Chapter 16 - Learning to Fall Apart
1788 Words
Third-Person Limited – Kendra, then Dominic, then Kendra
The next morning, Kendra learned exactly how much she’d taken her hands for granted.
Brushing her teeth was a war.
She couldn’t twist the cap off the toothpaste. Couldn’t hold the brush properly. Couldn’t even rinse her mouth without splashing water down her shirt.
“I hate this,” she muttered in the mirror, foam threatening to drip down her chin.
“Hold still,” Sofia said gently, leaning in to help tilt the cup for her. “You’ll drown yourself in Colgate.”
Kendra spat, rinsed, and glared at her own reflection.
The cast felt heavier this morning. Thick white shells from just below her elbows to her palms, her fingers sticking out of the ends like someone had glued plastic cutlery to a mannequin.
Simple things mocked her.
She couldn’t tie her hair.
She couldn’t close buttons.
She couldn’t fasten her bra.
“Okay, arms up,” Sofia said, standing behind her with a T-shirt.
“This is degrading,” Kendra said, lifting her arms with effort.
“This is temporary,” Sofia corrected, slipping the shirt over her head and carefully threading her casts through the sleeves. “There’s a difference.”
“Tell that to my dignity,” Kendra said.
Downstairs, she could hear the girls talking, bowls clinking.
“Hey!” Erica shouted up the stairs. “You need help with pants, or are you good?”
“I’m not letting you anywhere near my pants!” Kendra yelled back.
“That’s a yes!” Erica said cheerfully.
Sofia snorted. “She’s joking,” she said. Then, quieter, “Mostly.”
In the end, it took both Sofia and Jennie to get her fully dressed without ripping anything or dropping her. Pulling on jeans one hip at a time, working around the cast, felt like a circus act.
By the time she was sitting on the edge of her bed putting on her shoes, Kendra’s patience had worn thin.
She tried to hook the back of her sneaker with one toe and shove her foot in without untying it. The cast bumped into the side of her leg, sending a jolt of pain up her wrist.
She hissed.
“Let me,” Jennie said softly, kneeling in front of her.
Kendra clenched her jaw and forced herself not to yank her foot away.
Jennie loosened the laces, slid Kendra’s foot in, and retied them neatly.
“You don’t have to do this,” Kendra said, voice low.
“I know,” Jennie said. “That’s why it counts.”
Kendra swallowed around the lump in her throat.
This was going to be her life for the next two months.
Being helped.
Being pitied.
Being watched.
And on top of all that, she was stuck with him.
“Principal Garrison emailed last night,” Sofia said when they were all finally downstairs, shoving the last items into bags. “About the… arrangement.”
Kendra rolled her eyes. “Don’t call it that. Sounds like we’re in some romance novel where we fake date for tax reasons.”
“I wish this was about taxes,” Sofia said dryly. “He’s serious, Kendra. Dominic’s supposed to meet you at the front when you get to school. And at each class. And at the end of the day.”
“Yippee,” Kendra deadpanned.
“If he does anything you don’t like, you tell me,” Sofia added quickly. “Or the principal. Or literally any adult. Just because he’s supposed to help doesn’t mean he gets to control you.”
“Tell him,” Kendra muttered. “He’s the one who doesn’t understand the word ‘no.’”
They flew out of the car.
It took three tries to get Kendra’s seatbelt buckled.
By the time they pulled into the school lot, Kendra wanted to go home, crawl back into bed, and pretend the last twenty-four hours had been a fever dream.
No such luck.
The building loomed, indifferent.
Students milled around the entrance. Some looked over curiously. Word had clearly spread already. A few faces shifted from bored to sympathetic when they saw the cast. Others lingered on, shocked.
One boy elbowed his friend and said, “Bro, that’s the girl who fell—”
Kendra shot him a look that made his words die in his throat.
“Remember,” Sofia murmured in the front seat, “You can text me if you need anything. I can always ask to leave class early.”
“Yes, Mom,” Kendra said playfully, even though her stomach churned.
They got out.
The girls flanked her automatically—one on each side, one behind, like a moving shield.
That helped.
A little.
She made it as far as the front steps before seeing him.
Dominic stood near the main door, backpack slung over one shoulder, hands in his pockets. His group of friends lingered a few feet behind him, like a shadow.
He was looking at the parking lot.
Watching her.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Kendra muttered.
“There’s your… escort,” Jeah said under her breath.
“Don’t call him that,” Kendra hissed. “I’ll walk myself.”
“Are you sure?” Jennie asked.
“Positive,” Kendra lied.
Her arms were already aching.
The closer they got, the more she could see the details: the tight set of his jaw, the shadows under his eyes, the way his gaze flicked to her, cast like they were knives.
Her steps slowed.
“You don’t have to carry this,” she said to the girls quietly. “Let me deal with it.”
“You don’t have to deal with it alone,” Erica said.
“I know,” Kendra said. “But this part? Yeah. I kind of do.”
Reluctantly, they stopped a few feet back.
“We’ll be right inside,” Jennie said. “Just wave your little plaster hooks if you need us.”
Kendra snorted despite herself.
Then she took a breath and walked up to Dominic.
He started toward her at the same time, leaving his friends behind.
“Morning,” he said.
“Don’t,” she replied.
He stopped.
For a second, they just stood there, facing each other in the soft chaos of the morning crowd.
His eyes dropped to the strap of her bag, digging into her shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be carrying that,” he said.
“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t have two broken wrists either,” she snapped. “Life’s disappointing.”
He exhaled through his nose slowly, like he was stopping himself from saying something.
Then, without asking again, he stepped closer.
“May I?” he asked.
The “may” threw her more than the gesture.
She lifted her chin. “I can’t stop you, so knock yourself out,” she said.
He reached for the strap carefully, fingers brushing the fabric near her collarbone instead of her skin. His touch was careful. Too careful. He slid the strap over her shoulder, avoiding her cast, and swung the bag onto his own.
It felt wrong.
It also felt… lighter.
Her shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch.
“Thank you,” she muttered before she could swallow it.
His head jerked slightly, like he hadn’t expected that.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
Someone walking past muttered just loud enough to be heard, “Damn, Dom, you broke both her arms just to carry her books, huh?”
A few Snickers followed.
Kendra’s cheeks burned.
Before she could decide whether to ignore it or snap, Dominic turned his head.
“Shut up, Liam,” he said calmly. “Unless you break something too, you don’t get a joke.”
The boy blinked, startled, then shuffled away.
Kendra stared at Dominic.
“You defending me now?” she asked. “Adorable.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “Trust me. I won’t.”
They walked inside.
The halls felt tighter than usual. Her casts clipped the edge of a locker once; the jolt nearly sent her to her knees.
He noticed.
He adjusted his pace.
She hated that.
She also hated that she noticed him.
The first class of the day was English.
Normally, Kendra liked English.
Today it felt like torture.
Dominic carried her bag in without comment and set it at an empty desk in the second row.
“I can walk myself to my seat,” she said.
He didn’t answer, just moved aside and let her shuffle past.
Her classmates stared.
A couple mouthed, “Are you okay?” with wide eyes. One girl gave her a thumbs-up. A boy in the back whispered, “Yo, that’s hardcore,” like breaking your wrists was a fun hobby.
She sank into her chair, breathing carefully.
The teacher, Mr. Hayes, paused mid-roll call when he saw her.
“Miss Atchinson,” he said, brows lifting. “I heard there was an incident. Are you alright?”
“Never better,” she said. “Bones are slightly less enthusiastic.”
A few people chuckled.
Mr. Hayes frowned at the cast. “Are you able to take notes?” he asked.
Kendra looked at her hands.
She tried to imagine holding a pen between her fingers with her wrists locked in place, the weight of the cast pulling everything down.
“Probably not,” she admitted. “Unless you want modern art instead of handwriting.”
Dominic shifted against the wall, where he’d been told to wait until the final bell.
Mr. Hayes looked between them. “Well,” he said, “we’ll adjust. I’ll email you my notes after each class.”
He glanced toward the back. “And perhaps someone can share their notes with Miss Atchinson as well?”
A few hands went up.
Dominic’s fingers twitched at his side.
Kendra gritted her teeth.
She hated being treated like some kind of project.
When the bell finally rang, Dominic stepped forward, grabbed her bag again, and waited by her desk.
She pushed herself up using her forearms on the desk’s edge. It was awkward and slow. Her chair scraped loudly.
He didn’t say anything.
He just opened the door with his foot, holding it for her.
“Wow,” she muttered. “Chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just… tall and annoying.”
“Funny,” he said. “You can still walk. That’s good.”
She glared. “Keep talking, and we can test that theory on your legs.”
There it was—the spark he’d gotten used to.
He felt his chest loosen, just a little.
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