Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez

Chapter Fourteen

Jasmine

 

 

I’ve dreaded biology all day, knowing I’ll face Alex. I feel stupid for even showing up at school like this in the first place, but I can’t let the opportunity to graduate early pass me by. This is the first step in figuring out how to separate Dad and me from Mom. And after last night, it’s more important than ever.

Andrew helped spread my lie, believed me when I told him I fell down my stairs, and soon so did everyone else. All day long, Andrew has greeted me after each class to carry my books to the next. I have to admit it’s sweet; he’s kind of growing on me.

As we approach the last class of the day, Andrew’s fingers graze my right forearm, sliding down into my hand. My steps falter when I glance at him. His light brown hair hangs low in his blue eyes, and he’s wearing a crooked smile on his lips that melts a little piece of me. He’s tall, strong, and funny. Who wouldn’t want to be with him?

His fingers curl against mine until we’re a few paces from the doorway. When I let go, the air fills with an awkward silence as I stand next to the open door, crimson tinting my cheeks.

“Well, that wasn’t too weird,” Andrew says sarcastically, and we laugh.

“I’m sorry. I’m not good with any of this…” I leave the sentence hanging in the air, but he nods his head, all the same, signaling he understands.

“Don’t worry about it.” He hands me my books. “I’ll see you after class, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, completely forgetting that my afternoon’s reserved.

That is, until I turn into class and find Alex watching, dissecting me entirely from head to toe. He’s too perceptive. He’ll see right through my lie; see through all the rumors floating around school, and it scares me to death that he’ll figure out the truth—that my mom beat me for seeing him.

My eyes are downcast, unable to meet his accusing glare as I reach my seat. His scowl screams his message loud and clear. I know you’re lying. After setting my books down, I breathe deeply to relax, but it doesn’t work; his scent surrounds me, burrowing claws into my skin, setting up permanent residents.

“What happened to you?” His voice shakes with anger and something else… Concern?

My mouth hangs open, forming words I haven’t articulated when the bell rings, giving me an excuse to defer the question. The teacher calls our attention to the front of the class, so I concentrate on her and keep my mouth closed. Not that I know what to say, anyway. If I speak, I’ll tell him the truth, everything about how my mom treats me, and now beats me. Letting that secret out is unfathomable. To keep people at bay, you have to push them away, keep a shield around your heart, and right now, just the way Alex is looking at me, mine is beginning to crumble.

Lucky for me, the teacher provides an entire hour of quiet by droning on about the plants we’re collecting for our projects, describing different identifying factors.

My entire hour’s spent vigorously writing every word that comes out of her mouth, never allowing Alex the opportunity to speak again, pretending that I’m too preoccupied to pay any attention to him.

Once the bell rings, my pencil stops and the teacher dismisses us. I pack up, still trying to avoid eye contact with Alex, but he refuses to wait any longer.

“Are you done trying to avoid my question?”

“Can we not talk about it?” I whisper.

He steps into me and growls, “No. We will talk about it. You need to tell me what the hell happened to you.” His voice is beginning to raise, just not enough for others to notice… yet.

As I study him, watch as his eyes flare with fire, concern burning in their depths, my walls vibrate with the need to crumble. But explaining to him about my mom, about what happened last night, is not happening… it just can’t.

Again, I luck out. Andrew walks over and places himself between us, pulling me behind him, as if Alex would ever hurt me. The sight of Andrew only increases the fuel in Alex’s fire—he blazes with anger.

“Back off, Navarro,” Andrew warns. He must have a death wish.

“You do this to her?”

“What? No, dude, she fell down her stairs.” By the look on Alex’s face, he’s not buying it.

Alex’s eyes flick to me. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“Yes, fucking way. That’s what she said. Ask her.”

I look at Alex and nod.

“You’re lying.” He states bluntly.

“I think you need to mind your own business, Alex. Jasmine isn’t any of your concern.” Andrew bumps Alex’s chest with his own.

About this time, I’d expect Alex to punch Andrew in the face, but to my surprise, he takes a deep breath and steps back.

“Are you still coming with me after school?” Alex looks at me, and Andrew no longer exists.

“No, she’s not going anywhere with you,” Andrew answers for me before I can get a word out.

“Actually, I am going with Alex. I forgot to tell you, but we’re working on our project together.” Who does Andrew think he is? No one speaks for me, but me, so I pick up my books and walk out with Alex when Andrew speaks again.

“I’m sorry, Jasmine. I didn’t mean to speak for you. Can I call you later?” At least he seems smart enough to know exactly what pissed me off, and my anger defuses.

“Sure.” I smile, knowing that it’ll piss Alex off. How horrible am I? “Thanks for today.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll call you later.” He leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

When I glance at Alex, his mouth is in a thin, hard line, glaring daggers at Andrew’s back as he leaves the classroom. When he turns to look at me, I thought he’d ask about Andrew, but he only says, “You ready?”

Andrew is the safe choice. The smart choice. But when Alex hovers close, overwhelming me with his masculine scent, his warmth, I know he’s not the right choice. The choice my body and soul crave. Butterflies bombard my stomach, partnering with my heart to cause chaos as it flutters faster.

When I answer, my voice is calm. No hint of my broken pieces. “Yeah.”

~~~~~

We’re almost to the river when Alex breaks the silence. “You gonna stop this act of yours and tell me what really happened?” His voice has lost its hardness, sounding like the old Alex.

“Maybe someday, just not today. It’s not Andrew, and it’s not anyone you need to worry about.” I walk ahead of him, trying to end the conversation.

He reaches out and catches my upper arm carefully and pulls me close. “Anyone who did this to you is someone I’m worried about.” He traces his finger down the side of my face, tucking all the wayward hairs as his chocolate eyes reach to hidden depths, threatening to reveal all my secrets.

He lets me pull away, hiding from his declaration. “This is one of the plants.” I inspect the bunch of blue flowers, comparing them to my notes. “You see, Camas. The blue flowers at the top are shaped like a cone and they’re found in damp lowlands. When dug up, it reveals white bulbs that can be prepared like potatoes after washing off the dirt.” I smile, happy he let me flawlessly change the subject.

“Sounds good. Should we pick one to take home? We could write all the plants we find, what their food prep would entail, and start making up our menu.”

“Good idea.” I pluck the plant and hold it up, wrinkling my nose in disgust. The bulbs resemble scallions, which I hate, so I’m grateful we don’t have to eat them.

“What’s going on with you and that guero, Andrew?”

“Why?”

He shrugs. “Just curious.”

“You don’t like him much, do you?”

“No.” The single word’s a growl.

“Why?” As far as I know, Alex never knew Andrew before the crash. Had they had some altercation since then?

He leaves the questions unanswered, and instead, stands next to me and asks, “What’s this one?”

I have an inkling he already knows the answer to his question, but I state my thoughts, describing the plant to him. “It’s an Ostrich Fern, also known as fiddleheads. It can grow up to 5 feet. They have coiled tentacles, kind of like an octopus, with a bunched center. If you collect the top coils and scrape away any brown patches, you can steam or fry them with butter.”

“I think you picked an excellent spot for edible foods. How many other groups picked this area?” He’s running the fern leaves through his fingers before plucking one off to add to our collection of plants.

“No one from our class. The other locations were closer to the weekend hangouts. I thought an area less-trafficked would provide better samples. Plus, it’s calmer. I figured you’d appreciate the quiet too.” I gesture to our surroundings. The birds are chirping and you can hear the river close by. The air smells crisp and clean, peaceful.

His smile’s slow to curl his lips. “You guessed right.”

Warmth spreads up my neck and across my cheeks as his words caress my skin. The reaction makes me feel like an idiot, so I focus on my notes.

An awkward silence fills the air between us before he steps closer to me and grabs my tablet. “What else are we looking for? Anything we already know?” he asks, defusing the tension.

“Yeah, there’re dandelions and blackberries. Even you should be able to figure out what those are,” I joke.

His smile lights up his entire face and his eyes come alive. “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?”

“You do know what they are, right?” I’mflirting! Are you kidding me? What am I doing?

“For your information, yes, I know what they are. I also know how to identify the rest of them. Put that thing away and I’ll show you,” he challenges.

“Fine. Be my guest.” I gesture with my hand for him to proceed.

As it turns out, he knows every plant on my list. What the plants look like, where to find them, how we should cook them. He also tells me the name of several other plants in the area that are not edible.

“How do you know all this?”

“I needed somewhere to go after the accident to blow off steam, so I came here, of all places. I brought books with me and ended up learning more than I thought.”

I don’t want to talk about the accident, so I try to lighten the mood. “I guess that’s a plus for us then.” To my relief, he laughs.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

We walk back to school in comfortable silence, carrying our edible plants. Alex passes his bike and comes with me to my car, ensuring I leave safely.

“I’d say I’ll come up with a couple of recipes, but it seems like you already know what to do. I think we’re almost done with our project after the first day.”

“That’s too bad,” Alex says, but then turns his focus to the other end of the parking lot, his jaw flexing.

“So, tomorrow… you want to get together again and go over a menu?”

“Can’t.” No elaborating, just one word.

“All right.” His reply strikes like a whip, violently lashing the organ in my chest. Not the denial, but the dismissiveness of his tone, erasing the softness of the last couple of hours.

Hope is a bitch. This is why the rejection stings, because that’s exactly what was building inside of me. I should have known. Everything good evaporates.

Not wanting to endure another disappointment, I toss the plants into my car, ready to get away from this feeling of dismissal when Alex speaks…

“Jasmine, wait.”