 Copyright by Elizabeth Lee
 

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

To anyone in
our tiny town
who has lost someone too soon.

Your strength and perseverance is amazing.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Alyssa

I didn’t care.  I didn’t care about what I was wearing.  I didn’t care that my hair wasn’t clean.  I didn’t even care that I was walking out the door wearing traces of yesterday’s makeup.  This was the problem with me, Alyssa Boyd.  I just didn’t care.

Most teenage girls woke up bright and early to get ready for school, but this year I’d had barely managed to get up at all.  The part of me that should make me want to get up, get dressed and get ready to face the world was gone.  It had one foot out the door the day that Garrett died and finally made its official exit when Jesse left.  Now, I was doing just enough to get by, to convince my parents I was okay and not draw anymore unwanted attention myself.  Living in the small town of Harrington, a person was expected to look and act a certain way, that is, if they didn’t want the whole town talking about them.

So, I did what little self-preservation was needed, dragged my sorry ass out of bed and threw on the first pair of jean shorts I could find. I reached down and grabbed what appeared to be the cleanest t-shirt on my floor and brought it to my face. I inhaled its scent and decided it was clean enough wear. I quickly ran my hands through my tangled, chestnut colored waves and pulled them up into a messy ponytail. I looked in the mirror.  I didn’t look much different than I had last year.  I was a little skinnier, but I hadn‘t really changed, physically. I knew deep down that the girl staring back at me didn’t reflect how  broken I was on the inside. I licked the tips of my index fingers and cleared away the smudged mascara from under my eyes.  I debated on whether or not I should put on new makeup. My olive complexion was clear from any major blemishes and my dark brown eyes were encircled by thick, dark lashes.  I didn’t even know why I thought I needed mascara in the first place.  I didn’t feel like messing with an entire face of makeup, so I opted for a coat of sheer of lip gloss, shoved my feet in a pair of flip-flops and walked out the door of my family’s second-generation farmhouse, letting the wooden screen door slam behind me.  I reminded myself, while climbing behind the wheel of my black Volkswagen Jetta, that today was the last day of my senior year and tomorrow I would graduate.  After that, getting out of bed was entirely up to me.

I took off down the gravel lane that led from my house down to County Road #5, or just County 5, as most called it, and whipped out my car out without even yielding to check for oncoming traffic. The road was barely wide enough for two cars, but I held tight, dead center. I pressed my foot down on the gas pedal, until it pressed back.  The engine revved and I could hear the loose gravel that escaped the hold of the black road oil ping off the side of my car.  I didn’t let off the gas as I approached the hill that sat exactly ½ of mile from my driveway.  It used to be the hill that drew in daredevils from miles away.  Hitting it at around 60 miles an hour, gave drivers, and passengers, one gut-wrenching thrill ride. I jumped that hill too many times to count. Each time I went over I closed my eyes and prayed that there wasn’t a car coming from the other direction.  I’d driven and/or ridden over in my car, Jesse’s Jeep, January’s car… Garrett’s truck.  Now, it just served as a reminder of time being cut short and life being unfair.  I finally came up on the hill and looked down to see that my speedometer was registering 64 mph. I firmed my grip on the wheel and closed my eyes, letting the car’s acceleration send it airborne.  It seemed like a minute passed as I sat weightlessly with my eyes closed. When it finally touched down from its descent, I opened my eyes and realized I’d made it over in one piece. I was still alive. Nevertheless, like with most things, I didn’t care.  

When I pulled into the parking lot of Harrington Community Schools, I parked in my usual spot and shut off the engine. Looking up at the building, I let out a sigh, knowing that this was the last time I’d have to set foot in that place.  I’d spent 13 years of my life in that school, from ages 5 to 18.  Small towns have even smaller schools.  All of K-12 was housed inside the blond brick building. There were only 22 kids in my class and the majority of them had been with me since kindergarten.  

Knock, knock, knock
.  An incessant knocking followed by a smiling face came through the driver’s side window, breaking my trance.  It was a familiar face, one that I remembered from the first day of kindergarten. Her bright blue eyes and blond hair had remained the same.  January Evans.
 

“Hey girl!” she chimed as I summoned every ounce of will I had and opened the door.

“Hi.”  My greeting was much less cheerful as I exited the vehicle.  January had been there to greet me every morning of our senior year and every morning I forced a smile and a “hi” as we walked into the building together.  The two of us had always been friends and up until 7
th
grade we were inseparable. Then the boys entered the picture.  Hapley Wilson moved to town and quickly stole January’s heart, and my best friend.  The two of them were like an old married couple within weeks.  That’s when Garrett and Jesse took pity on me and pulled me into their fold.  Harrington’s own
Terrific Trio.
 

When January’s attention shifted to Hapley, I remembered feeling completely alone.  I had other friends, but none that I really wanted to hang out with.  

One day after school, I was walking down my driveway to get the mail.  Two four-wheelers approached just as I’d reached the mailbox.  They stopped as I pulled the letters and bills from inside the large metal box.

“Hey!” one of the riders shouted at me.

They’d scared me to death. The letters I pulled from the box flew out of my hands, fluttering to the ground. I turned to see Garrett Reynolds and Jesse Vaughn sitting at the end of my driveway, smiling at my reaction.  I’d known them my whole life, but seeing as they’d paid me little or no attention, up to this point, I was baffled as to why they were doing so now. Both of them were a little awkward at only 13 years of age, but still there was something about each of them made me smile. They were the most popular boys in our Jr. High School, so I definitely knew who they were. Boys like them were the topic of conversation at the 7
th
grade girls lunch table. My classmates would say “They are so cute” and “Omigod, I think he just looked at me” as they walked by with their trays every day.  I hadn’t really noticed them in that way.  They were cute enough, but I hadn’t let it take over my lunch period.  The idea of having a boyfriend that you held hands with or, heaven-forbid, kissed, hadn’t even registered on my radar yet.

 They were both about the same height, but couldn’t have been more different in appearance.  Garrett’s fair complexion, gray eyes, blond hair and full cheeks gave him a cherub like appearance.  Jesse’s hair was black and his eyes were the color of evergreens.  His skin was still perfectly suntanned from summer vacation, while his counterpart looked as though he would have easily burned if he didn’t wear sunscreen.  They’d pulled the four-wheelers side by side and shut off the engines.

“What are you doing?” Garrett asked as he fumbled with the bill of his worn-out baseball cap.  Jesse sat back on his four-wheeler, crossing his arm over his chest, as if he were stopping against his will.

“What’s it look like?” I replied, holding up the mail in my hand. I was still confused as to why these two boys wanted to talk to me and my defense mechanism had always been sarcasm.  My mother was constantly berating me for being a smart-ass.

I saw a smile cross each of their faces. “Well, smarty,” Garrett laughed, “after you finish getting the mail, you wanna go for a ride?”

“Why?” I asked.

“Why not?” Jesse quickly replied.

I bit my lip and stared at them for a second, letting the invitation sink in.  My mind raced with questions. Do they really want to hang out?  Is this some kind of prank?  Are they are gonna leave me on the side of the road somewhere?  The innocent smiles they both flashed let me know that there was no hidden agenda.  They were just out for a ride and wanted to have fun.

Jesse finally spoke up, derailing my train of thought, “Yes or no, princess?”  He didn’t seem as friendly as his buddy, but I could see through his tough guy facade.  I knew that he was using sarcasm the same way I had just done.  He seemed unsure of what he was doing.  He was interesting, cool and quiet, completely different from Garrett, who wore his heart on his sleeve and never had a problem talking to anyone.

I’d never been the girl who likes to run out and play in the dirt.  My mother and father had always agreed that boys were supposed to play outside and girls were supposed to sit quietly by and look pretty. There was something about four-wheelers that had always excited me though.  My parents had never let me have one of my own.  They said they were worried about my safety.  The pull of feeling the hot, end of summer air whip through my hair coupled with the interest of spending time with Garrett and Jesse was too much. I looked back at the house, knowing that my mom had gone to the store and my dad was working. “Yeah.” I quickly shoved the mail back in the box. “Let’s go!”  

I hesitated as I approached the two of them, wondering who I was going to ride with.  Jesse started his and pulled back on to the road as Garrett shook his head in Jesse’s direction, before sliding forward on his seat. He smiled, “Guess you’re with me.”

That was the first afternoon of many, that I spent on the back of one of their four-wheelers.  We eventually graduated to vehicles when the boys got their license, but they’d managed to keep me in tow, wherever they went. They even took me to and from school every day.

Now that they were gone, January had been by my side since last August.  I appreciated having her around.  She made the act of facing the world a little more bearable.  I tried each day to remind myself that it was worth getting out of bed and, sometimes, she actually made me smile, or even laugh, so the effort she put forth wasn’t a complete waste of time.

“Can you believe that this is it?”  January opened up her locker, which she had purposely selected at the beginning of the school year, right next to mine. “This is the last day that we will have to get our books out and go to class.”

“I glad.  I’m so over this place.”  I said unenthused, fumbling with the padlock on the outside of mine.  I could never remember the combination.  I guess my mind was too clouded with everything else to include three measly numbers.

January moved over and took the lock from my hand, twisting it, effortlessly, left, right, left, and it fell open. “You’ll miss it.”  She smiled at me, tilting her head down just a bit, letting her eyes give me an all-knowing stare.  It was the same look she gave me every time I said anything about getting the hell out of this place.  I knew that she wasn’t just talking about school. She was also talking about Harrington. I’d lived my entire life in this tiny little town.  It was an idyllic setting for most of the people who lived there, the kind of place that country songs were written about.  Unfortunately, the only country songs I heard these days were the sad, my wife just left me and took the dog, kind of songs. I’d said for months that I was going to haul ass out of here as soon as I could. Sure, it was the only place I’d ever known as home, but it was also filled with memories that I wanted to forget.

I let a slight smile crack my lips, to appease her and I shrugged, “I guess.”

We had just grabbed our books and were headed down to homeroom when Hapley came up behind us and wrapped his arms around our shoulders.  “Good morning, girls!”  He was just as upbeat as his girlfriend was.  He planted a kiss on January’s cheek and turned to do the same to mine.