Unbreakable

by Jennifer Lazaris

  “Um… well, I just wanted to say hello,” I manage. “And see how your season is going.”

  “It’s going fine.” He doesn’t offer up any more details. He’s so formal and distant with me; it’s like talking to a complete stranger.

  Well, screw it. I found the courage to dial the number, and I’m not going to let this go. There’s too much at stake.

  “Will, I miss you.”

  I hear him suck in a breath. “Emmy—”

  I interrupt him before he has a chance to brush me off.

  “I wanted to let you know that I did everything that we discussed. I’m living in Toronto. I’m staying with my mom for now, and I’m working on my ZeeTube channel. Helene, my dad’s girlfriend, helped me work everything out with him. I think things are going to be okay. And I’ve already made a little profit since I’ve been here. In fact, I’ve made more in the past two months than I did in the last eight, so I’m growing my audience. Plus, I’ve enrolled at a makeup school for spring semester, and I’m going to take business classes online in the fall.”

  I pause to take a breath, because I’m pretty sure I didn’t breathe during that entire little speech.

  “That’s great.” He sounds a little friendlier, so I continue.

  “I just wanted to tell you that I couldn’t have ever done this if you hadn’t suggested I talk to Helene. It made all the difference in the world. My dad is still pretty pissed at me, but I’m so glad I decided to get things out in the open with him. I had to try.”

  “Yeah, you did,” he says quietly. “If you didn’t take that chance, you’d always wonder what could have been. And that’s no way to live.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “If you really feel that way, then shouldn’t we take a chance to be in each other’s lives again? Can’t we get past all this? I can’t handle not having you as my friend, Will. I-I really miss you. I miss you so much.”

  His voice wavers. “You know it’s not that simple.”

  “Then tell me how we can simplify it. If you don’t want to see me, we could just talk to each other on the phone, or text each other, couldn’t we?”

  This whole conversation is making me feel awful and desperate. I don’t want to play games with him.

  He doesn’t respond, so I try again. Though this time, I can’t hide my anguish. I choke back a sob. “Don’t you miss me, too?”

  “Oh, fuck, Em.” His voice is barely audible, and he stops in the middle of whatever he was going to say. “Look, I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  There’s nothing but silence after that, and I realize he’s ended the call.

  Tears slip down my cheeks, and soon I can’t stop crying. Sobs rack my body as I hug my pillow and give in to my grieving. I feel like all I do lately is cry, but this conversation seems even more final than the last one we had. He’s serious about this. I’ve really lost him, this time for good.

  I’ve never felt so heartsick in my entire life.

  And despite how much he’s hurt me, I still can’t help but be worried sick about him. He has no family. Other than the team and a few friends, he’s got no support system in place.

  Now that he’s cut me off and Sully’s not talking to him, who’s going to help him through all of the tough times? Who’s going to be there to celebrate the good ones?

  I’ve never really known what it’s like to feel truly hopeless before now, but I just can’t see any way out of this mess.

  One week later

  “Jesus Christ, Emmy,” Peyton mutters as she steps through my front door. Violet follows her inside, and her mouth drops open when she sees me.

  “Honey? When was the last time you slept?” Violet asks me. Her eyes skim over my SpongeBob Squarepants pajamas.

  Peyton’s staring in horror at my hair, which is wound into a messy topknot and hasn’t seen a straightening iron or shampoo in at least five days.

  “I’ve been working,” I say defensively, leading them into the kitchen. “Anyway, I thought we could eat dinner here instead of going out.” I point to the two pizzas, sodas, and large garden salad I ordered.

  “You’ve obviously not been working in front of the camera,” Peyton says, raising an eyebrow. “You look like shit.”

  “We know you’ve been working a lot,” Violet says, shooting Peyton a look. “That’s why we thought we’d take you out tonight. Maybe see a movie and go out to dinner. You need to take a break and get out of the house for a while.”

  “Or we could just throw you into a shower,” offers Peyton.

  Violet glares in her direction, and Peyton shrugs. “Look, we’re her friends. She should know when she’s starting to smell like stale coffee and…” She sniffs. “Is that sour milk?”

  I wave my hand. “I spilled cereal on my top two days ago. Look, I’m sorry my appearance doesn’t meet your strict standards, but I’m trying to edit a bunch of videos I made last week.”

  “Really, Em? When? Between bouts of crying over Will? Your eyes are puffy and bloodshot,” Peyton says. “You look like the poster child for heartbreak. It’s depressing.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Will,” I say, opening the pizza box. “I mean it. If that’s what you’re here for, you’re just wasting your time.”

  “We’re here to spend time with you,” Violet says gently. “We just wish you would get out of the house for a bit. It’s not healthy being cooped up so much.”

  I sigh and sink into a chair. “I’m tired.”

  “You’re stressed,” Violet says. “Come on. Don’t you want to go out with us for a bit? Look at a different set of walls?”

  “You guys aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

  “Nope,” says Peyton, taking a slice of pizza from the box. “And good move, slick. Ordering pizza for the chicks who spend 24/7 at a pizza shop.” She gives me a thumbs up gesture and an exaggerated wink.

  Despite how shitty I feel, I can’t help but laugh. Trust Peyton to speak her mind.

  “Fine. I’ll go shower, and we can get out of here for a while. But not too long, okay? I really do have work to do.”

  “Okay,” Violet agrees.

  “I’ll be back down soon,” I tell them.

  “That’s okay, take your time!” Peyton says. “Really. Take a lot of time. I’m sure it’s going to be work getting those potato chips out of your hair.”

  I shake my head and head upstairs to take a long, hot shower. I let the water work the kinks out of my back. It feels so good that I stay under the spray until the water runs cold.

  Afterward, I dry and straighten my hair, and then I spend the next fifteen minutes doing my makeup. I’m not sure where they plan on taking me, so I opt for my favorite skinny jeans and knee-high black boots. I pull on a white sweater and examine myself in the mirror.

  It’s been so long since I’ve gotten dressed and out of the house, it almost seems weird to be wearing anything but my pajamas. The past week has been really hard on me. I have to admit, it will be good to shake off some of my misery. A night out with the girls might help.

  When I come back downstairs, Violet and Peyton both smile.

  “There’s our girl,” Peyton says. “Please, remind me to burn those horrible pajamas later.”

  “Hey, I love SpongeBob,” I complain.

  “So do I, but those pajamas are threadbare, Em. And they reeked of sour milk and coffee.”

  “I’ll wear them till they fall apart,” I say, sticking out my tongue at her. “So, where are we going?”

  “I thought we could go over to Greektown. Dinner and dessert? Maybe not in that order,” says Violet.

  “That works,” I say, nodding.

  “Yes!” yells Peyton. “We’re out of here!”

  My girls each put an arm around me once we’re outside, and I squeeze them back. I love them both like sisters, and I’m so grateful they can see what I need, especially during the times when I can’t see that myself.

 
Chapter Twenty-Four

  WILL

  “This place is kind of empty,” I say, glancing around.

  Glyka, a popular dessert shop on Danforth Avenue, is usually jam-packed—even on weeknights. “Did they switch management or something? Where is everyone?”

  Dylan shrugs. “Who cares. I just need my ice cream.”

  I snort with laughter. Dylan loves his sweets and can’t resist indulging at least once a week.

  “Is Axel coming out?” I ask, glancing down at the menu. It’s one of the biggest dessert menus I’ve ever seen.

  “Yeah. He should be here soon.”

  “Does Sully know you guys are going out with me?”

  Dylan slaps his menu down on the table. “No. I’m tired of listening to him bitch about you.”

  “Sorry, man.” I lean back in the booth and toss the menu down on the table. “He’s probably not going to stop anytime soon, either.”

  The bell on the front door dings, signaling the arrival of more customers.

  I glance up just as Violet walks into the shop. She comes to a screeching halt when she sees me.

  “Hey, what’s the holdup?” I recognize Peyton’s voice coming from the corridor.

  Violet turns around and shoves her back. “Let’s go somewhere else,” she says. “I don’t want ice cream anyway.”

  “Hey, you promised me ice cream if I agreed to leave the house. I’m not turning back now.”

  I’d know that voice anywhere. Emmy.

  She pushes past Violet, and her gaze lands directly on me. Our eyes lock, and she freezes just inside of the doorway.

  My breath gets caught in my chest as we stare at each other. Emmy’s cheeks are pink from the cold, and a gray toque is pulled down over her long, straight brown hair. She’s wearing dark, slim-fitting blue jeans with stylish, knee-high black boots and a gray peacoat.

  She blinks a few times and looks over at Dylan. “It’s okay. We’ll go somewhere else.”

  “No.” I nearly bash my knees on the underside of the table as I hurry to stand. “Come sit with us. It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s actually awkward as fuck, Maverick,” Peyton says, glaring at me. “That doesn’t equal fine in my book.”

  Leave it to Peyton to call me out. I’m sure she knows all of the dirty little details about what happened between Emmy and me.

  Dylan’s watching the whole scene with interest but hasn’t said a word until now. He glances over at Peyton. “Axel will be here soon. C’mon, sit with us.”

  Peyton turns to Emmy. “This is your call. Whatever you decide, we’ll do. I totally get it if you don’t want to sit with him.”

  I flinch but keep my mouth shut. Yeah, she definitely knows what’s up.

  “It’s okay. We can stay,” says Emmy, sliding into the booth next to Dylan. Violet sits down next to me while Peyton, who’s shooting daggers at me with her eyes, sits on Emmy’s left.

  I can’t take my eyes off of Em. My brain tells me that I need to stay away, that I shouldn’t be sitting here with her, but my heart completely ignores that noise. My feelings for her all come rushing back full-force, like a dam that’s finally given way under the pressure.

  “Do you guys want to split something with me?” she asks Violet and Peyton.

  “Hell, no,” Peyton says, looking at the menu. “I’m starving.”

  Violet shakes her head. “I’m totally scarfing down a piece of the chocolate cheesecake. I didn’t get dinner, remember?”

  “I’ll split with you, Emmy,” I offer. “What do you want?”

  She finally looks up at me, her expression unreadable. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, fighting the urge to reach for her hand. “Get whatever you want. I wasn’t in the mood for a big dessert anyway.”

  She hesitates a moment before dropping her gaze from mine. “Okay. Then I’ll get the chocolate strawberry cheesecake with vanilla bean ice cream on the side.”

  After we place our orders with the waitress, Violet, Peyton, and Dylan do their best to make small talk, which is challenging since Dylan isn’t big on conversation. Emmy doesn’t join in. She keeps her eyes on the table, looking so uncomfortable that it breaks my heart. I can’t bear it another second.

  “Em? Can we go outside for a few minutes? I need to talk to you.”

  She snaps her head up, and a spark of emotion flashes in those pretty green eyes. “Oh, so now you want to talk?” Her voice holds a note of anger that’s impossible to miss.

  I know she’s referring to our recent phone conversation, and I’m quickly hit with a healthy dose of guilt. I’d hung up on her. Acted like I didn’t want to hear from her. When in reality, all I’d wanted to do was sit and talk with her for hours.

  A week ago, I thought that I was doing the right thing. But now that she’s here in front of me, I realize that more than two months have passed and I’m in the exact same place as I was before. I’m still hung up on her, and our situations haven’t improved. I don’t know what the hell to do anymore.

  “Yeah.” I nod slowly. “Just for a minute?”

  “Fine.” Emmy gives a curt nod as Peyton stands to let her out of the booth.

  “Are you sure, Emmy?” Peyton asks, giving me a withering stare. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  Oh, if looks could kill.

  “It’s okay, Peyton,” she says. “I’ll be fine.”

  I motion for her to go ahead of me and follow her out of the front door. Despite Glyka not being busy, Danforth Avenue is bustling. People are gathered together in small groups, chatting or smoking while they wait for a table at one of the many restaurants in the neighborhood.

  Emmy glances up at me uncertainly, and I put my hand on the small of her back. “Let’s find somewhere private to talk.”

  I lead her behind Glyka and into an empty alleyway. It’s quiet, and there aren’t many people walking along the side streets.

  Emmy leans against the brick wall and keeps her eyes on the ground.

  “How are you doing?” I finally ask.

  “How do you think I’m doing?” she replies, glancing up at me. Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “Besides, why do you even care?”

  “I do care,” I counter. “I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

  “You hurt me, Mav.” Her voice is soft, but the pain there is unmistakable. “You hurt me so much.”

  “Em.” I step closer to shelter her from the wind that’s whipping through the alley. “I never meant for you to be the one hurt in all of this,” I say quietly, running my hands up and down her arms. “Please, you have to understand that.”

  She brushes impatiently at the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. “But I am the one who’s hurt! The way you left things at the cottage, and the things you said to me? You were cruel, Will. Especially when you told me that you couldn’t be my friend anymore. You just completely cut me off. And when I finally—finally—got up the nerve to reach out to you, you acted like you never wanted to hear from me again.”

  Seeing the damage I’ve done here, and how badly I’ve fucked everything up? I feel just like I did back at the cottage on that horrible night: beaten, bruised, and sick to my stomach.

  She looks down at the pavement and shakes her head. “I have no idea what’s left for us to say to each other. And I don’t know why you’ve pulled me back here, because you’ve made yourself very clear, okay? I get it. You don’t want anything to do with me.”

  “No,” I choke out. I pull Emmy into my arms and bury my face against her neck. I’m shaking with emotion as I swallow down all of my frustrations and regrets.

  She grows very still, and I pull back to look down at her face. I reach up to stroke her cheek and get a little lost in those jade eyes.

  The resilient look on her face softens a bit as we study each other. Her sweet, minty breath makes little plumes of smoke in the air as she stares up at me in the dim light of the alley.

  Even now, ami
dst all the pain, the sparks arc and jump brightly between us. Our foreheads touch, and her eyes grow hooded and heavy as I slide my hand down to cup the back of her head. It’s the dreamy look I adore so fucking much.

  “Will, what are you doing?” she asks softly.

  I press a kiss against her neck and breathe in her sweet honeysuckle and violet-scented skin.

  “You asked me on the phone if I missed you. I do miss you, Emmy.” I brush my lips against the shell of her ear. “I miss you so much.”

  “No!” She utters a tiny sob and shoves me away. It takes me by complete surprise.

  “Em, listen—”

  “No! You listen! You don’t get to do this to me, Will. You don’t get to hold and touch me like this just to shut me out all over again when it gets to be too much for you. I’m trying to learn to live without you because that’s what you wanted.”

  She backs up another few steps. “This isn’t fair to me,” she continues. “You need to figure out if you want me in your life. But no more of this back and forth. It’s too hard.”

  I take off my toque and run a hand through my hair. “I thought that I was doing the right thing for everyone by walking away.” I ball my hands into fists and drag them down over my face. “God, I’m so fucked up. I’m so fucked up over this.”

  She stares up at me, her eyes solemn. “Me, too,” she whispers. “I feel like I’m falling apart.” She covers her face with her gloved hands and takes a deep breath. “I can’t do this. I have to go.”

  “Just a few more minutes. Please.” I’m not ready to let her go yet. Not like this.

  “Why? It’s not going to solve anything.” Another sob escapes her, and my heart breaks all over again. “You made it very clear to me that all we had was a hookup, remember? So what was that just now? Are you just trying to ‘get me out of your system’ again? I have no idea what’s going on in your head or your heart, Will, but know this: I have feelings for you. Real feelings, okay? I had them before you ever even kissed me. Before we ever slept together. So I didn’t just lose my best friend that night at the cottage. I lost the man I fell head-over-heels for.”