Page 31 of All My Broken Pieces

Staring into her hazel eyes, I gulp down one more drink of liquid courage and nod my head. Ava’s forehead creases, but she doesn’t say anything, giving me the space to gather my thoughts.

“Things were fine. Logan was…nice.” I shrug, chewing on my lip again. “Actually, I kinda had fun.” I admit, guilt eating me up at the admittance.

Ava offers me a small smile, continuing her soothing strokes on my hand.

Taking a deep breath, I press on. “We finished dinner and he drove me here and, um…” I trail off, squeezing my eyes shut.

It wasn’t cheating. We’re not together anymore.

It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself it, I can’t help how I feel.

“He kissed me.” I whisper, ducking my head and hiding behind my hair.

Ava doesn’t say anything, the room falling to a heavy silence as she processes both my words and reaction. After several long moments, she squeezes my hand, waiting for me to look up before quietly asking, “Did you like it?”

Ava knows. She knows how I felt about her, how I feel about Arriana, how I’ve always felt about members of my same sex. But we’ve never talked about it, not really.

Something about having to form the words, to admit the truth out loud, it’s too much.

“It’s a phase.”

A tear slips down my cheek as I shake my head.

Ava’s eyes soften as she lets go of my hand and swipes away the teardrop. “That’s okay, babe.” She reassures me.

I shake my head again, setting down my mug a little more forcefully than I mean to. Leaping back to avoid the coffee that spilled over the side, I throw my hands up in the air. “Is it though?” I cry, all of my desperate feelings crashing into me, a storm of confusion raging inside.

Ava silently grabs a kitchen towel from its hanger on the island and wipes up the spilled coffee. I watch her clean up my mess and it makes me angry.

It’s my fault.

Gripping my hair at my scalp, I pull hard as I swallow down a frustrated shriek.

Why can’t I be normal?

The thoughts swirl in my head. The desire to be the perfect child, to do theright thing. The need to make everyone else happy.

“But what about me?” I mumble the words out loud. “Wh-why can’t I have what makesmehappy?” Looking up at my concerned friend, my voice breaks as I sob, “Why is that sowrong?” What little energy I had left escapes with the question, an deep exhaustion settling into my bones. Sinking my head into my hands, I give into the painful ache and let the tears flow freely down my cheeks.

“Oh, Fallon.” Ava breathes, dropping the towel and coming around to wrap me up in her arms. “What will make you happy?” She asks, squeezing me tight against her.

I hiccup, shaking my head. “It do-doesn’t matter.” I mumble miserably. Because it doesn’t. It never has.

“Hey.” She snaps, holding me out at arms length to level me with a stern look. “It does fucking matter. And whatever it is, we’re going to make it happen. Do you hear me?”

My lips tremble as I nod my head, willing the words to be true. I want so desperately to be happy, to stop this aching emptiness inside of me.

Ava’s expression softens as she returns my nod. “Okay, good.” Rubbing her hands up and down my arms, she insists, “Now, tell me what you want.”

Taking a deep breath, I slowly release it as I feel something click inside of me.

I can’t keep doing this.

The right thing can’t feel this wrong.

The thought feels like an answer. Like I’ve finally gotten a response to my desperate pleas.

The right thing can’t feel this wrong.

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