Page 29 of Shattered

Miserable.

Lonely. So fucking lonely.

Pissed at the world, but mostly pissed at myself.

“Has this got anything to do with you not going to Jason’s house for the past few weeks and the black eye you had?”

Another thing she noticed—my black eye, but only because she had to buy me new glasses. But even then, she was too busy working, packing, and moving to ask about it when it mattered. Now, I don’t want to talk about it. I drop my spoon into my cereal bowl and stand, taking it to the sink. This trailer is pretty small, so the dining room and kitchen practically share the same space.

“Just forget it, Mom.”

“I was just curious. You boys have been friends for years, and I don’t remember a time when you weren’t there several times a week. I think you all need each other at a time like this.”

Need each other? I’ve fucking needed her.

Lifting her hands to my cheeks, she looks between my eyes, as if trying to look into my dimming soul. Maybe she just realized I’m her son and that I’ve been withering away. When she brushes her thumbs over my cheeks, I feel myself lean into them like the attention-starved fool I am.

“I’ve got to get going to work. You try to have a good day.”

She releases me with a sigh before heading for the front door, leaving me standing in the same spot. With gritted teeth, I clean up the kitchen, then decide enough is enough and force myself to get ready for a day of job searching in Shorewood. Between packing and moving, and getting my head around everything that happened, there haven’t been any opportunities to look for a job.

I’m just shutting the front door behind me when my phone vibrates in my pocket. For the briefest moment, my heart rate picks up, and the passing thought that it’s Sunflower makes my body buzz with anticipation until reality hits me in the face, and I remember that I won’t be hearing from her again.

My last several texts that included the words I’m sorry have remained understandably unanswered.

I did hear from Jason once, but I’m pretty sure he was messed up on something because the text didn’t make sense, and he never responded to what I’ve written in return.

Curious as to who it is since all my closest friends are no longer my closest friends, I pull my phone out to read the text.

Unknown number: Hey, this is Navi. I need to talk to you. Do you have time today?

My brows draw together, and I pause on the front stoop. I never gave her my number, so she must have asked Jason’s cousin for it. I doubt Jason would have handed it over.

A flash of misplaced anger makes me want to ignore the text and delete it, but I can’t blame her for what happened that night.

Unease prickles at the back of my neck after reading her message again. She needs to talk to me?

From what I remember, she was nice and all, but I’m not interested in a relationship with her, if that’s what she wants to talk about.

I read over the text again, noting the tone doesn’t seem to suggest she wants to get together like that, but she wants to see me, and that’s more than I’ve had from anyone lately. I save her number and type out a reply.

Me: Sure, I was just heading out and can meet you right away. Where?

Navi: Krema?

Krema is a little coffee shop in Plainfield and not exactly within walking distance. I glance back at the front door before replying. I think my dad is heading into town soon for some errands, so I could get a ride with him and maybe look for some jobs there instead of Shorewood. I send a reply and then head back inside to talk to my dad.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m sitting in Krema, cradling the coffee I ordered, but feeling too unsettled to drink it. I can’t for the life of me think of what she would need to talk to me about, and the longer I’ve had to wait, the more the tension in my shoulders grows.

I watch as people come and go, some looking at me with recognition. Yes, I’m one of the four boys who was friends with Jacob. There are murmurs and chattering, but the sounds around me are all background noise that I don’t really hear.

A few minutes later, a somewhat familiar face walks through the door to the coffee shop, and I realize it’s Navi, looking as anxious as I feel, wearing jeans and a cream sweater. As soon as her gaze lands on me, she makes her way over and drops into the chair across from me.

“Hey,” she greets with a forced smile before it disappears again.

“Hi.” I spin my drink around a few times on the table. “How’ve you been?”

Her brown skin looks a little paler than in my flashes of memory, but who knows what was real and what wasn’t from that night? She chews on her lip, staring at the table, before releasing a heavy exhale and meeting my eyes. “I’m not going to draw this out. I’m pregnant, and you’re the father.”

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