Best Kind of Broken

37 Pixie

I didn’t just wear a bikini; I wore a neon-pink statement. And I wore it proudly.

If the good people of Copper Springs wanted to see me, they were going to see the whole damn disaster.

It’s like parting the Red Sea as I walk down the lakeshore. People I’ve known my whole life are there, smiling and saying hi, and every single one of them is staring at my scar and moving out of my way like I’m some kind of leper.

In a way I guess I am. I’m diseased with the reality of Charity’s death. So let them gawk. It’s hideous, I know. But for the first time ever, I’m glad it’s hideous. Because it’s grabbing their attention and forcing them to remember.

“You know I think you’re a badass, right?” Jenna pushes her sunglasses up her nose as we look for a clear spot on the beach.

“I know.” My hot-pink bikini shows off more skin than I’ve ever shown in public before, and it kind of makes me feel powerful.

If I learned anything from Charity, it was to feel beautiful. To walk with confidence and gratefulness for who I am and what I embody. She always tried to undo the damage my mother inflicted by constantly building me up with positive words and compliments. Charity was so deliberate about letting me know how valuable I was to her. How beautiful I was, inside and out. Did I do the same for her? Was I as good a friend to Charity as she was to me?

I straighten my back and move my hair off my shoulders so my chest is bare but for my bikini top. Charity would be proud.

God, I miss her.

She gave me a friendship most people live their entire life without finding.

And then she went and died.

Jenna and I find a clear spot on the shore and lay out our towels. As I’m smoothing mine over the sand, the sight of Daren’s black sports car pulling into the beach parking lot catches my eye. He gets out and is immediately greeted by a slew of half-naked girls who are far too eager to touch him and offer him drinks. He lifts his sunglasses and scans the beach, smiling when his eyes find mine. He gives me a half-wave. I half-wave back.

His smile seems to crack a bit as we lock gazes, but he goes back to his harem before I can be sure.

“Who’s that?” Jenna asks, watching Daren pull his T-shirt over his head before joining a nearby group of wasted beach boys.

“That’s Daren,” I say as I finish flattening my orange towel.

“The guy who kissed you?”

“The very same.”

“Huh.” She stares for a moment longer, no doubt falling into the sticky web of good looks and trouble that Daren can’t help but weave everywhere he goes. “Not bad.”

I snort. “Not good either.”

“Good enough for me.” She grins.

“You’d eat him alive.”

“And I bet he’d be delicious.”

I lift a brow. “Yummier than Jack?”

Her naughty facial expression twists into one of frustration. “Jack is not on the menu of conversation topics today.”

I give her a knowing smile as we both sit down on our towels. “What’s with you two, anyway?”

She sighs. “Confusion, that’s what. Sometimes he’s hilarious and wickedly fun, and I get the feeling he’s into me, you know? But other times he annoys the shit out of me and I just want to slap him, and I get the feeling he wants to slap me back. And not in a hot, kinky way.” She considers a moment. “Well, maybe in a hot, kinky way, but that just makes it more confusing.”

“Oh, Jenna.” I smile. “I like your life. It’s entertaining.”

“Happy to be of service.”

We stretch out and lean back on our elbows, tilting our heads back to soak in the sun.

Jenna’s jade-green bikini is almost as small as mine, showing off the inked canvas of her body. Rose vines stretch across her rib cage and tangle with shooting stars that fall over her shoulder and across her chest. Other designs mark her legs and arms, and her back is a winter landscape masterpiece.

She’s fearless with her tattoos, stamping her body with whatever is truthful for her at the time. There’s something honest about that—about devoting yourself to whatever is honest for you in the moment, even though you know life will change and you’ll change with it.

People walk by and check us out. Some of them stare at my scar; some of them avoid looking at me altogether. I wonder if Matt was afraid to look at me too but forced himself to stomach it because he’s a good guy.

“Handyman Hottie is here.” Jenna looks over her sunglasses.

I follow her gaze and, sure enough, I see Levi walking our way with Zack by his side.

“Shit,” I mutter, rolling over onto my stomach.

Levi and I have been in cold moods all week, ignoring each other at every possible opportunity. Bringing up Charity had been a mistake. Clearly, we couldn’t handle it. And the fact that we both feel responsible for her death only makes things worse. Like maybe we’re both more damaged than we feared.

A slight burning begins behind my eyes, and I blink to push it away.

I blame my mother for a lot of things—my crappy childhood, my inability to enjoy fattening food without feeling disgusting, my irrational fear of lizards—but mostly, I blame my mother for all the unspoken pain in the east wing.

If she hadn’t opened every bloody wound she could find in the kitchen the other night, maybe Levi and I wouldn’t be such a mess.

And don’t even get me started on the orgasmic shower experience we had. Levi and I haven’t uttered a word about that ordeal since it happened. Because that’s what we do. We make out and then never speak of it again.

Dysfunctional to the max.

As Zack and Levi near, I press my chest against the towel and try to look like I’m sunbathing and not hiding. Levi has never seen my whole scar, and he will absolutely freak if he does now.

Jenna frowns at me. “Why do you look all stiff and awkward? And why is your face pressed into the towel? Isn’t it hard to breathe?”

My voice is muffled from the towel, where it actually is hard to breathe. “Just tell me when he’s gone.”

“What?” She leans over to hear me better; then her face brightens. “Hi, Levi.” She waves at him.

Don’t call him over, dammit!

“Hey, Jenna.” A pause. Then Levi’s voice rumbles over my back and the hot-pink strings of my swimsuit. “Pixie.”

I turn my face to greet him, keeping my front carefully tucked into the towel.

“Hey, Leaves.” It’s out of my mouth before I can take it back, and he stills at the name. I want to kick myself.

Zack looks at Jenna and slowly pulls off his sunglasses. “Why, hello, beautiful,” he says. “I’m Zack.” He shows off his dimples. “And you are…?”

“Not going to sleep with you,” Jenna quips, grinning right back at him.

His smile widens. “Well played.” He puts his glasses back on, but not before checking out my ass. “And Sarah, as always, it’s so, so good to see you.”

“You’re a pervert,” I say, even though I’d rather walk around naked in front of the whole town than lie here with my scar out in front of Levi.

Zack shrugs. “You’re the one wearing dental floss as a swimsuit—ow!” He rubs his gut where Levi just hit him and glares at his friend. “Relax, dude.”

“Let’s go,” Levi says, moving on without a second glance at me. Zack follows.

I exhale slowly and catch Jenna’s stare.

“What?”

“What is your problem?” She looks my body up and down. “You look like someone glued you to the towel. You’re all rigid and awkward and your arms are at weird angles. What’s the matter with you?”

Once Levi is far away, I turn over and lean back on my elbows like Jenna. Calm, cool, collected. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

She rips off her sunglasses and narrows her gaze at me. Then at my chest. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“What?” I feign innocence.

“You were hiding your scar? From Levi?”

I drop my head back. “You don’t understand.”

“You were marching around all proud and beautiful before he got here and then, what, you’re afraid he won’t like you if he sees your scar? Because let me tell you, any guy who’s worth a shit won’t give a damn about any scar.”

“That’s not—” I sigh, not sure how to explain it to her. “That’s not why I was hiding. My scar makes Levi sad. And I… I don’t want him to be sad.” Oh God, there’s the burning sensation behind my eyes again.

She frowns at me. “So you’re afraid.”

“What?” I turn to her. “I’m not afraid.”

“Sure you are.” She nods. “You’re always afraid. That’s why you’re hiding your scar. That’s why you keep trying to run away.” She shrugs.

“Run awa—what are you even talking about?”

She waves her hands at me. “You want to transfer to New York. You want to move to a different state. You want to hide your scar from the boy you love. You want to hide your feelings from me. You want to pretend.” She goes still. “Because you’re afraid of dealing with things.”

My mouth gapes open. “Jenna.”

“Look.” She sighs and takes her sunglasses off. “I know this thing between you and Levi is uncomfortable and difficult to navigate, but you have to deal with it. Shitty things happen, Sarah. If you keep pretending, all the shittiness is going to poison any chance you have at, hell… I don’t know, moving on? Healing?” She waits until I meet her eyes. “Don’t you want to heal?”

My heart starts to pound. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve already healed. I’m fine.” I swallow, my throat suddenly dry.

“Oh yeah?” she says. “If you’re so healed, why don’t you go over to Levi with your perky boobs and loud-ass scar and chat about the weather?” I glare at her. “Do it, Sarah. You’ve moved on. You’ve healed, right?”

I shake my head and lie flat on my back, angry and ashamed, refusing to respond to her as I close my eyes against the hot July sun.

A moment passes where she doesn’t say anything, but I hear her lie down on her back as well.

She speaks quietly. “I want to help you heal, Sarah. But you have to let me in first.” She hesitates. “Please let me in.”

My eyes burn again, and this time I let the tears come. There aren’t many, and the few that do fall are mostly hidden by my sunglasses as they stream down the corners of my eyes and to my ears.

How can I let Jenna—or anyone—in when there’s a chance they might not stay there forever? I can’t risk attaching myself to someone who could suddenly leave my world indefinitely. I can’t. I won’t.

For a long time we just lie there, listening to the laughter and music filling the air around us as I silently cry. Jenna knows I’m crying. She doesn’t say a word about it. She just lets me weep under the happy sun until my tears are dry and the silence between us feels clean.

When we do speak again, it’s Jenna initiating the conversation and changing the subject to hot dogs and popcorn until our previous conversation feels a hundred miles away.

Jenna’s good at being my friend.

Why can’t I be good at being hers?

Before I know it, the sun is setting and the sticky summer day begins to cool. Jenna and I eventually put our towels away and throw on swimsuit covers as we join in some of the ongoing festivities. I introduce Jenna to some of my high school friends, which feels slightly weird and uncomfortable, but only for a little while. Eventually, I start to feel at home around the people I grew up with, and I relax.

No one has brought up Charity’s name all night. I’m both offended and relieved by this.

“Your delicious friend looks like he’s having a good time.” Jenna tips her chin in Daren’s direction, and I look over to see him slamming another beer before serving a deadly fast volleyball over the net erected by a few beach volleyball enthusiasts.

“Yeah…” I say, as his harem on the sidelines cheers. “He’s a party favorite pretty much everywhere he goes.” He serves again, lifting his arm high in the air as he smashes a second ball over the net.

The cheerleaders start hooting again. Daren tosses them his trademark grin, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Huh.

“Excuse me,” says a voice behind us.

Jenna and I turn to see a pretty blonde—strike that, a beautiful blonde—standing in the lake’s parking lot, looking like a lost supermodel, with her tiny cut-off shorts, tight white tank top, and giant blue eyes.

Good God. What must it be like to be that gorgeous?

“Could you guys tell me how to get to the nearest motel?” she asks, her eyes darting to the volleyball game for a moment.

“Sure,” I say. “Just jump back on the freeway and head north for another five miles or so. You’ll see a motel just outside of town on the left.” I smile and hold out my hand. “I’m Sarah, by the way.”

“Kayla,” she says, shaking it.

“And I’m Jenna.” Jenna shakes her hand as well.

“Nice to meet you two.” Kayla smiles.

“Are you heading to Copper Springs to visit family?” I ask.

Her smile tightens. “Something like that.” She clears her throat. “Well, thanks for the directions. Oh, and happy Fourth of July,” she adds, before turning away. Her long blonde hair swishes across her back as she walks through the parking lot, and every single male in the vicinity cranks his head to stare at her as she climbs into a small rental car and drives away.

Jenna looks at me. “I want to be that pretty.”

I nod. “Seriously.”

When the first stars of evening begin to twinkle in the heavens, I step away from Jenna—who’s been on the phone with Jack for the past twenty minutes—and find a quiet spot away from the raging bonfire on the lakeshore.

Sitting on a large, flat rock, I take in my surroundings. The sky is a brilliant purple filled with beautiful storm clouds, and people are smiling and singing and dancing. But everything is all wrong.

I inhale deeply, feeling my lungs burn with emotion as I think about the Fourth of July Bash last summer.

Charity was tossing her head back, laughing up at the night. She was standing in the bed of Levi’s truck, dancing to the radio and promising to see fireworks in Paris someday. She was alive.

The burning expands.

Levi was shaking his head with a smile, his eyes meeting mine every few seconds. He was going somewhere. Successful. Brave. Happy.

I was happy…

Thunder rumbles from afar, and my gaze drifts to the side, locking on to a pair of blue eyes that look just as haunted as I feel.

Levi is standing with a group of his old buddies, playing cornhole just a few yards away. And he’s staring at me.

God, it hurts to look at him. To share the pain. But it hurts to bear it alone too. After Charity… it was like we toppled over a cliff, with nothing to catch us. Nothing to cling to.

And we’re still falling.

“Remember how I said we need new friends?” Jenna plops down beside me on the rock, and my gaze is broken. “Well, we should have acted faster because that was Jack on the phone, and the boy is losing his mind because he lost Ethan.”

“Does that mean you need to go?”

She makes an apologetic face. “Sort of.”

I shrug. “Then go.”

“Come with me.”

“No way.” I smile. “I don’t do Jack drama. Or Ethan drama. I don’t do boy drama, period.”

“You’re so wise.” She sighs, then scrunches her nose. “But if I leave, how will you get home?”

Jenna drove me out here tonight because, apparently, the whole wide world is afraid that if I drive myself anywhere I might instantly combust or something.

“No worries,” I say, and quickly send Ellen a text asking if she’ll pick me up later. She responds with an immediate yes. “See?” I smile at Jenna. “Problem solved. Now go attend to your damsel in distress.”

“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes. “That’s so what Jack is. An overgrown damsel with a penis. I swear to God, if he wasn’t so ridiculously hot I would—I would—”

“Still want to screw his brains out?”

She makes a face. “Probably.” She gathers her stuff, then hesitates. “Are you sure you’re okay if I leave?”

“I’ll take care of her,” Daren says, interrupting our conversation as he walks over and throws a lazy arm around my shoulder.

Jenna looks at him with sharp eyes. “And why would I trust you?”

“Uh… why wouldn’t you?” he says.

“Because you’re a random kisser.”

“I’m a—I’m a what?” He laughs.

“A random kisser,” she says, overenunciating each word. “You randomly kiss girls without permission.”

“Aw…” He cocks his head. “You sound jealous. Would you like me to randomly kiss you? I mean, we haven’t really met, but I feel like we could have some serious chemistry here. And I’m not above kissing complete strangers.”

She juts her jaw at him, then looks at me. “Is this guy for real?”

“He’s harmless,” I say as I casually remove Daren’s arm. “And it’s not like I need a babysitter.” God. It’s like I’m twelve years old again. “I’ll be fine. Just go.”

She looks unsure.

“Go,” I urge her, flicking my hand. “Before Ethan winds up in jail or another country.”

She kisses my cheek. “Okay. Love ya.”

As she walks away, I call out, “Tell Jack Hammer I say hi and that I’m totally on board with naming your baby Taylor.”

“Not funny,” she sings at me as she walks away.

I sing back, “Very funny.”

“Come on,” Daren says, gently cupping my elbow and turning me around. “You’re missing all the fun.”

I look at him as we walk back down the beach. “Are you okay? You seem… down.”

“Who, me?” He scoffs. “The only thing I’m down about is the fact that I don’t have a cold beer in my hand right now. A dilemma I will quickly rectify.” He grins at me, but even in the darkness I can tell his expression is strained.

“Okay.” I don’t want to push it. And even if I did, Daren isn’t the type to just spill his guts to someone. Especially not to a girl.

We walk in silence toward a large bonfire. Music playing from some unidentified source grows louder as we near, as does the laughter of all the partygoers. I wonder where Levi is—if he’s still here, if he wishes he were somewhere else.

When we reach the group, Daren says, “All right. I’m off to get my drink on. Try to stay out of trouble, would you?” He winks.

I shake my head. “You need a babysitter.”

“Ah, what a fantastically sexy idea. I’ll go look for one.” He smiles, then disappears into the sea of people dancing in the firelight.

I stay beside the giant bonfire, where I can no longer see the stars in the purple sky. Or Levi.