Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  “Hey, you, I didn’t even see you come in,” my mom says, wrapping her arms around my waist. I lean my head on her shoulder, taking in the familiar scent of her perfume. She’s been wearing the same kind since I can remember and it always soothes me. It brings me back to a time when everything was okay and all I had to think about was which pink dress to wear that day.

  “I was running a little late, so I went straight to my tables,” I say, lifting my head to peek out to the dining room to make sure my customers are taken care of. “It’s nice and quiet today.”

  “You could probably go home if you wanted to. We can handle this.” She lets go of my waist and begins brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

  I ponder the idea of going home, but I know if I do I won’t be able to keep myself from feeling. I’d just lock myself in my room and cry until my eyes were swollen. At least when I’m here, I can keep my mind on something else.

  “No, I’ll stay. I need the money,” I say. That’s not exactly true. I’ve been working here for almost three years and I’ve barely spent a penny.

  My mom smiles at me before grabbing the full coffee pot and heading back to the dining room to serve customers. Sometimes I think she’s worried that the only reason I didn’t attend college was because I couldn’t afford it. I hate that she feels that way, but it’s easier to let her think that than it is to explain the truth.

  Around ten, Ms. Carter comes in for a cinnamon roll and a cup of decaf coffee. She’s a widow in her mid-eighties. I don’t think she has any family around because she always comes in alone. She’s the chattiest of my customers, but I don’t mind because she’s the sweetest lady on earth and doesn’t pry too much into my life.

  “You look tired today, Katie girl,” she says as I fill her coffee for the second time.

  “I didn’t sleep well last night,” I reply, then quickly change the subject. “You have any plans today?”

  “Just bridge club right after this. You should join us on one of your days off,” she smiles, taking a sip from her freshly filled coffee cup.

  We have this same conversation almost every day. Her memory is fading, but kindness still shines through. Some days, she almost makes me smile. Almost.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Carter, but they don’t give me many days off.”

  “Well, I should get going soon. I don’t want to be late, Bev Collins will take my chair and I can’t have that,” she says, laying a five dollar bill on the table.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I wave as she walks toward the door.

  “Of course, dear, unless I have other plans.” She exits, taking her time getting down the cement step and onto the sidewalk. I’ve always wanted to spend more time with her and hear her story, but I’m afraid she’ll ask about mine.

  I wipe down tables and make sure each one has everything it needs before the lunch crowd comes in. I’m usually able to get through breakfast just fine, but I dread lunch. It brings a different mix into the diner and it’s unpredictable.

  Almost every day during the summer, kids from my high school came in and found it necessary to sit in my section just to see how miserable they could make my day. I became a joke to them just because I didn’t fit in.

  I swear to God . . .

  For as long as I live I will never do to others as they have done to me.

  I see Morgan walk in with a group of her friends. They sit in my section, eyeing me like they know exactly what they’re doing. Morgan has been treating me differently since the incident with Drew, but I can’t blame her completely. I’ve changed so much, and she has no idea why because I didn’t tell her.

  I walk toward them hesitantly, ready to take their orders and get away as fast as I can. “What can I get you guys today?” I ask, keeping my attention on the small notebook I hold in my hand.

  “I’ll take a cob salad with the dressing on the side,” Abby replies. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see a smile spread across her lips.

  “You?” I ask, pointing my pen towards Dana.

  “What’s the soup today?”

  “Chicken noodle.”

  “Okay, I’ll take a bowl of that and a side salad,” Dana answers, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Morgan’s the last one to order. I briefly glance down at her, but the second I see her eyes staring up at me from over the menu, I focus mine back on the notebook. “And what can I get you?”

  She rolls her eyes slowly, making sure the whole table sees it. “Duh, I’ll take the same thing I always get.”

  “I don’t know what you always get,” I say, looking up to see Abby and Dana with smirks on their faces. I can feel my bottom lip tremble.

  Two years ago, I became Kate Alexander, the loser girl who will never leave Carrington; the girl who will always work in the diner with her mother. I hate how they treat me like something less than them just because I’ve changed. I guess not being ‘just like them’ is a crime.

  She starts to play with her nails, keeping her eyes off me like I’m nothing. “I want a garden salad with Italian dressing on the side.”

  “I’ll be right back with your order,” I mumble as I turn my back to them.

  I’m not more than two steps away when a voice behind me stops me. “Kate.” I spin on my heels to face her. “You better leave the tomatoes off my salad this time,” Morgan smiles, quickly beginning a conversation with the other girls at the table.

  As I walk into the kitchen, I hear them whispering and giggling. When I hear them say my name amongst their whispers, tears prick my eyes. How can my best friend turn on me simply because I’ve changed? When I needed her the most, she wasn’t there.

  I quietly deliver their food to the table and ask if they need anything else, but they just continue to talk like I don’t even exist. When Morgan decides to join in, it feels like someone stuck a knife in my heart and twisted it. I don’t like to consider myself resentful, but I always wonder what would’ve happened if she hadn’t left me that night.

  The worst was the day Drew and two of his football buddies came in and sat in one of my booths. Drew had been in the diner enough times before and after the incident to know exactly which section was mine. He usually didn’t sit in an area where I had to wait on him, though. He would sit and watch me from afar, but on that particular day he decided it was time to cause more trouble for me than he already had.

  My whole body tenses the second I see him from across the room. He smiles at me like we’re old friends, and I instantly feel sick to my stomach. I know I can’t do this. I don’t see one day in my future where I will ever be able to face Drew without having the panic and horror of that night hit me.

  I walk to the kitchen to find my mom filling a glass with ice water. “Mom, I feel sick. I think I’m going to have to go home,” I say, placing my hand over my midsection.

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry you’re not feeling good, but we’re swamped out there. Can you stick it out for a little bit longer?” she asks.

  I peek through the window in the door-every table is full and a few people are still waiting inside the door. I’m waging an internal battle with myself when the other waitress on duty comes flying through the door, throwing her notepad on counter.

  “It’s a zoo. Where are all these people coming from?” she says, placing her hands on her hips.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I’ll stay,” I say hesitantly. I hate letting people down and can’t say no. “Can you take table ten for me, though?”

  “Yeah, I can do that,” she answers, using the back of her hand to wipe her forehead. The weight of my chest starts to ease up.

  When Drew and his posse figure out what I’ve done, they start taunting me as I walk by. “Hey, Kate, are you going to take our order? I think you already know what I like!” Drew yells as I walk past. Just like that night, I want to run away and never come back, but I can’t. This job is the one of the only things I have left that keeps me going.

  I continue to serve my customers lik
e Drew isn’t even there. It’s hard to do, though, when he’s forcing himself into my life. Every time I see him, I want to scream and hit him until my fists hurt so much that they go numb. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look in his direction even once; I’m not going to give him the gratification. I think it really bothers him that I’m the only girl who doesn’t acknowledge his existence.

  I’ve always wondered if I’m the only girl he’s ever hurt, or if there might be others. I wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt if he did it to another girl after me. It was the one reason I almost came forward, but in the end I knew it wouldn’t matter because nobody was going to believe me.

  When they lay their cash on the table and start to get up, Drew’s eyes briefly lock on mine, and I quickly look away. The sight of him makes me feel dirty. I’ve never despised something, or someone, so much in my entire life.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see him walking toward me with a disgusting grin on his face. I want to run, but my feet are cemented in the ground and all I can do is stare as he stops in front of me. “I haven’t seen you at a party in a while. Don’t you want to come out and play again soon?”

  I quickly turn and head toward the ladies room, locking the door behind me. A panic attack takes hold of my body, and I work hard to try and regain my composure. Knowing he’s only a few feet away intensifies my symptoms as I desperately try to catch my breath. When I’m to the point that I think I might pass out, I crouch down and rest my head in my hands, taking several deep breaths. I’ve avoided having any conversation with Drew up until this point, and I only have a couple more months to get through before he leaves town. I just need to avoid him for a little while longer, and then maybe I’ll be able to move on with my life to some extent. I’m not sure how much time passes in the bathroom before I feel like I can function again, but when I do finally step out, he’s gone.

  I haven’t seen him since. Rumor has it that he left town early for football camp. All my old friends have gone off to college to start the next phase of their lives, but I’m still here trying to decide if my life even has a next phase.

  Chapter 5

  Later in the day, when the diner is empty, the bell above the door dings, alerting my attention to a new customer. I look up and find that my eyes are fixed on the unfamiliar man at the door; they refuse to focus on anything else.

  That’s the other thing about small towns, when anyone new rides into town, it turns into a breaking news story. And if you stay any longer than a few hours, everyone knows your business. The guy standing near the door in faded blue jeans and a fitted sky blue t-shirt is definitely not from around here. His blonde hair is standing up all over the place like he just rolled out of bed and ran his fingers through it a few times.

  His eyes lock on mine, and the corner of his lips turn up on one side causing me to turn around quickly and head to the kitchen out of his view.

  After a couple minutes have passed, I look through the small window in the kitchen door and breathe a sigh of relief when I see he’s not sitting in my section. I always had a shy demeanor, but what happened with Drew made it much, much worse. I live every day of my life in constant fear somebody will take advantage of me.

  Living life that way is like not even living at all.

  It’s impossible to do my job from the kitchen, so I make an attempt to pull myself together. It’s time to face the stranger whether I like it or not. I watch as the tables quickly fill up with the lunch crowd, and I move into autopilot, making sure each of my tables has menus and drinks. Most of the people are regulars, so it doesn’t take me long to get their orders and bring them to the kitchen. This may not be my dream job, but I’m sure good at it.

  When I deliver my first table their meals, I notice the guy in the blue shirt staring in my direction. This time he’s not smiling. Instead, his eyebrows are pulled down as if he’s studying me. Our eyes lock and all the chatter in the room seems louder as I stand frozen in the middle of the packed restaurant. I don’t know if it’s the expression on his face, or the fact that his eyes haven’t left mine, but I can’t make myself look away.

  Someone runs into me from behind, sending me a couple steps forward and breaking the connection I’m having with the stranger. When I look back at him, his gaze is focused out the window. I don’t know what just happened between us, but I make my way back to the kitchen before he tries to look my way again. I have no idea why he’s having this effect on me.

  At this point, I don’t even know if it’s good or bad.

  ****

  When I leave work, I notice I have four text messages and two missed calls, all from Beau. Just seeing his name on my screen makes my heart skip as I work to blink the tears away so that I can read his messages.

  Beau: How R U?

  Beau: R U Working?

  Beau: Please text me so I know you’re okay . . .

  Beau: I miss you.

  I miss Beau like crazy but knowing he’s thinking of me even when he’s five hours away gives me hope that maybe we can come away from this separation with our friendship intact.

  He’s going to make new friends, I’m sure of that. He’s smart, funny, good-looking, and he’s not shy at all. I’m not going to let him spend every free second of his day worrying over me anymore. I just hope he doesn’t completely forget me.

  I should try calling him back, but I can’t even think about him right now without crying. I don’t want him to worry, so I opt for a text instead.

  Kate: I’m good. Just got off work.

  I want to tell him I miss him too, but that would be an admission of the truth, and that isn’t something I’ve been very good at lately. And no matter how much I know he wants to hear me say it, I still can’t do it.

  Truth is, I miss him so much more than I thought I ever would. He’s been my only reason to breathe, and even though he still is, it’s more difficult because he’s so far away. My phone beeps again.

  Beau: I was worried about you.

  Kate: Don’t worry. I’ll be ok.

  I don’t want him to worry about me tomorrow when I don’t answer his texts or calls. It’s not that I don’t want to . . . I just need to put some space between us right now. I know Beau, and if I let it go too long, he’ll get in his car and drive right back home just to check on me.

  Beau: Call me tonight?

  I desperately want to hear the smooth baritone in his voice.

  Kate: Having dinner with Mom. Tomorrow?

  Beau: Tomorrow then.

  Beau’s not stupid. He knows my mom and I rarely have dinner together, but he doesn’t ask any questions.

  I spend the remainder of my evening lying in bed, listening to Coldplay as I fixate my eyes on the ceiling. Maybe it’s the soothing sadness of the lyrics, or the sound of Chris Martin’s voice, but I can never get enough. I can’t stop thinking about what I could have had with Beau. What things would have been like if none of this ever happened to me. I wanted him for so long but didn’t think he felt the same way. Now, he wants me, and I can’t understand why. Why would anyone want the broken girl I’ve become? I wait for sleep to take over and put a temporary end to my thoughts.

  ****

  The next morning I don’t want to go to work. I force myself out of bed and start the shower before grabbing a clean pair of jeans and a Bonnie’s t-shirt out of my closet.

  When I step in the shower, I let the hot water fall over my face before turning and letting it heat my entire body. I focus on the scalding drops of water as they fall. It’s painfully hot, but keeps my mind off the internal pain that I’m rarely able to escape.

  The first time I did it was the night Drew raped me. I felt fragile, furious and more than anything, I felt like a disgusting piece of garbage. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to clean away his scent or his touch from my body. The minute I walked in my front door, I went straight to the bathroom and turned the water to the hottest setting. At first it made me cringe, but the water made me feel clean and th
e heat dulled the pain in my heart as it burned my skin.

  I haven’t been able to stop since.

  My morning shift goes by quickly, dealing with many of the regulars. Ms. Carter comes in right as the breakfast crowd is clearing out and takes her usual seat in my section.

  “Good morning, Katie girl. Isn’t it beautiful outside today?” she asks, glancing out the window. I rarely pay any attention to the weather . . . unless it’s raining. Those are my worst days.

  I look ahead and see the bright blue sky and nod my head. “Yes, it’s nice outside today.”

  “I can’t believe summer is almost over. Won’t be long until the snow is flying,” she says, looking back up at me.

  “Are you having the usual today?”

  “I’m too old to change now,” she laughs. That actually makes me smile. Her life seems so simple and she’s content with it.

  I plate a warm cinnamon roll and pour Ms. Carter a cup of coffee and deliver it to her table. I’m feeling better than I did this morning, and I’m even considering going for a run after work, when my mom pops her head through the door.

  “You have a new customer in your section,” she says with a huge grin on her face.

  My mom’s not one for throwing out meaningless smiles, so the way she looks at me when she says it has me curious. I open the door to the dining room and stop dead in my tracks.

  He’s come back.

  The guy from lunch yesterday is sitting at one of the smaller tables in my section, watching me with raised eyebrows. My feet feel as if they weigh one-hundred pounds each.

  I don’t know what it is about him that unnerves me, but the way he stares at me makes me feel like I should know who he is, or that maybe he knows who I am.

  I swallow my restraint and move toward him, never taking my eyes off his. As I get closer, I notice they’re a unique light-greyish-blue shade that is only highlighted by the navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing.