Page 20 of Tiny Fractures

“Better?” I say with a chuckle.

“Much.” He nods and pulls his shirt over his head, then drops it to the floor by his feet where it joins the boots I pulled off him last night. He unbuttons his jeans, which is my cue to head back into my own room.

I make my bed, take my sweaty gym clothes to toss them in the hamper, and walk back downstairs with a basket full of my dirty clothes. I head through the kitchen and into the garage to start a load of laundry.

Sunday, May 23rd

Cat

Time is a funny thing, isn’t it? When you want it to slow down—either because you’re living some of your best moments or because you know something dreadful is coming up—it seemingly speeds up, whereas when you want it to pass quickly, it tends to drag on and on.

This past month has flown by, and so this weekend I’ve found myself holed up in my room, poring over textbooks, class notes, outlines, and little index cards, studying for final exams next week before summer finally kicks off.

I take the occasional break to grab a snack, text Vada, Tori, or my friend Julie, and around three in the afternoon I finally put my stuff away. I feel drained, my brain no longer able to store any additional information about isotopes or the half-life of uranium.

I stand and take a look around my still-bare room. Since moving here almost six weeks ago I’ve moved my bedroom and desk three times, trying to maximize the small space. There are still boxes I haven’t unpacked, and I make a note to spend some time this summer organizing my room and making it cozier.

The ringing of my phone draws my attention away from my plans. I answer Julie’s call, spending a good thirty minutes chatting about our current goings-on. I also fill her in on my mom’s plan to head home to North Carolina in a couple of weeks to spend some time with my dad and siblings. I’m both excited and nervous to be back there.

“It’ll be totally alright,” Julie reassures me. “You know Nate and I got your back, right? Screw Adam and his posse.”

Anxiety bubbles up in my stomach. “It’s not just Adam, it’s literally everyone in town.”

“Cat, first of all, it’s not everyone. And secondly, you did nothing wrong!”

I shake my head with my phone to my ear because I have a hard time believing her. Julie has always been my biggest supporter, but even she couldn’t save me from the vitriol that was spewed at me from so many people before my mom finally decided to remove me from the situation.

“Things have simmered down. And it’ll be so fun to have you home for a few days. I miss you!”

“I miss you, too.” I really do. I miss my friends, I miss my dad, my sister and brother.

The door to my room opens and my mom brings in a basket of clean, folded laundry that she sets down in front of my bed. My eyes immediately find the dark-green sweater—folded neatly atop the rest of my clothes—and my heart gives an unexpected jolt as my thoughts turn away from my conversation with Julie to Ronan. I haven’t really spent any time with him since meeting him at his brother’s birthday party a few weeks ago, only crossing paths with Ronan at school here and there, but I’ve inadvertently found myself thinking of him at random times, which always throws me off.

I’ve run into him at school and we’ve stopped to chat for a few minutes between classes. Just last week, actually, I stepped out of my French class to use the restroom and bumped into Ronan in the hallway. That strange flutter immediately expanded in my stomach, especially when he looked up at me as I approached him at the water fountain.

“Ditching class again?” Ronan chuckled.

I grinned. “You know it. You?”

“Obviously,” Ronan laughed. “What class do you have right now?”

“French. With Ms. Trudeaux.”

Ronan made a face. “And all you got yourself was a hall pass? You need to fake sick and just go to the nurse’s station.”

“It’s not so bad,” I giggled.

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled.

“How about you? What class are you escaping?” I was enjoying our banter way too much, and I knew it.

“History,” he told me so dryly that I had to laugh yet again, which made him smile in turn. “My plan is to slowly drink about a gallon of water from this fountain, praying for time to pass so I don’t have to go back in there. I’m pretty sure boredom can be a cause of death.”

“Sounds terrible,” I told him with a grin.

“Take the damn class and find out for yourself. Or, actually, maybe don’t take it. I wouldn’t want you to die of boredom, or anything, actually.” His eyes met mine, the air between us crackling for a moment.

We were interrupted by a girl who approached us and struck up a conversation with Ronan, her tone flirty, suggestive. So I simply waved goodbye and made my way to the restroom.

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