Fragile

Chapter 2

I didn't remember my life before the age of eight. I assumed that before I was in that basement I had seen the outside world, but I couldn't remember it. I didn't remember having a father, and the mother I knew, I couldn't remember her face. 

Until I turned sixteen, I had only left that basement 3 times. The first time, I had to be hospitalized for pneumonia. The second, appendicitis. The third was a failed attempt to flee. Shortly after, the basement had been invaded by child protective services, and my mother was never to be seen again. 

I stayed in a hospital a year after that. My immune system was pretty much nonexistent, so it was unsafe for me to stay anywhere else until I could be fully vaccinated. I didn't speak much for that first year, but the nurses took turns tutoring me during their rounds. I couldn't remember ever attending school, so even basic algebra was new to me. 

One of the nurses that tutored me was named Lucinda, Lucy for short. They said she had a bleeding heart, a tendency to be extra nurturing to kids. Six months of me staying in the hospital, she had told me her daughter died in a car accident at around the same age I was. I reminded Lucy of her dead daughter.  

Lucy had straw like blonde hair, always in a bun. Her eyes wrinkled at the corners when she smiled. She always smelled like strawberries. I knew because the first time I ever smelled strawberries was in that hospital. She brought me fruit often. She brought books for me to study, told me that if I worked hard enough, I could even get my GED. 

It didn't bother Lucy that I was mute. In my silence, she always filled it with stories and kind encouraging words. If I didn't understand something, I tapped my pencil twice against the table. If I did, only one tap. All the nurses were in awe by my progress. They asked me if I never had studied before, truly. I didn't say anything, not just because I was mute, but because I didn't remember. I knew how to read and write before I was admitted, so that meant I had some education, right? 

I was discharged after that year, though I didn't want to leave. I didn't understand the outside world, I didn't know social cues, I didn't know where to live or what to do. Back then, I remembered grabbing Lucy's scrubs, pleading to let me stay. 

"Don't let them take me," I had said. My voice had been wheezy and raspy from disuse, but she knew exactly what I had meant. She gave me a small smile and gently laid her hand on top of mine. 

"You are always welcome here, Fay. So be strong and join the rest of the world. We are rooting for you." 

She didn't know I was fragile. She didn't know that strength was something only certain people had. Even though I knew she didn't understand, I still felt myself relax my muscles. She told me I wasn't alone. Surely, after a year of caring for me, she wasn't the bad people my mother told me about? 

I stayed in an orphanage the last year of my adolescence. I was homeschooled, as I still wasn't clear on social cues and such. There I learned as hard as I could, got my GED. Lucy even helped me with college applications. 

"The foster system will pay for your college, it would be a waste not to use it," she had told me. "You're so smart, Fay. In two years, you learned 12 years worth of schooling. With the right education, you could be amazing." 

Then I got my acceptance letter, and within a few more months I stood at my state university in Colorado, walking with my roommate to our first class. 

"I'm so nervous," Kiera said as we walked, arms linked. "It feels like my whole life I've waited for this moment." 

"Me too." Lies. But I had to fit in. I had to be normal, like other people. If they found out I was fragile, they'd eat me up, just like my mother had warned. 

I sensed him before I saw him. As if I had a radar for danger, Noah Pierce always lit up every signal I possessed. The hairs on my arms stood up. What was that called? Goosebumps. Right. 

His eyes tracked Kiera and me as we both took seats by the window. I was grateful for the air. After experiencing fresh air for two years, the thought of being in an enclosed space again made my heart constrict. 

"Who knew Noah was in our class?" Kiera whisper-squealed. "God, he's even hotter up close." 

Noah was only a few desks over. Granted, I didn't want him sitting behind me, but being in close proximity wasn't better. Plus, I didn't want Kiera to see I was afraid. Revealing weaknesses was something I couldn't afford. 

"Do you like him?" I didn't mean for it to come out blunt, but she seemed startled at how straightforward I was. 

She smiled, allowing me to relax. "He's definitely my type. I love a sexy mystery." 

My cheeks heated up at her words. "Sounds... intimate." 

She let out a tiny laugh. "I didn't realize you were so innocent, Fay," she teased. 

My cheeks got redder. "Am not," I said, but it came out as a pout. 

"I'm just teasing, it's not a bad thing. It's cute," she said, patting my shoulder. 

Wasn't innocent another word for naive? Another word for weak? How was that not a bad thing?

"Morning, everyone," The professor's voice boomed, and class began. 

Throughout the entire period, Noah's gaze never strayed from me.