Broken

• Chapter 162 •

Mom and I sat silently at dinner, picking at the food with a lost appetite. Mom downed the tasty waters of oblivion in understandable doses. Small talk was attempted, but it felt forced and unnatural. Once we finished, she congratulated me once more. And then we went our separate ways. Me to my room, and her to hers. This is how things were for the next few days.

"Clementine?"

I sit up on my bed, "Yeah?"

Mom clears her throat, "Do you want to come pick up your siblings from the hospital with me?"

I stare at her blankly. I'd forgotten about them altogether. "No thanks. I've got... Stuff, to do," I mumble.

She sighs, then shakes her head, "Okay... I'll be back soon."

She leaves, and I go back to doing nothing. I lay back on my bed and stare at the ceiling. And I do nothing. I feel nothing. I simply... Exist. Until the doorbell goes off. I frown, how long have I been staring at the ceiling?

I stand and shuffle to the front door, my frown deepens when I find Aya at the door.

"Aya... What're you doing here?"

She shrugs, "You've been avoiding my calls and not responding to my texts. I don't have any other friends! You can't ignore me!"

I press my lips together, "Sorry. I've been... Busy."

She rolls her eyes at me, "Doing what? Sleeping? Doing nothing?"

"What do you want, Aya?" I snap.

She shows me an airplane ticket, "You're coming to Amsterdam with me."

I shake my head, "I don't think so. I've got a lot to take care of here—"

"Shut up, no you don't!" she cuts me off, "We're only going for a week. You'll have plenty of time to not do anything for the rest of the summer. You need to get your mind off things... Maybe have some fun? We just graduated... I'm worried about you. I know it's been hard, babe. But I really think this trip will be fun—"

"Aya. Jesus. I don't fucking want to go to Amsterdam, I don't need your pity trip, and I don't need to lighten up, right now. I can do whatever the fuck I want to, it's not your place to tell me to get over something—"

She frowns, "I'm your friend, Clementine! Stop shutting people out! If you're in pain, talk to me about it! Or don't, and pig out with me while you're sad! Point is let me be here for you! Please, I care about you!"

The words at the tip of my tongue dissipate, and I'm left with nothing to say. I just stare at her.

She sighs after a long time, "I'm telling you, you could use it. We'll probably be high most of the time, roaming the beautiful streets of Amsterdam!" she shakes her head, "Just think about it..." she sets the ticket down on the counter before letting herself out.

Mom comes home with the twins soon after and puts them to bed. She seems happier than I've seen her since his death, but at the same time, she's the saddest I've seen her. I suppose she's happy that her babies are finally in her arms. However, the memory of her dead husband hangs heavily in the air now more than ever.

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"So, what're their names?"

"Grace and Stephen," she tells me.

I cock my head, "Grace after grandma?"

She nods, "She was the most important woman in your dad's life, alongside us, of course."

"And Stephen after grandpa, who's not actually my grandpa?" I deadpan.

She shoots me a look. She's been very much against me meeting her real dad, Byrnes, or having any type of relationship with him. She stopped working with him when she found out he was her father.

"How do you feel?"

She glances down at her bullet-wound and shrugs, "I'm all right," then she looks at me and realizes I was asking about the twins. She shakes her head, "I'm happy. I've been waiting for these babies for nine months, you know... I just—"

She presses her lips into a flat line and looks down at the floor in pain, then she snaps out of it, "Nothing."

She doesn't want to talk to me about how she's feeling, but she doesn't need to. I already know, she feels just as empty as I do.

She clears her throat, "So... When are you moving to New York?"

I shrug, "I—I don't know... When do you think I should?"

"That's up to you, sweetheart. Weren't you planning a trip with your friend, or something?" she asks me.

I sigh, "I don't know..."

"You should go. It'll be fun. You deserve some fun. He would've wanted you to have fun after your graduation," she nods encouragingly.

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"Call me as soon as you land."

"CLEMENTINE! OVER HERE!"

I turn back to see Aya flaying her arms around like a retard. I turn back to mom, "Kay... See you in a week."

"Have a safe flight," mom nods.

I pick up my bag and walk over to Aya, who's standing in line to board. "I knew you'd come through," she tells me. "No one says no to Amsterdam, or me," she shrugs.

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"IT'S SO DAMN PRETTY!" she screams as we set our bags down in the hotel room.

The flight was long, and I was restless the entire time. I need to get to bed and stay in it.

"You need a drink," she turns to me. I shake my head, "No... I'm just really tired. I'm going to bed. Don't want a hangover when you drag me sightseeing tomorrow, anyway," I attempt to lighten my mood.

She scoffs and nods, "Okay, babe. Goodnight."

I sigh when she walks into the bathroom. I sit at the edge of my bed and shake my head. I should try to have fun, this is Amsterdam. I know Aya's just trying to get closer to me and make me feel better, but I can't change the numbness, the emptiness. Still, I don't want to drag her mood down with me. I sigh deeply when I decide to try to have a good time.

Starting tomorrow...