The Missing Piece

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The Missing Piece Page 25

by Jessica Baxter


  “I'm so—“ I start apologizing again, but Danielle holds up her hand and shakes her head.

  “Will you stop apologizing?” She laughs. “I'm not upset or angry. This school year has been a roller coaster of emotions and it's had some lows, but it's also been the best year I've had, too. I gained a new friend and Cooper.” A big grin spreads across her face. “So, if anything I should be thanking you.”

  My face scrunches up. “Why would you thank me?”

  She nudges my shoulder. “You helped me find the courage to ask Cooper out.”

  “I did?”

  I run my fingers through the sand, letting it cover my hand completely.

  “Mhm, now it's my turn to give you a nudge. Ask Ian out.”

  Her boldness catches me off guard. “I . . . uh, what?”

  “Ask him out,” Danielle says again.

  “I-I can't . . . things are too complicated. I don't even know where we stand anymore or . . . if he even likes me.”

  Danielle rolls her eyes and laughs.

  “Please,” she says. “Ian's never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. He looks at you the way he looks at brand-new Batman graphic novels, and you look at him like you've just won tickets to Disney World and get to be the only person in the park. It's obvious he's crazy about you and you're crazy about him, too. So what are you waiting for?”

  .

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The first day of classes after Thanksgiving break is hideous. I sleep in, skip breakfast and somehow still manage to make it late to geology. Ian refuses to look at me when I take my normal seat across from him; everyone else whispers and stares. Only Ian and I know exactly what happened over the break, but that doesn't stop all the rumors from spreading.

  “I heard Emily likes it rough.”

  “She is such a slut. I bet she'll sleep with anyone.”

  “I heard she paid someone to fight Ian.”

  I duck my head and try my best to ignore the lies filling the air like toxic waste, and instead, spend the period scribbling doodles in my notebook. I sneak a glance at Ian, trying to catch his eye, but he won't look at me. His chair is pushed as far away from me as possible and that hurts.

  I will him to look at me. He shifts in his chair and I think he's going to turn my way, but he just leans back and stretches. He looks exhausted. His eyes are so heavy he can barely keep them open and his head keeps nodding back and forth.

  How is it possible that even when Ian's sleep-deprived, he's still breathtakingly beautiful?

  I release a deep sigh, and Ian's eyes flicker to my face. Hope—it's faint like the light from a single candle in a room covered by darkness, but it's there. He's not going to control my happiness, anymore, but I'm determined to get to the bottom of this and figure out why we're no longer talking.

  I quickly jot Pizza & a movie? in my notebook and then push it towards him. Pain dances across his face as he reads my message. He scribbles back a reply. My heart leaps in my chest.

  There's a 50/50 chance he said no, but my heart swells with joy that his message might say that sweet three-lettered word I long to hear. I'm overjoyed as he pushes the notebook back. I close my eyes and say a quick prayer. The bell is going to ring any second and we'll walk to our next class together and things will finally be back to normal. I force my eyes open and glance at my notebook; my vision goes in and out of focus as I read his reply:

  I can't.

  Danielle isn't in the classroom when Mrs. Merrill divides us into groups for an in-class project, so I get stuck with Chelsea. She sneers at me like a feral animal as I gather my books and move over to the table she's sitting at. “God, you are such a little slut.” She says, as soon as I reach the table. Her voice is loud and harsh. I ignore her, instead I open the book and scan the pages of my textbook.

  We need to find a nonprofit organization that we'd like to “raise” money for—of course, the money isn't real. Then we need to create a campaign and present it to the class in one week. Everyone else pretends to be entranced by their textbooks, but I can feel their gazes flickering towards us.

  “What charity should we choose?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

  She rolls her eyes. “I knew you were desperate, but I didn't think you were that desperate.”

  “We could choose this animal shelter in downtown Los Angeles or this restaurant that gives food to the home—“

  “What I can't wrap my head around,” Chelsea says, “is why you'd think Ian would want anything to do with you. I mean, even after—”

  “What are you talking about?” I snap, slamming my book shut.

  Her smile is full of glee.

  “I'm talking about how you threw yourself at Ian and begged him to take your clothes off and when he said no, you insisted he tried to rape you.”

  It feels like I've been sucker-punched. Heat rises to my cheeks. “You know that isn't true.”

  “Correction,” she says, her eyes gleaming mercilessly. “I know it's true because I was there and I saw everything. You really are nothing but a little homewrecker.”

  She flips her hair over her shoulder. “I mean, I thought it was bad enough that you tried to steal Ian away from Sarah, but then to turn around and stab your friend in the back like that. Damn. You're one cold-hearted—“

  I have to force the words out. “I didn't steal Ian from anyone.”

  “Oh, please. That little skank friend of yours has been fawning over Ian like a little girl in a candy shop since day one and then you just disregard her feelings like that.” She shakes her head. “I might be a bitch, but at least I'm not a backstabbing-boyfriend-stealer.”

  Chelsea leans forward like we're two friends sharing juicy secrets about the celebrities we like and not two teenage girls ready to claw each other’s eyes out. “Everyone knows Cooper isn't real.”

  Now, I roll my eyes.

  Danielle might not hang out with Cooper a lot on campus, but he’s driven down to meet up with our group of friends a few times and he is really sweet. They're perfect together in an obnoxiously cute kind of way.

  “Go get a manicure, Chelsea.”

  “I'm just stating the facts.”

  “And, where exactly are you getting your facts?” Danielle asks, sitting down. Relief floods through me. I want to jump up and hug her. “If you removed your head from your ass for two seconds you would see that Cooper is my boyfriend and he is very real.”

  “Oh, really? How come no ones met him then?”

  “Uh, because he's from San Diego and he's busy with his classes,” Danielle says. “Not that I need to prove anything to you.”

  "Riiiight.” She flips her hair, letting out a shrill laugh. “And, I'm secretly the heir to the British throne.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  When I walk into detention the following Thursday Mr. Allen isn't there. Silently, I take my usual seat two rows back behind Ian. He’s already here. His face is scrunched in concentration as he reads his Batman graphic novel.

  I stare at him intently, willing him to turn around and talk to me, but when he only reaches up to flatten his hair and then continues reading, I give up. Releasing a deep breath, I rummage through my bag until I find the book I’m currently reading for Mr. Allen’s class.

  Five minutes pass, but my mind refuses to focus. The different comic book strip panels blend together, the images blurring. Danielle's question aggravates my brain ruthlessly like fingernails on a chalkboard.

  What are you waiting for? What are you waiting for? What are you—

  The truth is I have no idea what I'm waiting for. I'm so sick of Ian and I not talking. So why are we not speaking?

  Ian and I pass in the hallways, share two classes, and yet, it's like we've been thrown back in time to when we first met and had all the initial get-to-know-you awkwardness. My stomach is in a knot and I keep rereading the same sentence. I peek over the pages of my book at Ian—he seems completely absorbed by what he's reading.

 
; How can he be so calm? Doesn't he miss talking to me?

  Right now my life feels as if it is in shambles, and I could really use my best friend. I take a deep breath. If I don't break the silence, I'll never forgive myself.

  “Can we talk?”

  He looks away from his book, blinks a few times and then looks around the room like he's seeing me for the first time. His voice is so soft I have to strain to hear him. “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?” I ask, sliding my bookmark back in place.

  Ian groans. Then he runs his fingers through his hair. “Did you bloody sleep with him?”

  “What? No, I—“ My heart plummets in my chest.

  He thinks I slept with Mason?

  “Things were finally starting to fall into place between us and then he shows up and you just run back to him? After everything we've been through.”

  “Ian,” I say, my voice trembles. “That's not what happened; he kept me there . . . I tried leaving, but he wouldn't let me.”

  “Really?” Ian scoffs. “When you didn't show, I stopped by your dorm and guess what: you weren't there. How did you get away, Ems?”

  “I swear,” I say, walking towards him. “It's not what it looks like.”

  He crosses his arms tightly across his chest. “I trusted you! I told you things about me that no one else knows and then you just run off with him? Are you so afraid of being alone you'll sabotage any relationship you have?”

  My fingers curl into fists at my side. Why is he being such an ass?

  “What about you?” I snap, shaking with rage. “You've been playing with my heart ever since I got here—running back to Sarah every chance you got. I might have messed up and maybe I have a fickle heart, but I'm not the only one who's messed up.”

  He's standing up now.

  “You're right—I am afraid of being alone. I'm not proud of it. But I am not the only one who suffers this problem, so don't blame this all on me.”

  “You haven't been alone, Ian.” I hiss and then start gathering up my things.

  Confusion clouds his face. “Where are you going?”

  “It's been fifteen minutes, I doubt Mr. Allen is showing. I'm going back home.”

  “Emily, wait,” Ian says, quickly gathering his belongings and following me out the door. He grabs my arm, but I shake him off.

  “That's all I've been doing Ian, and I am sick and tired of waiting, so unless you have some mind-altering piece of information you'd like to share, I'm leaving.”

  Ian stares at me like he wants to say something, but when I turn to leave he doesn't try to stop me. My heart shatters as I realize he's not going to chase after me, and maybe we're finally out of second chances.

  Three days before Christmas break, My friends and I are eating at Johnny Rockets spending our last evening together before we go our separate ways.

  The mall is beautiful and the Christmas decorations almost make me feel like I'm back home. A Christmas tree stands in the center of the mall—glass bulbs cover the branches and a giant star sits on top; wreaths and garlands cover the stair rails and someone has painted Disney characters having a snowball fight on the Disney store windows.

  Danielle pulls a Bath & Body bag onto the table. “Should we get this exchange started?”

  We all nod our heads and tell Danielle she can go first. She hands the bag to Liam and his face scrunches. “What did you get me from Bath & Body Works?”

  Danielle arches her eyebrows. “Open it and you'll see.”

  He slowly starts to open the bag like he's worried there's a snake inside and he doesn't want to disrupt it. His face is blank as he pulls the tissue paper aside and then all of a sudden his eyes light up. He pulls out a new sketchbook and markers.

  “Well played, Danielle. That was pretty clever.”

  “I didn't want to give away who I had, did I?” She smiles.

  “Well, I didn't do a good job hiding who my gift is for.” Liam says. He grabs a big box, wrapped in red and green Christmas paper with little Santa Clauses dancing across the page. He hands the box to Ian from across the table. Ian's arm bumps mine as he grabs it and warmth rises to my cheeks.

  We haven't said much to each other since our disagreement in detention, and I know I should be the one to break the silence, I'm just not sure how to put all my feelings into words. There certainly is some truth to Ian's words, I don't want to admit he is right, but . . . I am afraid of being alone.

  I didn't realize it at first, but I did cling to the idea of Mason. Pretending our relationship was the greatest thing in the world, I set it up on this grand pedestal—like we made the ideal couple when in reality our relationship was stuck together with duct tape and lies and broken promises.

  At first, I thought I stayed with Mason because I was afraid of what he would do. But, recently, I've been worried I only stayed with him because I was mad at Ian for choosing Sarah over me. Even after he told me they broke up, I was still afraid to give it my all and let go of Mason completely.

  I exhale slowly, biting my lip.

  Sometimes, I think we get so desperate for a connection we'll take whatever we can get –even if it's half-assed and doesn't mean a thing. . . Ian said he's afraid of being alone too, so does that mean it's okay to not want to be alone?

  Maybe, Mr. Allen is right, and all you need to do is find someone who makes you forget why you were afraid to be alone in the first place.

  Ian whoops loudly as he finishes opening his gift and I jump, which makes him laugh. Inside the box sits a Harlequins rugby ball. Ian high-fives Liam.

  “Thanks, mate.”

  I watch the way Ian's eyes light up as he slowly rolls the ball on his fingers. Ian is like the sun; he's full of warmth and goodness and I always feel better in his presence.

  Is that what it means to forget you're afraid to be alone?

  Danielle takes a sip of her strawberry shake and then clears her throat. “Do you want to go next, Emily?”

  I nod and pull a small blue bag with a snowman on it out from under the table. “Here. Calliope. This is for you.”

  She takes the bag and smiles. “Thanks.” She starts to open it and then stops, “Oh. My. God. What is that? It smells so good—like lavender and vanilla.”

  I glance at Danielle and she beams. When we picked names for our exchange and I pulled Calliope's name I totally freaked. I wanted to run to Ian's room and beg him to help me, but I didn't feel right going to him after our fight, so I went to Danielle instead.

  Calliope pulls two smaller bags out, with the words LUSH across the front and flowers in the background. Two bath bombs sit inside the bags. One is big and pink with stars and moons etched into it and the other is small and white with yellow speckles.

  “Thanks, Em!” Calliope leans across the table and squeezes my hand. “I've been so nervous about meeting Liam's parents, but these will definitely help calm my nerves.”

  “Don't worry babe.” Liam grabs her hand and kisses it. “My parents are going to love you.”

  “I hope so,” Calliope says, grabbing a small box wrapped in red and green plaid paper and hands it to Danielle. She opens the box and shrieks.

  She bounces up and down in her seat. “You didn't.” Danielle holds out two tickets for the upcoming Iron Maiden England tour.

  Calliope smiles, “I did. I got two tickets, even though I can't stand the band, I thought it'd be fun to go with you.”

  Danielle beams. “This is seriously the best!” She flings her arms around Calliope “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

  Ian looks at Danielle. “My house is in London, and I've already talked to my parents and they said you all can stay with us for a week or two. Don't worry about tickets. They'll cover them. “

  My jaw drops like the Genie's does when Jasmine flirts with Jafar. Okay, so maybe it's not that dramatic, but I can't believe what I am hearing! Ian made plans for our group of friends to hang out after we graduate.

  He . . . he wants to hang out with me aft
er we graduate

  Okay, I close my eyes. After we're done with dinner I am going to pull Ian aside. He must have feelings for me if he wants to hang out after graduation, right? I take a deep breath.

  I can do this.

  When I open my eyes, Ian is flashing me a breathtakingly beautiful smile. He hands me a long, slender rectangular packaged wrapped in silver paper with little reindeer. “This is for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  My heart races as I take the package from him. I slide my finger under the tape and the paper pops off. Inside the box sits the Norton Anthology of English Literature. My eyes sting and I duck my head to hide my disappointment.

  Once I discovered Ian had me for the exchange I thought he'd give something a little sweeter? But a school book?

  This gift says we're just friends and that's all we'll ever be.

  He clears his throat. “Do you like it?”

  All I can do to keep from crying is nod my head.

  He stares at me. “I thought you might want to get ahead of your classes with the upcoming break. I' m sorry, if you don't like it I can return it.”

  The rest of our friends are pretending to be absorbed in their own conversations, but keep glancing at Ian and me every so often.

  “No, it's wonderful Ian. Thank you.”

  I linger at the table as Danielle, Calliope and Liam gather their things and then wish Ian and I a Merry Christmas before leaving Johnny Rockets. I want to cower under the table and hide, but I made myself a promise and it's time to address the elephant in the room. When Ian rises from his chair, I quickly clamber out of my own and race towards him, grabbing his arm to stop him.

  “Ian?”

  “Yeah?” He asks, staring at me hesitantly.

  I met his gaze and then say the three hardest words I've ever had to say.

  “You were right. “I tuck my hair behind my ear. “About everything. I am afraid of being alone. I'm afraid of change and making big decisions and I have a tendency to push those I care about the most away from me. But I—I didn't sleep with Mason . . . I wouldn't do that to you . . . and it hurts that you think so little of me.”

 

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