All the Broken Pieces

by Cindi Madsen

  Except I don’t even know how he feels. Maybe he likes the short blond girl.

  “So the party? Is it always at the same place?”

  “Usually we have it at The Gulch. We light a bonfire and just hang out.”

  “Sounds like an adventure.”

  “It depends on who comes.” Clay pulled a pen out of his pocket, grabbed her hand, and wrote a phone number across it. “So you can call and let me know.”

  “I’ll definitely give you a call. Either way.” The halls had cleared and her class was on the other side of the building. “I better get going, but I’ll see you later.” She shot him a smile and headed down the hall.

  But halfway there, she noticed she’d grabbed the wrong book. She was debating whether to head to class without it or go back to her locker when the bell rang.

  I’m already late anyway. Might as well get the right one.

  The dream she’d had popped into her mind again. All morning she’d been bothered by it. In the few weeks of school and hanging out with Spencer, she’d felt like her life was clicking back into place. But every time she had one of the strange dreams that were hard to distinguish from reality—or, well, she didn’t want to say hallucinations, but it was hard to deny when she kept hallucinating—she couldn’t help feeling like something was majorly wrong with her.

  A giggle brought her back to the present.

  The short blonde and Spencer stood in the hall.

  Spencer glanced up as she got closer. “Liv. Hey.”

  “Hey back,” she said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.

  “What are you doing?”

  She lifted her book. “Grabbed the wrong one.”

  The blond girl pursed her lips and crossed her arms, looking put out by the interruption. She was much prettier than Liv would’ve preferred. Tiny waist, clothing that showed she was into fashion, and big blue eyes.

  I wouldn’t mind if a giant wad of gum landed in her hair.

  Shoot, I’ll help you put it there.

  “Natasha and I are headed to the library,” Spencer said. “We’ve got this project in US history. Any ideas what subject we should attack?”

  “You know me. I’m not the greatest with history.” What she really wanted to know was how much of a history he and Natasha had. Most mornings he came and talked to her before class; today, he’d chosen Natasha.

  Well if he wants a stupid girl, he can have her. I’ve got other options.

  She thought about the way Clay had grabbed her hand and written on it. How he was always smiling and confident. Other very cute and charming options, thankyouverymuch.

  Natasha tugged on Spencer’s sleeve. “We better get going.”

  Options or not, that girl bugged her. The day had barely begun and her goal of proving she would never be mean to anyone was already starting to crack.

  “I need to go, too. I’m late enough as it is.” As fast as she could move without actually running, she headed for her locker. She told herself if Spencer got a girlfriend—a girlfriend who wasn’t her—she’d survive.

  Somehow.

  …

  You’ve got to be kidding me, Liv thought as she walked into the cafeteria.

  Natasha and two other girls were seated by Spencer. As Natasha talked, she gestured wildly with her hands.

  I can’t deal with this right now.

  First period she’d gotten in trouble for being late; second period she’d been preoccupied thinking about Spencer and missed an easy question; and now—well, now that Natasha girl was starting to piss her off.

  Sabrina stepped up next to her. “That’s Spencer for you. One day it’s you, the next there’s someone else.”

  “He and Natasha are working on a history project together,” Liv said, burning jealousy churning in her gut.

  “Yeah. That’s what it looks like.” Sabrina tilted her head toward her normal table. “Care to join us?”

  Liv sighed. “I think I will.”

  Sabrina offered a smile—one that actually seemed sincere.

  I’m in Opposite World. Spencer’s surrounded by people, and Sabrina’s being nice.

  “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” Clay said as she sat next to him. “I knew you weren’t as immune to my killer good looks as you were pretending to be.”

  Liv shook her head, but she couldn’t help but smile. “Keep that attitude up and I’m not calling you at all, just to teach you a little humility.”

  He grinned back. “Who knew there was such a sassy girl underneath that sweet face?”

  “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

  Clay leaned closer, eyes fixed on hers. “It’s definitely a compliment.”

  The flirting thing was pretty easy once she got started. Clay didn’t hold back; he told her exactly what he was thinking. And it was nice not to have to decode everything. Now and then she’d glance in Spencer’s direction, but every time, Natasha’s mouth and arms were moving.

  Spencer didn’t exactly look happy. His eyes were glazed over, and the more minutes passed, the farther his shoulders slumped.

  Liv caught the tail end of Sabrina’s story. “. . . told my mom that as long as she keeps ruining my clothes, she’s going to have to spring for more. Usually they’re just faded or she puts them in the dryer too long and they shrink. But this time, there was a big bleach stain across the back of my favorite shirt.”

  “The red one?” Candace asked.

  “Yeah. Now it’s ruined.”

  Guilt crept through Liv. Maybe she was meaner than she thought she was. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to admit to everyone that she’d been the one to bleach Sabrina’s shirt. Not now, when they might almost be kind of friends again.

  She finished eating, and as she stood to leave, she glanced at Spencer’s table again. He was looking directly at her. He raised his eyebrows, seemingly asking a silent question.

  Taking her tray, she headed toward the exit. She dumped the food she hadn’t eaten, put the tray away, and walked into the hall.

  A hand gripped her arm. “Are you mad at me?”

  Liv twisted to face Spencer. “It just looked crowded.”

  “Like where you sat wasn’t. You seemed pretty cozy next to Clay.”

  “I was planning on sitting by you, but then I saw Natasha was there and I didn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ll have to spend a lot of time together for your project.”

  Spencer sighed. “It’s just a history assignment.”

  He looked frustrated, which she hated, so she decided to change the subject. “My parents are going out to dinner tonight, so I was thinking we head to my house after school, relax for a while, then put in a little study time before our test. What do you say?”

  “I’m down. But do we really have to do the math part?”

  “I do. I can’t get a bad grade in my best subject.”

  They walked to class together, and it was almost like everything was back to normal. Almost.

  …

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to make you something?” Mom asked as Dad tried to lead her out of the house.

  Liv turned away from the books she and Spencer had spread out on the coffee table. “Mom, I’m smart enough to feed myself.” She made a shooing motion. “Now go. Have a good time.”

  “Call if you need anything.”

  “Good-bye, Mom.”

  Mom sighed and stepped out of view. Dad waved, then followed her into the garage, closing the door behind him.

  Spencer dropped his pencil and sat back on the couch. “All day I’ve been going back and forth if I should tell you something. So I’m just going to spill it.”

  Liv tucked a leg under her and twisted to face him.

  “I looked up your parents on my computer last night. There are a couple of places where you can see if there are complaints against doctors and that kind of thing.”

  Every muscle in her body tensed, and it suddenly took all her effort to keep the air going in and out o
f her lungs. “And?”

  “They were clean. Tons of glowing reviews, actually. There was something about a trial your Mom was doing on Huntington’s disease. I skimmed through it, but it was way over my head. Mostly, it was stuff about the brain. How it works, how the disease affects it—that kind of thing.”

  What was it Mom had said last night during her fight with Dad? She’d mentioned quitting the trial, but she couldn’t remember anything other than that.

  Spencer ran a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I wasn’t sure if you’d think it was good news or bad news.”

  “I… Of course it’s good news.” The more information she got, the surer she was she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. “Maybe I was wrong about my parents. After talking to my dad yesterday, I realized how hard the wreck and my recovery was on them. I think it just freaked them out.”

  “I’m sure.” Spencer put his hand on her knee. “You good, then?”

  Liv nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for looking into it.”

  “No problem. Now, the next question is, what are you going to cook us?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Who said I’m cooking you anything?”

  “Let’s go see what we can find, then. I’m starving.”

  They walked into the kitchen and she headed to the fridge. She opened the door and stared inside. “My mom made this tomato soup yesterday that was good. The leftovers are in here.”

  “She made tomato soup instead of opening a can?”

  “These days she makes everything from scratch.” Liv grabbed the jar out of the fridge.

  And then her arm spasmed.

  The jar fell to the tile floor and cracked open, splattering red liquid everywhere. For a couple seconds she just stared, feeling like an idiot. “Somebody kill me now.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Spencer said. “Just watch out for the glass.”

  “It is a big deal. I haven’t had an arm spasm in forever, but of course it happens when I’m holding a glass jar.”

  “Spasm?”

  “From the accident. I’m really messed up. Every time I think I’m normal again, I get proven wrong.” The spasm. The voices. The crazy dreams and hallucinations. Even blaming Mom and Dad for everything that was wrong.

  Liv grabbed a paper towel and tried to soak up the soup. It barely made a dent.

  “Where’s your dustpan?” Spencer asked.

  She pointed to the small closet. He opened the door, got out the dustpan, and scooped up the mess. In no time, the remains of the jar and soup were in the trash.

  After wiping the floor with a rag, Liv moved to the sink to wash her hands.

  “Doesn’t it look like my finger’s bleeding?” Spencer said, shoving his hand in front of her face.

  She swatted it away. “Stop it. I don’t want to see.”

  “No, look. Blood.” He lifted it higher.

  Cupping her hands, she filled them with water and tossed it at him. The water hit his face, leaving large drops on his glasses.

  “Oh, it’s on now.” He lunged at her, wrapping his arms around her.

  She screeched as he tipped her toward the running water. “No, Spencer! Don’t!” The faucet got closer and she hooked her arms around one of his, squeezing in as close as she could to keep from getting wet.

  “Not so funny now, is it?”

  Water sprayed off the side of the sink, sending drops onto her cheek. “I won’t do it again, I swear. Don’t get me wet!”

  His smile faded and he ran his thumb down her neck. Where her scar was.

  She lifted a hand to cover it.

  “Is that from the accident?”

  “Yeah.”

  He eased her back down, then leaned forward to turn off the water, bringing their bodies together again. Her heart sped up as she felt the warmth of his body. Her breath caught as his eyes met hers. She put her hands on the sides of his waist, willing him to kiss her.

  He stepped back and took off his glasses. Lifting his T-shirt, he rubbed the lenses clean, then put them back on.

  Whatever was going on between them was starting to drive her insane. One minute she’d be sure he felt the same. Then nothing. “Spencer?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You know I like hanging out and doing things on the list, but…” Her determination faded, but then she thought about Clay. About Natasha.

  I have to know.

  “Is there something more going on between us?”

  “More?”

  She crossed her arms. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m the socially stilted one, not you.”

  “It’s not that I don’t… It’s just…” He blew out his breath. “I can’t.”

  The words hit her like a sledgehammer. A sharp pain shot across her chest and she gripped the counter for support. “Why?”

  “Because I… And you’re…” Frustration filled his features, and he shook his head, then dropped his gaze to the floor.

  Working to keep the emotion out of her voice, she said, “Then I guess I should tell you that I’m going to the party with Clay tomorrow.”

  His head whipped up. “Liv, no. Don’t go out with him.”

  “Why not?”

  Say it. Say because I want you to go out with me. Because there is more between us.

  “Because he’s a jerk,” Spencer said.

  Her heart clenched as her last bit of hope disappeared. “He’s not a jerk to me.”

  Spencer threw his hands up. “Fine. Go out with him, then. See if I care.”

  Anger filled her. “Oh, I’m going to. It’s not like I need your permission!”

  He stormed out of the kitchen.

  From the doorway, she watched him gather his books, sling his backpack over his shoulder, and head for the front door.

  He didn’t look back. Just walked out and slammed the door behind him.

  The silence of the empty house rang in her ears.

  Then the sobs broke through.

  26

  Liv spotted Clay next to his locker, talking to Austin. Because she’d been so upset about what had happened with Spencer, she hadn’t called him last night like she’d promised she would. Gathering her courage, she walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. “Can I talk to you?”

  Austin gave Clay the nod, then walked away.

  “Sorry I didn’t call. Your number smudged.” She wasn’t sure if it had been smudged last night, but it was almost gone this morning, so it was kind of true. “If you haven’t made other plans already, I’d like to go out with you tonight.”

  He smiled. “Yeah?”

  His enthusiasm was catching. “Yeah.”

  “Cool. I’m thinking we’ll grab some dinner first, then we’ll head out to The Gulch for the party.” He put her number and address into his phone, then held out his hand. “Let me see your cell.”

  He took it, pushed a couple buttons, then gave it back. “Now you can call me whenever.” He leveled his blue eyes on her. “And I hope you will.”

  “My, aren’t you Mister Charming this morning?”

  His grin widened. “Pick you up at six thirty?”

  “It’s a date.”

  …

  “So, I talked to Samuel in class today, and we’re going to the party together,” Keira said as she and Liv headed for the cafeteria. “It’ll be our first official date.” She grinned and gave a little squeal. “I’m so glad you told Clay you’d go with him. Tonight’s going to be so much fun!” Her face lit up. “Being with Samuel is so easy. We can talk for hours.”

  Spencer and I can talk for hours. Or just hang out. Things are easy with him.

  Used to be easy, anyway.

  “This morning he told me I looked beautiful.” Sighing, Keira put her hand on her heart. “Isn’t that just the sweetest thing ever?”

  Spencer’s never said much about the way I look. There was that time he told me I looked like a snotty, pretty girl, but maybe I’m not his type. He must like blondes. Wait. Sabrina has brow
n hair.

  Maybe it’s because I’m too needy. And clumsy.

  Keira’s raised eyebrows made her realize her friend was waiting for an answer. “Oh, right. Yeah. Super sweet.”

  The buzz of simultaneous conversations grew louder as they neared the cafeteria. Keira kept talking as they wove through the lunch line, and Liv halfway listened. As awkward as she felt about how things had ended with Spencer, she still had this urge to go talk to him.

  She reached the end of the line and glanced at the table where he normally sat. Natasha and her friends were there, sitting next to him, but he had his headphones in. Looking to the other table, she saw the usual suspects.

  She took a few steps toward them and then stopped. No. Spencer’s my friend. Even if we’ll never be more than that, I’m not going to just hand him over to annoying Natasha.

  And how interested in her could he be if he’s drowning her out with his music?

  That thought gave her the courage to turn around.

  “Where are you going?” Keira asked.

  “I need to talk to Spencer. I’ll catch up with you later.” Steeling herself for a confrontation, Liv walked to the spot that had been hers until yesterday.

  She smiled down at Natasha—she imagined the smile was as fake as the ones Sabrina usually doled out. “Mind scooting down so I can talk to Spencer?”

  “Oh, I’m already all set up here.” Natasha shot a fake grin right back. “Sorry.”

  I’m going to throw the hugest wad of gum in your hair.

  No, I’m trying to be a nice person. I just didn’t realize how challenging it would be.

  Spencer looked up from his lunch.

  Instead of trying to reason with Natasha, she decided to go to the source. “Can we talk?”

  He tugged out his earphones and she held her breath. His expression was so grim, she was afraid he was going to tell her he’d rather not. Or worse—that he’d rather talk to Natasha. “I bet we can find an empty space at an outside table.”

  Natasha’s face dropped, and Liv fought the urge to smirk at the perky blonde.

  As she followed Spencer outside, a knot formed in her stomach. Things had been so easy yesterday and now everything felt—well, not easy. They settled at an empty table. The space between them, the quiet, it was all wrong.