the broken

Chapter 15

MARCH, 2009

Phil

We had settled in for the night on the couch across from Dan, after a long argument that I had eventually won. I had insisted that that we needed to be close in case Dan needed help, Jamie had been pissed, insisted it was stupid, I told him I was staying down here with or without him, and he gave in. He had fallen asleep almost immediately, buried in my side, fingers still intertwined with mine despite the fact that he was pissed at me. His breathing is soft and his face looks infinitely more relaxed, no longer angry, just dreaming. I should feel happy, or upset, or something, with Jamie, but I don't. I feel... obligated. Obligated to love him, obligated to listen to him complain about Dan, obligated to let him walk over me, and I guess that's what I thought I wanted, but now I'm not sure.

I don't really know what I want.

I just want to do something.

I'm tired of trying to fall in love with someone, of trying to fall out of love with another.

I want to love Jamie like I love Dan, but I'm starting to realize I can't make my heart work like that, that I don't, and that maybe I never will, so here I am, sitting on my couch at two in the morning holding the hand of one boy and wishing it were the hand of another.

What a mess.

I feel wrong. Incomplete. My head is tangled and my heart pulls me in too many directions for me to do anything right.

Blinking sleepily, I fall into an uneasy sleep.

Dan

I watch Phil and Jamie together on the couch.

Every second makes my heart drop to my feet, but I am strangely entranced.

I can't look away.

Like a car crash I can't take my eyes off of.

There's something alluring about the destruction of my heart.

I can feel Phil's eyes trained on me, and I'm glad for the pillow that hides my eyes from his line of vision because I know my heart is written on my face and I don't think I have the strength to put it behind a mask right now.

I want nothing more than to get off the couch and climb onto his lap and curl up in his arms and trace the freckles on his skin and feel safe, let him play with my hair and tell me everything can be okay, but instead I lock up that ache inside of me, inside my box of fragile things.

Why am I here?

Why am I lying on Phil's couch, pretending to sleep while Phil watches over me, not out of love, but out of pity. Why am I spinning fantasy worlds in my head where things change, where Phil could love me and the bad could go away? Why do I think I'll ever be anything but a spill for someone to clean up, a puppet for people to play voodoo with. I am nothing but the bruises and the blood and the broken bones, so why am I pretending anything changes. I shouldn't be here, have no reason to, yet here I am, lying on Phils couch and breathing heavy.

How pathetic.

Eventually, Phil's breathing slows, and I feel his eyes slide off of me. Gingerly, I untangle myself from the couch and tiptoe to my room.

I perch myself in the window.

Even the moon is covered tonight, the night sky an intricate tangle of dark grey.

The clouds are heavy and tired, like me.

The lights of the city twinkle dimly, and somehow, the whispers of the wind and the outlines of buildings cast a spell on me, so there I remain for the rest of the night, entranced.

Hours later, I feel a hand on my shoulder. Startled, I jump, and turn around I am face to face with blue blue eyes Way too close. I am way too close. My heart pounds in my bones, so fast that I feel nauseous.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Fine," I say dismissively, turning back to the window, trying to steady myself, calm down. The storm inside of me rages on, and the thought of having to try to pretend more feels so hard.

I'm so tired. God, I'm so tired.

All of a sudden, arms wrap around my shoulders and I am being pulled backwards, and then I am somehow sitting on Phil's lap, with his arms around me and his head leaning against mine. My lungs forget how to breathe.

"Are you sure, bear? I'm worried."

"U..um."

All I can feel are his warm hands and his hair tickling my neck and the sound of his heart beating underneath his skin. He seems to be waiting for an answer, but I'm not sure that my lips are able to choke one out.

Finally:

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He sighs, and I can feel his breath on the back of my neck.

"I don't think that's true, Dan, but I don't know how to get you to tell me whats wrong and I'm scared to break you."

We are both silent, listening to each other breathe.

We are a puzzle that can't be put together, but for just a minute, it feels okay.

Phils hands find mine, hold them, give them a reassuring squeeze. He unwraps his arms from around me, eyes scanning my face.

"You should get ready for school," he says simply, and with that, he is gone, leaving me sitting there dumbly.

I don't know how to deal with this, with him, with my heart, and I swing my fist in frustration at the wall, letting my arm swing around at the last minute, falling to my side pathetically, still clenched into a fist.

I run my hands through my hair in frustration before tiredly starting my usual routine of getting ready. 

It is not until the middle of the day that I wake up.

"Daniel?"

I look up, startled to see that I'm in class, that my feet had carried me on autopilot through my day, despite the fact that I'd been too lost in my head to be among the living.

"I need to speak to you after class, please."

I nod confusedly as she walks back up to the front and resumes the lesson. The bell finally rings, and I slowly gather my books and shuffle to the front of the room. The teacher looks up.

"Oh, Daniel, yes. I just wanted to speak to you your absences about this past week, I'm worried you'll fall behind."

I shake my head quickly, cheeks red with embarrassment. I miss a lot of school but I've always been smart, and I'm usually good at maintaining my grades.

"I won't let myself get behind, sorry."

She nods curtly. dismissive and quiet, and I quickly turn on my heels and walk out the door. Right into Ryan.

"Oh hey, freak, I was just looking for you!"

His voice is too cheerful and it hurts my head and he pulls me by the arm down the hallway, and I am too tired to feel scared, feel dread, feel anything. I let the big bad wolf take a bite.

a/n thingy: this chapter went absolutely nowhere i'm so sorry, i felt like writing but as soon as i sat down, all i could think about was frustration so i just kind of channeled my frustration into dan and phil's frustration???? idk