Page 73 of Shattered

He’s not well. Of course he isn’t. Grief isn’t fleeting; it’s a relentless ache that claws at you day and night. Nothing aligns anymore. Life fractures into senseless fragments. People blur into shadows. Everything crumbles around you into nothings.

Tray explained briefly what happened to Bexley. An overdose.

Intentional? Uncertain.

They took Bexley’s body for an autopsy but there are no results yet. Daxton discovered Brayden, desperately performing CPR, pleading for life. Trayton holds extreme resentment toward Daxton, but I know blame is a lifeline we grasp when emotions surge and grief weigh us down.

Kal said if I step one foot in the trailer, he will call the dean and tell him everything. I don’t know what he knows, but he made it clear he would act on his threat. I know through staff room whispers that Kal Jacob can have someones job taken away with a snap of finger.

But the thing is, I’ve sat here the last twenty-four hours and asked myself: Do I really care about my job? And I don’t know. I thought I found my love in teaching. I thought it was my escape from the black hole I fell into, but last night I realized something. It wasn’t the teaching that pulled me out of that black hole. It wasn’t the teaching I fell in love with.

It was Brayden all along who entered my darkness.

He became the love I never anticipated, the light that pierced my shadows. And now I sit here, still not moving, still not being in there to bear his pain because I know if Kal does ring the dean, it’s not only me it affects. What could Brayden lose? Could he lose his hockey, his scholarship? Would Kal really do that?

Opening up my phone, I see multiple missed calls from the school, from Denny, but I can’t talk to them. I can’t explain why I’m not at the school. My finger scrolls down my contacts until I stop and hover over the one person that knows how to help me when everything comes crashing down. Who has always picked me up and put the pieces back together again. I click on the name and the call connects.

“Hello,” I force myself to say, trying to sound more positive than I actually am.

“Boh,” Cash drags out, his tone cautious. “What’s happened?” he says immediately after. It’s my fault that Cash and I have grown apart, but there’s one thing about him. He is an exceptional older brother. He has a knack for sensing when something is wrong.

“Everything,” I say with a sigh. I’m already starting to feel a sense of relief as the world becomes less heavy.

“Talk to me, Brother.” There’s a rustling noise, followed by the sound of a door shutting.

“Are you certain you are able to speak?” I question. The last thing I want is to be talking to him while he’s with someone, especially Rylee. I adore Rylee, but she’d refuse to let this go and wouldn’t settle for the limited details I’d provide. Until I admitted everything and proved what a hypocrite I was, she would continue to hound me.

“Sure, no problem,” he says hastily. “I’m heading out for a walk. Rylee is working from home and I’m getting the impression this isn’t something you want anyone knowing, even one of your most favorite people.” He laughs.

“Thanks, Bro. you’re right. I love Ry, but—”

“If she suspected something was happening with you, she would be relentless and might even fly to Michigan.”

I can’t help but laugh, as he obviously knows Rylee better than anyone else. Silence fills the call as I listen to Cash’s footstepsand the gentle breeze that filters through the speaker. Cash doesn’t pressure me to talk, he simply waits for me to take the lead. I sink further into my seat, raking my fingers through my hair. I can’t find the right words, but this is why I called Cash. I don’t need to filter my thoughts around him. I can speak my mind and he will always listens.

“Did you attempt to fight when you realized you had feelings for Rylee? Even though you knew it was wrong?” The sound of Cash taking a deep breath reaches my ears. I realize he likely doesn’t want to address this, particularly given my actions involving him and Rylee, but even though it’s not identical, it’s comparable.

“Of course.” He speaks in a whisper, burdened by the guilt that I know plagues him. “I’ve always considered Rylee to be amazing. I acted the way I did because I found her incredible and it made me uncomfortable. Lines felt blurred on my part when I got to know her after Jace introduced her to me.” He exhales a laugh with a huff. “Although it might sound messed up, pushing her away and treating her poorly felt like the right decision, and I still believe it was the right decision at that moment.” It’s clear that he is being cautious in selecting his words. “When we lost Jace.” Cash falls silent.

The mere mention of losing Jace feels like knives tearing at my heart. It causes physical pain, and it’s clear that Cash is feeling the same way based on his silence.

I manage to utter the word, “Cash.” My voice is barely audible. “Forget about it, I—”

“No. Whatever this is about, I want to be there for you and help you talk it out,” he rushes out before continuing, “Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t as people thought. I wasn’t waiting on the sidelines for her. Fuck. I thought Jace was going to marry her and that filled me with so much joy, Boh.” He would have if he wasn’t taken from us.

“I fought hard, Boh, words can’t describe it. I fought with every bit of strength I had. Guess I’m weak as fuck, Boh, because I have never fallen for someone so easily.” His voice cracks toward the end. “I tried my best to avoid being near her, but the reality is, she needed me as much as I needed her. We mourned as one, blending our pain and supporting each other, Boh.”

“Do you recall the moment you knew?”

“The moment I knew I couldn’t live without her and would do anything to keep her by my side?”

Softly, I respond with a whisper, “Yeah.”

“It’s when Matthew Richardson had the nerve to make her laugh, a real laugh. The thought of someone else bringing her happiness instead of me made me feel like my heart was stabbed. In that moment, I understood she was mine, regardless of her acceptance.” As Cash’s words linger, we sit in peaceful silence, lost in thought. The very notion of Brayden confiding in anyone else about his grief makes me sick to my stomach.

I stare at the trailer door, and my stomach turns knowing it should be me in there, not Kal, not Tray. Me. The idea of someone else being the reason for his smile makes me want to rip this state apart.

I’m so fucked.

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