A Shattered Heart

  I propped my feet up on the dashboard. "Do tell," I said dryly.

  "It's never busy."

  Five minutes later his words proved to be true as he parked in the relatively dead parking lot.

  "I can't believe this place can afford to stay open."

  "They make enough to keep the power flowing," he said, heading toward a gate that was marked employees only.

  He held the gate open for me. "You work here?" I asked, feeling a little bad about all my smack talk about the place.

  "My friend Nick does. I help out on the weekends sometimes for a little extra dough." He waved at a couple guys hanging out by one of the rides but kept walking. "I just need to drop a couple tickets off."

  I nodded as if I was listening to his words, but my attention had been snagged by one of the attractions. I stopped in the middle of the walkway to watch as two people climbed aboard the ride. Their friends whooped from the sidelines, egging them on. Even from a distance I could tell the girl was terrified. In a past life, I would have been too chicken to strap myself to a bunch of oversized rubber bands that sent you flying in the air. Those days were over, the ride drew me to it like a magnet. I watched as the attendant buckled the teenage couple into the round capsule. The girl looked ready to spew. Her face had taken on a greenish tint as she clutched the bar in front of her. I could tell she wanted to get off the ride, but her boyfriend wore an expression I recognized from my own reflection. It was a haunted look.

  Brian stopped talking as I watched the ride slingshot into the air. For a moment its occupants were free. I wondered if they would continue flying into the air if the rubber bands snapped. I edged closer toward the ride. I wanted that freedom.

  "You want to go on?" Brian asked.

  I nodded, turning and looking at him for the first time since spotting the ride. I was surprised to see his face looked a little green around the gills. "Are you scared?" I asked, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice. With the body frame of a tank, it was hard to believe he was afraid of anything. The girl's shrieks of terror filled the air, making the green—and all other color, for that matter—leave Brian's face. He was as pasty as a ghost.

  "I'm not a big fan of heights," he admitted, walking toward the ride.

  I was tempted to tease him but decided to let him off the hook. I didn't need him to ride it with me. I preferred to do it on my own. "You can keep your feet on the ground," I reassured him as we waited for the attendant to stop the couple's free falls. I could see the girl was now sobbing into her boyfriend's shoulder as the capsule made its way back to earth.

  "I can ride with you," Brian returned, as if he were agreeing to swim with a tankful of great whites.

  "And risk you spewing all over me? I'll take a hard pass on that one," I said, patting his cheek as the attendant turned toward us.

  He shot Brian an incredulous look. "Brian, my man, are you going on?" He held out a hand to fist-bump Brian.

  Brian was too busy watching the girl stumble off the ride—and then promptly toss her cookies into the closest trash can—to fist-bump anyone. Her boyfriend patted her back from a distance, trying to avoid the sick that didn't quite make it in the can.

  "I'm Austin," Brian's friend said, moving his hand toward me and opening his fingers so we could shake.

  "Kat," I said, sliding my hand into his. "It'll be just me." I grimaced at the sight of the girl still throwing up. "Wearing his last few meals isn't my idea of a good time."

  Austin barked out a laugh. "Truth," he said, helping me into the capsule.

  "You sure you want to ride this thing?" Brian called out, sounding more confident now that he was on the sidelines.

  "Don't let him spook you. This ride is a high."

  "Have the rubber bands ever snapped?" I asked as he double-checked my harness.

  "Not as far as I know." He laughed again, lowering the bar. "You'll be fine."

  "Too bad," I said, trying to hide my disappointment in my voice. I watched from my seat as his smile disappeared. He shot Brian a look, but Brian's eyes were on me.

  "Enjoy your ride," Austin said more formally.

  I tried to smile at him, to show I was joking about the rubber band, but it was too late. He released the lever and suddenly I was free, flying toward the sky. Everything else faded away as the air whipped around me. Adrenaline flowed through me as my ass lifted from the seat. The harness kept my body from ejecting. A surge of resentment flowed through me. Seatbelts had become the bane of my existence. They'd held me in place while Dan had been sucked away from me, and they were now holding me back from being completely free. My fingers moved to the latch unconsciously. It would be so easy to release the button, to let my body leave the confines of the capsule and the world behind. I wanted to keep flying. To stay up here in the sky forever.

  It all lasted mere seconds. One second I was shooting toward the stars like a rocket and the next I was free-falling back to earth. The fall was a different kind of adrenaline. I watched as the ground rushed toward me at an alarming rate, wondering if the rubber bands would do their job and save me before I could hit the ground. Each second was only a heartbeat but felt like a lifetime of heartbeats.

  Thump. Thump. Thump. Three seconds gone and I was still plummeting toward earth. Thump. If the bands failed, I would no longer be alone. Thump. If they failed, my parents would be left alone. Thump. The acceleration of my fall was slowing. I wondered if it was my imagination. I could now see Austin's and Brian's faces as the capsule slowed. It was hard to tell, but I had the distinct feeling they were talking about me.

  Austin hooked the ride back into place. I wanted to tell him I wanted to do it again and again. I never wanted to leave this seat. He eyed me warily as he lifted the bar. The words froze in my throat. It was as if he could see my thoughts. Were they reflecting in my eyes like a betrayal? Did he think I had some kind of death wish?

  "Were you scared?" Brian asked, offering me a hand to help me from my seat.

  "Yeah," I lied, avoiding Austin's eyes.

  "You didn't look scared. You didn't even scream. Most girls scream when they're scared." His voice faded.

  My eyes were on Dan's. I moved my fingers to my seatbelt, itching to remove it. Before I could think of releasing the button, Jessica's screams ripped through the air as something hit my side of the vehicle like an iron fist. Dan's eyes filled with terror as he looked out beyond me. I didn't have time to even turn to see what had hit us as the tires on my side left the road. I was suddenly higher than Dan, my body pulled against the seatbelt toward him but the belt kept me from him. I grappled for his hand. I could hear him swearing as the roof of the vehicle switched places with the wheels and we were dangling upside down. This wasn't real. It was all a nightmare. Any minute now I'd wake up in my bed. Jessica's screams screeching through the SUV were my alarm. Any second now I'd wake up and hit the snooze button.

  The vehicle flipped again and we were no longer dangling upside down. My fingers found Dan's and I felt a small measure of relief. I had him. Even as a nightmare I felt I needed to hold on to him. The vehicle tilted and we were upside down once again. Jessica's screams hurt my head. I needed to shut off my alarm. I needed to wake up and escape this nightmare. Dan's fingers slipped from mine as Jessica's screams came to an abrupt end. I did not wake though. I saw everything in vivid color as their side of the car crushed down on them, swallowing them both.

  My head snapped forward, pulling me from the memory. "Kat, are you okay?" Dan asked, holding on to my shoulders. His features changed in front of me, filling out. Instead of the familiar rounded jawline, a more squared one formed in front of my eyes. "Kat." Dan gave me another shake, only it wasn't Dan. It was Brian. Dan was dead. My stomach churned with bitterness and disappointment.

  I opened my mouth to tell him I was okay, to stop shaking me, but the churning in my stomach chose that moment to rebel. For the second time in two months I threw up on him.

  I had to hand it to him, he handled it like
a trouper. He managed to jump back in time to avoid the majority of my lunch. For a big guy he had quick reflexes. Unfortunately, his shoes were covered in it.

  Without a word he herded me toward the bathroom. I passed the girl from earlier who shot me a sympathetic look on her way out of the bathroom. She assumed the ride had made me sick too. I nodded at her, latching on to the excuse. I stepped in front of the mirror by the sink, cool air conditioning washed over my pale face. The memory clung to me as I gripped the edge of one of the sinks with my sweaty palms. This one had been a rough one. Usually the nightmares spared me during my waking hours, only haunting me in my bed, where I could recover from them. Thankfully the bathroom was empty. No one was there to witness me as I sagged against the porcelain of the sink. I rested my forehead against it, waiting for the last of the memories to leave my system. After a few minutes I forced myself to release my death grip on the sink. I turned on the faucet, cupping cold water into my hands and splashing it on my face. My pale reflection made me grimace. Two years of this shit. I should be over it. Zach was right. I was seriously fucked up.

  ***

  "I need you to stop the damn memories," I announced the next day, slamming the door of Dr. Carlton's office behind me as I barged into his office for my weekly session.

  "Let me pull out my magic wand," he said dryly, settling behind his desk.

  I gritted my teeth at his patronizing tone. "I'm serious. I've moved on. The memories need to leave me alone."

  He tapped his pen on his desk. "I realize that. Unfortunately, short of channeling magical powers, there's no magic pill that's going to help you. You can start taking the sleeping pills I prescribed a year ago," he pointed out.

  I growled my displeasure. He was like a damn broken record. Sleeping pills did me little good when the memories wouldn't let me be even during the day.

  His chair creaked loudly as he settled back in his seat. He folded his perfectly groomed hands atop his desk. His hands were smooth as a baby's ass and blemish free, just like everything else about him. Carlton was the very essence of metrosexual. It was clear he got his hair cut regularly and spent hours being buffed and shined. At times he looked lifeless, like one of the sculptures at the wax museum. Too perfect to be real.

  "Why don't you tell me what happened?" he said, sitting forward.

  "What do you think happened? It was the same shit as always. I'm minding my own business and, bam, Jessica's screams are filling my ears once again."

  He made a humming noise in the back of his throat and I debated stabbing him in the throat with his pen. I hated that sound. It was his judgmental noise. He blamed me for the memories. As shrinks went, he totally sucked at the non-judging oath they're supposed to take. I'd told him as much the last time I was here.

  The humming continued and I debated jumping out his window to escape it. Maybe if we were higher than the second floor I would have. I could play his game. I knew what the humming meant. He was wrong and maybe if I shoved my fist down his throat and pulled out his windpipe he wouldn't be able to hum his disapproval. He'd be forced to whistle it out through a tube in his throat. The minutes ticked by. Money circled the drain before disappearing from sight. I would have walked away months ago, but it was Mom and Dad's only stipulation. They'd let me live in my dangerous neighborhood, avoid my old life, and be the person I now was, but in return I had to go to therapy every single week. Leaving Dr. Carlton and finding a new shrink to mess with my head would have been the easiest choice, but one thing held me back and he knew that. If I switched shrinks I would be forced to discuss the accident and the losses all over again. I would be shackled to Carlton for eternity by sheer stubbornness.

  "Seeing Mackenzie isn't going to suddenly cure me," I finally yelled at him so his damn humming would stop. "For your information, I saw her and it didn't help in the slightest."

  "Yes, you saw her but you neglected to talk to her. You're angry at her."

  "Hell yes, I'm angry. She's moved on without a backward glance at any of us."

  He clucked his tongue, twirling his pen around on his desk with the tip of his finger. "I thought you said you've moved on also," he said, throwing my words back in my face.

  I glared at him. "It's not the same thing," I railed.

  "You're right, it's not. Mackenzie has truly moved on. You are still stuck in the past. Until you face all your ghosts, moving on will remain what it really is, an illusion. You have to talk about the accident. You have to forgive your friends." His eyes bore into mine. "You have to forgive Dan for leaving you."

  Like a rocket I was up and out of my chair and out of his office. His door slammed behind me.

  "See you next week, Kat," Ms. Nielsen, his receptionist, called out to me as I stalked out the front door. She was unfazed by the slamming of his door. Almost every single one of our sessions ended this way.

  My anger propelled me across the parking lot, following me in my car as I pulled out and tore down the road. He was a fool. I was not angry at Dan for leaving me. I was angry at myself for letting him go. I didn't need to face the past to accept this. The memories were so bad lately because of my recent run-ins, plain and simple. I needed to distance myself from everyone who was pulling those memories to the surface.

  Nine

  For the next month I did exactly that. I kept my run-ins with Brian to a bare minimum and declined any invitations to hang out. I stayed away from any parks near my parents' house and threw myself into work and my own artwork. When I wasn't painting or teaching I was running in the literal sense of the word. I took up evening running, pushing myself to a near breaking point so I would fall into bed exhausted every night. It didn't stop the nightmares completely, but it did prevent them from tormenting me every single night.

  By July, I felt more in control and managed to make it through several sessions with Carlton without leaving his office in a fit of rage each time. I fooled myself into believing I was happier this way. The problem was I knew I was lying. The separation that I'd deemed necessary for so long no longer worked. Thoughts of my friends dogged my footsteps every second of the day. I began to believe they were numbing me from the outside in since the knives of pain were now a dull ache instead of the piercing sharpness I was used to. It was a losing battle.

  That's why I found myself driving into my old neighborhood on a hot July day dripping with humidity. Gripping my steering wheel with sweaty palms, I had no idea what my plan was. I was testing the waters of painful memories. If they threatened to drown me, I'd drive away like a bat out of hell. My foot hovered over the gas pedal as I approached Jessica's house. I started to press down on the pedal when I saw someone working in the yard. It only took my brain a moment to compute the necessary information that the person in the yard wasn't either of Jessica's parents. Instead of tapping the gas, my foot tapped the brake, bringing my car to a crawl as I craned my neck trying to get a better look at the woman who didn't look much older than me. A toddler sat at her feet plucking pieces of grass. I didn't recognize either of them.

  With my heart in my throat I finally lifted my foot from the brake and continued down the road. Jessica's parents had sold their house. No one told me. That wasn't a surprise. I'd made the subject taboo. It was clear that everyone else had moved on. They were right—I was the only one who was stuck in the past.

  Without giving it too much thought, I turned abruptly down the next street. The houses passed by my window, but I didn't bother looking at any of them. I had one destination in mind. My car drove to it like a homing device had been installed beneath its hood.

  I pulled into the driveway we used to play basketball on for endless hours after school. The hoops were still positioned on either side, though none of us would ever play on it again.

  I walked by them, shutting the memories down.

  Reaching the front door, my fist froze midair. It was less than an inch from the door with its etched privacy window. The sudden will to be here had left me as soon as I pulled my car into
the driveway. I was a fool. I didn't have the foggiest idea why I was here. Our last encounter had been an epic fail. Leaving now before my knuckles could rap against the door would be justified. I could escape this porch that was a blast of raw heat from my past. Everything about this porch was exactly like I'd remembered it except for one addition. One glaring addition. An addition that signified so much of what had happened.

  The ramp.

  Before I could change my mind, I rapped hard on the door, giving the occupants inside no option to not hear me. I waited less than ten seconds before pounding on the door again. Months of avoiding everyone and I was suddenly impatient.

  My fist was poised to knock a third time when the door swung open. A bright smile and shiny eyes greeted me.

  "Kat." Before her greeting could permeate the air between us, I was wrapped tightly in arms that smelled of spices and chocolate. The greeting was gooey and sweet like a warm cookie coming right out of the oven. The flour that dusted a small portion of the cheek just above the smile made the assessment accurate. If asked to choose one food to sum up Zach's mom, I'd pick warm apple pie. Her love for her kitchen and baking dated back as long as I could remember. Growing up it was common knowledge that her love for both made her a favorite with all of us. Baked goods translated to happy bellies.

  Standing wrapped in arms that had hugged me hundreds of times filled me with oceans of nostalgia. Until this very moment I didn't realize how much I missed her, or more accurately, this part of my old life. "Hi, Mrs. G," I greeted her.

  "Kat," she said again, giving me another tight squeeze before releasing me. "It's good to see you," she added, holding me at arm's length. Her eyes were gentle.

  I opened my mouth to repeat the sentiment to her but ended up gaping at her. Understanding filled her eyes. We both knew I'd be lying.

  "Come in." She stepped to the side, holding the door open.

  I walked by her, breathing in the familiar smell with appreciation. The inside of the house smelled exactly as I remembered. I realized after stepping inside that was the only thing the same about the place. The whole interior of the house had been gutted and reconfigured. Instead of the small office and dining room that used to greet guests, the walls had been removed to open the spaces up to the family room and kitchen, creating a large open concept. No more narrow doorways or carpeting. The floors were now one grade, ideal for a wheelchair.