Tiny Little Fractures

Chapter Eight

Jon and I broke up when we were seventeen. His friends had apparently convinced him that things were never going to work out between us after we left for college. They said it would “hurt less” if we just ended it in high school before we could get “too attached.”

I saw it coming first thing that morning when he could barely talk to me on the ride to school. I knew him too well to not notice his strange behavior. After school, he met me out front and told me the odds were against us so we might as well just get it over with.

I didn’t speak to him for a week. Not a single word. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t call him. I cut him out of my life as much as I could. It broke my heart not to see those eyes every day. I hated not speaking to him. I hated him for hurting me and taking my favorite person away from me. We were seventeen. Sure, we were best friends and still in love, but it would never work, right? It would hurt less at seventeen than it would as an adult, right?

I don’t have an answer for that question. It hurt a lot. And I wasn’t the only one who felt that pain. It hurt him too, and that was the only reason I agreed to give him another chance.

Every year our school threw an end-of-the-year bonfire party at the beach for the transitioning senior class. I was too stubborn to avoid it just to avoid him. I had been waiting for that party all three years of high school. Jon told his friends that he only went to see me. When Stephanie and I got to the beach, he was already out there on the sand playing volleyball with his friends. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and he was pale and sweaty and sunburned on his bony shoulders. But he was so cute I wanted to go back home just so I didn’t have to see him.

He caught sight of me the moment we arrived. I saw him pause his game and squint through the bright sunset to see me. Then he got pelted on the side of the head with a volleyball. His friends laughed at him and I took his momentary distraction as my chance to get away. I didn’t talk to him throughout the entire party. I couldn’t even look at him.

Later that night as the party died out the entire group of us ended up around one of the fires. Stephanie was my ride home so I couldn’t escape until she decided to leave. But all of our mutual friends and Jon, shared that single fire. Until they all left and Stephanie got the bright idea that Jon and I needed to be alone.

We sat there staring at the fire for a long time. He was a few feet away from me and had his long legs stretched out and bent at the knee due to his uncomfortably long limbs. I was curled up in my sweater pretending I didn’t see him and wishing I had the nerve to get up and go after Stephanie.

“So—how are you?” he’d asked me as he poked and charred a stick he found by the water earlier.

“Okay,” is all I told him. “How are you?” He took a deep breath and poked the fire.

“I'm all right. You know—my heart is just full of tiny little fractures.”

I wanted to tell him that it was all his fault he had the stupid fractures. I wanted to tell him he was a jerk and I never wanted to speak to him again. But those words and the inside joke broke me down and I dropped my head to my knees in an effort to muffle the sob that was about to burst out of my lips. Then I felt his arms wrap around my shoulders. All I could hear was the sound of the ocean roaring, the fire crackling, and his voice saying, “I’m sorry,” over and over again. Until the sound of his voice cracking was etched into my memory forever.

He dropped his head on my shoulder and sniffed. I could feel his fingers digging into my arm as he held me close to him. Even though I was hurt and angry, I couldn’t bring myself to push him away. His body was warm and I wanted to lean into him and pretend it had never happened. I couldn’t move from my position. So I just sat there crying on my knees until he spoke again.

“Please forgive me?” he whispered.

“I can’t,” I told him.

“I’ll do anything. I don’t want to do this. I’m so sorry. This isn’t what I wanted.”

“Then why did you do it?” I sat up straight and looked at him. His blue eyes had turned red around the edges and were wet.

“Everyone says that we’re not gonna make it,” he told me as he sniffed. “I guess I just started to believe it, and I got scared. I don’t want to be without you. And they said it would hurt less if I did it now.” I shook my head and wiped my eyes.

“You’re stupid,” I told him.

“I know—I know—But I’ll do anything to get another chance, Sam. Anything. I’ll never hurt you again. I promise.”

I turned toward the ocean and held my knees to my chest. I thought, at that point in time, that it would be best for me to push him away and tell him to leave. He lost his chance. He broke my heart. It was over. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, and I don’t regret giving him another chance. Of course, through all the years and all the pain, I never regretted a single moment.

I turned to face him and tried to regain composure.

“You want me back?” I asked him. He nodded quickly.

“Yes, more than anything,” he said.

“Do you love me?” His expression softened and even though I was so heartbroken I felt the answer before he could say it out loud.

“Yes,” he said. “More than anything.”

“Then prove it to me, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

I climbed to my feet and walked away. I went to find Stephanie and asked her to take me home. She asked me what happened between us on the ride back to my house, but I couldn’t speak. I was caught between elated that he still loved me, and hurt that he’d let his friends fill his head with so much doubt.

On our last day of school, I was having lunch with my friends outside in the courtyard when he showed up with his group.

“Sam!” I heard him shout as I dug into Stephanie’s salad for all the tomatoes she refused to eat. I looked up with shock as he climbed onto a neighboring table. The entire school paused to watch. “I love you,” he told me, loudly, and with everyone watching. “I’m in love with you. Did everyone hear that? I said I’m in love with her! Sam! Samantha Milner!”

“Woo!” someone shouted from far off. He laughed and looked back down at me.

“Someday I’m gonna marry you, Sam. We’ll buy a house on the beach and have lots of poodle-headed children. I’ll never mess up again. No matter how many people tell me it’s not going to work. I promise. I’ll prove it if you give me another chance.”

I stood up and crossed the courtyard to the table he’d chosen to announce this from. I reached out my hand and yanked him down to my level. He crouched to face me.

“Just get off the table, Jon,” I insisted. He climbed down and smiled as he stood before me. I was still hurt. And angry. But I wanted that house by the beach and all those poodle-headed children.

“You’re on probation,” I told him as I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to forgive you so easily. Do you understand?”

“Yes, absolutely. I told you I’d do anything.”

“Then can you get me out of here because I’m really uncomfortable with everyone watching us.”

“Yes! Let’s go! We’re leaving! Go away!” He took my hands and pulled me away from the courtyard. We made it all the way around the corner by the lockers when I finally stopped him. He turned to face me, I held his face between my hands, and then I kissed him.

He never messed up again.