Page 32 of F*cking Shattered

“Haven’t you ever heard the saying, don’t bite the hand that feeds?”

He looks at me while pulling on his seatbelt. “I have, but do you want to go ask the ducks if they have?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Get me away from these demon ducks.”

“Oh, so now they’re demon ducks?” He shifts into drive and pulls out slowly, avoiding the ducks that just won’t give up.

“Oh, they’re demon ducks alright. Fuck these ducks.” I sit back and cross my arms over my chest.

As we pull away, I lift my hand and raise my middle finger.

“Are you seriously flipping off the ducks right now?” His voice is full of amusement.

I let my hand fall onto my lap. “No.”

I hear his deep chuckle fill the car before we’re driving away from the demon ducks, heading back towards the interstate.

* * *

As we’re driving down the road, I pull the list from my bag and mark off ‘send back a wrong order’ and start looking for the next thing I can cross off.

“What’s next?” River asks, breaking the silence.

I roll my eyes and let out a sigh. “I have no idea. I swear she did this just to watch me squirm.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Perform a strip tease?” I say as I turn to look at him.

He grins from ear to ear. “I’d like to watch that.”

I ignore him as I continue on down the list. “Give a guy a fake number?”

He quickly looks over at me. “How did she pick the things on that list?”

I take a deep breath and set the notebook in my lap. “It’s all things I’ve never done. I’m not big on going out. I don’t flirt with random guys or dance.”

“I find it hard to believe that you never had to give a guy a fake number.”

“I’m not very approachable, as Katie says.” I push my dark hair away from my face as I slide my sunglasses on. “I don’t know if I can do these things. I mean, yeah I can give a guy a fake number, but strip?” I feel my nerves shoot up just from thinking about it.

His hand lands on mine with a soft squeeze. “Don’t worry about it now. We’ll get you drunk first.”

I slap his chest with a laugh. Grateful for him bringing me out of my sadness.

We drive for hours. My butt has long ago gone numb. I stare out the window and watch as we pass by nothing but trees. I sleep off and on and River just drives contently. He never complains about being stuck in the car, the traffic, or my lack of conversation. When I want to talk, he joins in, but when I start thinking about this trip and why I’m taking it, he’s completely happy just sitting at my side, holding my hand.

I still don’t know much about him, but we don’t have that awkwardness of needing to fill the silence with meaningless chit-chat. He doesn’t feel like a stranger to me. We connect on some level I don’t quite understand. I haven’t had this instant connection with anyone other than Katie. Is it crazy to think Katie sent him to me? If I think about it, I only met him because of her. I never would have kissed him without her list. I never would have even talked to him if it wasn’t for her. Is this what she was hoping would happen when making that list?

Thinking about her gives me this feeling of happiness, but also sadness. I miss her so much. I want to pick up the phone to tell her about River. I want to tell her how I’m checking items off her list. I want to tell her how much I love and miss her.

Without thinking, I grab the notebook and a pen and start to write her a letter. I know she won’t ever read it, but I think just getting the words out will help. Isn’t writing supposed to be therapeutic?

Katie,

God, how I miss you! There are days that I forget you’re gone, and I pick up the phone to call you. That’s when it hurts the most. I’m not so sure about that actually. It hurts all the time. I know this is a stupid idea, but maybe you really can see me right now. I hope so. I want you to see me doing all the things on your list. And I’m really hoping you’re enjoying torturing me. I met a guy. His name is River. He’s tall and blond. He has this six pack that makes me weak in the knees. (Yes, I used that term) I don’t know much about him yet, but there is something about him that feels familiar. Something is happening between us, and I’m powerless to stop it, even when I try. He’s fun, annoying, and drop dead sexy. But the best part, he doesn’t ask me if I’m okay. He knows I’m not. Back home, that’s all everyone would ask me. I got so tired of lying. Being out on the road with him, I don’t have to lie. He understands why I’m hurting, and he doesn’t try to make it better. He just accepts that I’m broken and doesn’t try to put together my pieces, although he does help me forget that I’m missing so many.

Anyway, I should probably go. I’m sure you’re up in heaven right now, lounging on a cloud and being fed marshmallows by an angel with a six pack and biceps the size of my head.

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