Page 115 of The Breaking Pointe
I sigh quietly, nodding.“Right.You aren’t a kid.Not anymore.” I look down, buttoning up my cardigan.
“Sometimes I feel like I still am.Like I don’t know what
I’m doing,” he says in a more certain and straight forward tone.
I look at him, seeing his look of discouragement.“It’s alright to feel that way, Steven.It happens to more people than you know. Me included.”
He glances at me, chugging the rest of the beer before wiping his mouth.
“Yeah,buthowdoyoumakeitstop?”heasks.
“I um…I don’t know,” I honestly respond.“I just know that you keep living until one day you do. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told.”
He throws the can away, leaning on the counter as we mosey around the island, allowing me to finish getting ready.
“It’s hard to do without Mom.”He taps the counter.
“It is.” I take a deep breath. “It’s really hard for me, too. When Dad passed, and now,” I say, grabbing my keys and wallet as I head to the closet for my jacket.
He stands in silence for a few seconds before speaking again.
Suddenly, he sheepishly asks. “Is it true? What people say he did?”
I look back at him sincerely, then at the closet, opening it and nodding. “Yeah.”
A bit of silence parlays between us again. I just can’t tell if it’s good silence.
“You saw it?” He begins to walk toward the door, waiting. “You saw the gun go off?”
I nod, putting my jacket on, closing the door, then walking over to him.
“Yes,” I say, putting everything in my pockets.
“Do you…think about it?” he mumbles.
We both look at each other, standing at the front door now. “Almost every day. As if I don’t have enough issues.” I weakly smile, watching his face stay stiff in disbelief.
“Whathedidwasn’tyourfault,Cole.”
“Yeah, well.” I clear my throat. “Look, Steve, it isn’t for you to dissect, okay?It’s something for me to deal with. Alone.”I shrug with my words, reaching for a bouquet of flowers on the table beside the front door—fresh from the flower shop this morning, specific to Noelle’s liking.
“You can’t always do everything alone,” he says with frustration. “Maybe when you understand that, you might start to enjoy life more.” He stands straight up now. “You push everybody away. Along with me. Stop doing that,” he scorns me before opening the front door, storming out.
As Dr.Lydia said, that did make me feel better.But it wasn’t the outcome I wanted—and I think that overshadows the goodness entirely.
I toss my head back,sighing as I follow him out thedoor, wishing I could snap my fingers and be at Noelle’s immediately.
29
friendsgiving
NOELLE
I’m always so excited to celebrate the holidays with family, friends, and delicious foods to pick from—but this year? I can’t bring myself to even be on time to meet everyone in my living room.
I bet people are asking where I am. They have no idea that I’m sitting on my bed, reciting the words of that ungodly notice from the building’s management company in my head. I wish it were a nightmare that I could wake up from. This nightmare doesn’t have an end though, it seems.I would like to think of other things, but it doesn’t feel okay to do when I have a group of little ballerinas depending on me to make sure they have a place to dance around and do what they love. It’s up to me to find a way to tell them that I can’t do that. The more I think it over, the more I consider how it may make me their first enemy in this lifetime.
When all I want is to see them come out on top.
