Page 9 of Broken

"Was I wrong?"

"Good point." I sipped my coffee slowly. It was fresh and hot. Mia's parents never used Mr. Coffee, they always preferred the simple 'natural' process of fresh grounds and a French press. I needed to remember to buy myself a small grinder and French press for home.

"Anyway, I forgive you. I don't think you did the right thing, it hurt, and I feel like I deserved more than a single letter once a year, but whatever. It's done and over, and for the sake of our lifelong friendship,

I hope you will keep in touch better now."

The blackness of my coffee called to the darkness that stirred in me. True to her nature, Mia was quick to forgive me. No questions asked, giving me a clean slate, and so full of hope for the two of us picking up where we left off. I wasn't sure how well I'd hold up to the last part about keeping in touch after I left here, but I would deal with it later. For now, I needed Mia's light; I needed my star to guide me through this darkness.

"Deal," I said, still looking into my mug.

"You're still the shittiest liar I've ever met."

"Whatever. I'd eventually show up." The eye roll came automatically.

"Honestly, I expected you to drive into town, burn the place down and take off." The thought hadn't occurred to me, but as Mia spoke the words, the little pyromaniac who lived inside me perked up at the idea.

"I had that option?" I gave her a conspirator’s grin.

As though she thought I actually considered committing arson, Mia set her mug on the little round table her mother spent years reading

cards on, and locked eyes with me. "As much as I would love to see the

place in ashes, I don't think we would get away with it now, Babes."

"That's kinda why I came here, rather than break a window in the

house and break in. To be honest, I'm not interested in jail time."

We caught up with each other over coffee; I told her about my career in the hotel business, and she told me about a guy she was seeing. He was older, and she wasn't ready to give much more information. She said she didn't know what they were yet, it was fun, and she was happy. They were more like fuck buddies or friends with benefits than anything serious.

Subconsciously, I smoothed out my hair. What had she meant earlier about my hair? I liked my hair. Her comment had me self-conscious. It didn't have its natural wave, a huge thanks to whoever invented the flatiron, but I thought my hair looked professional, grown up.

Without warning, Mia burst into laughter. I swear she almost fell out of her seat. I quirked my eyebrow in question. "Babes, your hair is amazing. I love how your natural color is back." She reassured me, apparently noticing my fidgeting.

After finishing the small carafe of coffee, we rinsed out the mugs and the French press, just like in high school, and she offered to drive me to my mother's old house. A small pang of guilt hit my gut when I explained that I'd most likely be returning straight to my hotel room from the house so it would be better if I drove myself.

Today I wanted to check out the house, and see what needed to be done, so I could find a realtor by Monday. I gave myself a week to do everything I needed to do, but if I could wrap things up sooner and get back to Aine I would.

five

Sinclair

IfollowedbehindMia'ssilvery blue Honda Civic, the back windshield covered in band stickers, likely from all the concerts she went to over the years. Mia always music spoke to her soul. Through songs and melodies, our souls communicated.

As kids, we would listen to music in her room and sing along, while fantasizing about our futures. My fantasies back then differed from the reality of my life now, but a lot happened between the days of Debbie Gibson, Boys 2 Men, NKOTB, and now.

Freshman year we dragged her parents' old record player into her room and would sneak into her parents' weed stash and get stoned out of our minds while trying to figure out the meaning behind Pink Floyd's The Wall. Until we knocked over the record player sneaking Kai and Adam in after midnight one night.

Our weekends together went on for three years. Until the night I let him down, that night changed everything. I pushed the memories out of my head. I would not think about that now. I would not dredge up those demons. Once that box opened, it could not be closed.

My mother's house, the house that birthed all my nightmares. The one place in the world I could do without ever seeing again, and I drove straight for it.

They were fighting again; I hated when they fought. Dad has to leave for work tomorrow, and he'll be gone for a week. He worked on a road construction crew holding the signs. Any money he made, went to their habits though.

The house was shit. Broken fixtures and utilities left unpaid most months. I know because of all the times I went to Mias to eat with her and Tess, or snuck into Kai's window, because the gas was off till mom paid the bill, or we didn't have groceries.

Today they fought because Mia’s mom took me to school shopping today. She bought me most of what I needed to begin the year. She always made sure

---