The Arrangement Anthology 1(80)

Smiling, I say, “Glass doesn’t just break—”

“Well, it did. Damn, Avery. Back off. Shit breaks sometimes.” Marty keeps walking, taking his long strides, but I stop. He’s never spoken to me like that before. Marty is always all gossip and smiles. He never raises his voice. If he swears, it’s for drama. He’s never sounded like that before. I find myself standing still and my feet won’t move.

After a few paces Marty stops. Looking at the dead grass beneath his shoes, he says, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” His voice trails off. Lifting his gaze slowly, Marty looks at me. There’s something there, something that doesn’t make sense. He’s looking at me with this raw expression on his face, like I was the one who shoved the broken beaker into his hand and made him bleed.

“It’s been a rough couple of days.” He smiles at me and whatever I thought I saw is gone, concealed behind the mask of smiles and laughter. “I’ll take care of this on my own. If you could go back and grab my books, that’d be great. I’ll get them from you at breakfast, okay?” Although his tone makes it sound like he’s asking me, I know he isn’t. For some reason Marty doesn’t want me around right now.

Confused, I nod. I wonder what I did that bothered him like this. I can’t think of anything, but I don’t press him. “Sure. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll finish up the work and turn it in, too. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Marty nods curtly. He turns and walks away without looking back.





CHAPTER 6



The night seems to take forever. It seems like the sun will never rise. I get up before dawn. I can’t sleep anyway. I pull on jeans and a sweatshirt.

As I yank my hair back into a sloppy ponytail, Amber stirs. She groans, “Where are you going, freak? It’s not even 6:00am.”

“Go back to bed, Skankzilla.” I glance at her. Amber isn’t really awake. I doubt she’ll even remember talking to me. I yank on my sneakers as she rolls back over and disappears under her covers. I wish I could sleep like that, but I can’t. I hardly sleep at all anymore. There are too many thoughts racing through my head, too many memories that flash just as I close my eyes. My body aches, tired from lack of sleep—tired from life.

Grabbing my wallet, I shove it in my back pocket, take my book bag, and fish my keys out of my purse. I walk down the hall alone. No one is awake. The kids that stay up forever are passed out somewhere. The only sound I hear is the hum of the florescent lights overhead. Adjusting my bag on my shoulder, I run down the flights of stairs, and push open the door.

Frigid air blasts me in the face. It feels like I walked into a freezer. I welcome the onslaught of sensations, the way the air pricks my skin, stinging it. It reminds me that I’m alive and I need that right now, I need that today.

After getting my car started, I drive to the beach. I’m not searching for the lost necklace today. That’s not what this is about. I need to hear the waves and feel the sand. I need the peace that eludes me and I know that I can find it there, despite everything that’s happened to me.

The roads are fairly empty once I hit Ocean Parkway. No one goes to the beach this early, not when it’s freezing outside. I shiver in my car, as I drive along, watching sea and sand fly by my window. It isn’t until I pull into Field 5 and step out of my car that I feel like I can relax a little. It’s too cold. I know I can’t stay long, but I can’t shake the crushing grief. It snuck up on me in the middle of the night and wouldn’t let go. For some reason, sitting and watching the waves makes me feel better. This is my security blanket, the one thing that makes me feel better even on the worst days.

I walk onto the sand and head toward the water. Glancing up and down the beach, I see no one. Seagulls screech overhead and fly away when they see I have no food. I sit on the dry sand and stare out at the waves. The sea is smooth today, like a sheet of black glass. It laps at the shore, almost hugging it as if they were friends. Solace finds me and an unexplainable inner-warmth swirls within my stomach.

Everything will be okay.

I stare, unblinking at the sea, allowing the wind to chill my skin until it’s numb. I wrap my arms around my knees and pull them to my chest, locking my fingers. I breathe, and blink. Sometimes it’s the little things that help me get through the big things. Taking one moment at a time, one breath at a time. It seems manageable, even when my life is not.

The sun is creeping over the horizon, lazily spilling orange and pink streaks across the sky. It isn’t until the sun is halfway up that I see someone dressed in a heavy coat down the beach. They’re standing so far away that I can’t see their face. The man is speck on the horizon, a black dot in a warm coat.