Breaking the Arm, Healing the Heart

by Ashley Andrews

  "At least I have two arms," Mallory called out to him. "And what do you have?"

  "An appetite," was Lucas' simple answer, a calculated dig.

  Those two words struck every nerve inside her body. Anger flared as the hairs on her skin began to stand up. An eerie feeling washed over her body and she simply felt humiliated. She let out a small screech and stomped her way over to Lucas.

  He hadn’t moved, choosing to ignore the elevating drama and Mallory’s little hissy fit. He sat, still relaxed with his good hand leaning on the cement bleacher.

  "That was like so last year," she said, standing right in front of him. Actually it had been several years. "Past is past."

  "But you'll still be the bulimic bitch to me forever and ever," was his reply. He was hurting, so he struck out to hurt someone else. Mal was an easy target as Lucas did his worst.

  "God," the cheerleader returned with a roll of her eyes. The crowd around them, teacher excluded, began to listen to every word the two spoke. "What's gone up your ass and died there?"

  Lucas, about to answer, was stopped by Mallory when she held out her arm with her hand right in front of his face.

  Their Gym teacher was shouting at the students. Ineffectively trying to get their attention and force them back to the game. But no one would leave the unfolding drama.

  "Oh, I forgot," she said, her eyes glued to his. "Your parents are getting divorced. You are sulking like a big baby."

  Lucas didn't open his mouth. In fact, he didn't answer her at all and this made Mallory smile. She had the last word in this heated exchange which meant she won, and Lucas Mercer losing was something that rarely happened.

  Lucas wanted to hit Mal so badly. She was standing there, her hips swaying, suggesting that she was trying to be seductive. But her mouth was all venom and hate. But yet he had started this verbal war. And he was a man that would never, ever hit a girl. Mallory was feistier than usual today, but instead of getting turned on with her newfound attitude, like he had been with Sicily this past week, he felt the complete opposite.

  "You bitch," he sighed. Not really caring.

  * * * * *

  Sicily sighed, thankful the lunch bell rang. She gathered her things and waited for Bailey who was busy scribbling something on her new Starbucks planner. When she was done they all left the classroom, heading first to their lockers in order to dump the last load of text books, before they made their way to the cafeteria.

  When they got there, loud noises and manly shouting assaulted their ears. The noise was coming from their usual lunch tale. She glanced around to reassure herself it was just the normal din and nothing unusual. When she was satisfied that everything was okay she nodded at Zane and they went to stand in line to grab something to eat.

  They were soon interrupted when a few of their guy friends joined them.

  "Yo," one of them, Garrett, greeted. "I saw Mercer the other day and you did him good."

  Sicily rolled her eyes and grimaced. Lucas. Lucas. And more Lucas. God, she thought. What was wrong with her school that the only thing they had to talk about was the rival schools big time jock? "Sorry, but I didn't sleep with him," she answered. "If that's what you mean with doing him good.”

  "You said that, not me," was his reply as he held out his hands in surrender.

  Another one in the group, Brent, placed a hand over her mop of hair before he gave her a noogie and Sicily immediately and instinctively swatted his hand away.

  "Don't touch the hair," she said in mock-annoyance. "It took me thi-"

  "I know, Barbie," he cut her off. "It took you thirty minutes to fix that." He pointed at her loose wavy brown locks that at some places were streaked with maroon.

  "Shut up, dork," she said, smirking. "And why do all of you call me Barbie? Even Luke calls me that," she stopped herself, too late.

  "Getting friendly now with Luke, huh?" Another one, Jack, teased, and then every one of the guys laughed at the cheerleader.

  She buried her face in her hands before she stomped her feet in a mock snit. Raising her head she looked at them all. "Fine," she said in a whiny tone. "Lucas," she said with her voice having a sharp edge to it. "Lucas calls me Barbie too, and I know that nickname is somewhat derogatory."

  "Oh no," Zane said, talking for the first time since his group of friends had interrupted. "It’s not derogatory. We call you that because you're just a doll, that's what we mean."

  "Oh, so you mean, I'm a toy?"

  "Even better," Garrett replied grinning. "A fuck toy, that’s what you are."

  "Bastard!" she punched him. "I'm not blonde and I'm not dumb!"

  "But doesn't Barbie have friends with other hair colors?" was Garrat’s reply. He ignored the punch and kept up with the conversation about Barbie. "And I know they're just as screwed as she is."

  "And you know this how?" Sicily asked in a teasing manner as she gave her friend a mischievous smile.

  Garrett simply shrugged his shoulders in return and squared them before he opened his mouth to say, "What? When the nanny is busy my mom makes me to watch over my sister. She loves the blonde bimbo."

  "Right, right," she said, narrowing her eyes and pretending to be suspicious.

  "Seriously!" he returned, his voice growing louder. "Damn. You're hurting my manhood!"

  "And you're hurting my stomach!” was Sicily's response. "I'm so hungry already. I'm going to get a burger."

  "Oh, did you guys hear? That Mallory bitch is bulimic," One of them said when the conversation shifted to food.

  Sicily smirked before she said, "Uh, yeah," while she looked at her friends in a what-the-hell kind of way. "If I remember correctly, I revealed that little secret of hers to the whole world."

  "Oh, bitch," Brent replied.

  "She's probably voodoo doll-ing you as we speak," another one of them teased, laughing.

  "Harsh. Have a heart." That was Zane.

  "I will the moment she shoves a slice of pizza down her throat," Sicily replied.

  "She'll probably do that when Hell freezes over," one of them said in response.

  All of them looked at each other, shook their heads, smiled, laughed, and then said, "Not a chance."

  * * * * *

  "A calorimeter is an apparatus used in measuring" the teacher said while Lucas dozed off.

  His arm hurt. And he was so tired. He just slumped down on his seat lay his head on his good arm to rest for a minute. He could still hear his teacher talking but the words he spoke seemed like another language.

  "Mr. Mercer," the professor called out, but Lucas remained unmoving.

  He called out Lucas' name again and the student looked up and raised his eyebrow.

  Luke hadn’t heard his name the first time, but he got the second one. He scanned the board in front of him and saw a problem scribbled across it. "Do you want me to answer that?" he asked, yawning in between words.

  "What else would I call you for?"

  "You answer that," Lucas replied.

  He didn't like teachers, not even his young female educators since most of them thought they were better than the people they were teaching. Or that’s the way it seemed to him, just because they could give them detention and other punishments. Lucas' Chemistry teacher was no exception.

  "Don't challenge me," was Mr. Pirelli's response.

  "You feel challenged by a person two decades younger than you?" Lucas said emotionlessly. "I think I'll write that achievement down on my college applications."

  Lucas couldn't help but yawn at that exact moment since here he was standing in front of all his classmates (like always) while the teacher tried to act all cool and tough by embarrassing his student. But Lucas was far from feeling humiliated, he just didn't care.

  "I think the principal would like to see you," his teacher threatened.

  Lucas rolled his eyes before he sighed in an exasperated manner. That's why he didn't like teachers. "Cool. And if you want, I'll save a seat in his office for you," he said before he st
ood up and left the room.

  * * * * *

  At the end of the day, Lucas couldn't wait to leave Marina. The entire school day had been filled with comments on his injury, more comments about Sicily, and a few observations on Mallory’s past eating disorder. None of these topics made him feel good. His pride and ego were at an all time low.

  It didn’t help that right after school there was going to be basketball practice, and he wasn't going to go. He couldn't go.

  Chapter 8: Just Keep Using Me

  Sicily found herself sitting on one of the luxurious couches at the Mercer mansion, waiting for Lucas to come down for their weekly babysitting sessions. She rolled her eyes. She really didn't like the word babysit, more so, she despised the idea of having to watch over an eighteen-year old. Let’s face it, she wasn’t really watching over him, so much as being his social director.

  Minutes passed and still, no footsteps were heard. It was a Friday afternoon and that meant parties, but lo and behold, she had to babysit so she wasn't going anywhere tonight. She let out an exasperated sigh at that thought.

  "Why do I have to watch over him?" she asked herself and then looked up to question the Almighty One himself. "That no-good, disrespectful, unappreciative ass. After all, he told me to leave last week just because his parents are getting a divorce!" Sicily continued ranting to herself, practically cursing the owner of this house until a pretend cough brought her back to her innocent and well-mannered façade.

  She turned around and looked at the grand staircase. A familiar figure had finally decided to grace her with his presence. She looked at his eyes, and for a moment there, she thought he looked sad, and hurt. But then she laughed mentally. Lucas Mercer? Hurt? Uh-huh, right.

  "Sorry you had to wait. I got home late, and then took a bath," he greeted. "This took longer than usual because of the injury you gave me."

  "How can you still play basketball?" the brunette questioned bluntly. "You're literally useless." She saw his eyes darken and realized that she had really screwed up. The words had come out wrong and now she couldn’t take them back.

  She moved back a step, away from all that anger, and waited for him to say something. They went on staring at each other for a few minutes or so. He was so good looking. She swore that she could fall in love with him if he would just keep his mouth shut and didn't speak a word. His blunt and ever-degrading mouth ruined him. That mouth was why she didn’t like Lucas most of the time.

  "You really don't know when to shut up, do you?" he said, his voice scathing.

  "Look who's talking,” was her reply.

  "You're the one coming up with conclusions," he said with his head faced down as if he were hurt. "I was in detention for your information, not at basketball practice."

  "So what am I supposed to do now?" she asked, slowly becoming angry. "Mock you? Tease you? Feel sorry for you? Or maybe I should degrade you?"

  Lucas blinked. He had expected an apology, not an attack. Then he realized what she had just said. He looked at her carefully. She was exactly right. "Sorry, Hun," he said, looking up and giving her a killer smile. "That's my area of expertise."

  Sicily laughed silently and she slapped herself mentally. They had been slightly mad at each other literally seconds ago. Now they were teasing and smirking as if they’d undergone a personality makeover in a matter of seconds. She couldn't understand why Lucas could make her act like this. How she hated him one minute and like him the next. She couldn't understand that, but now she could understand how so many girls followed the basketball player and every command he gave despite his rude character. He was attraction personified.

  "And you're proud of that?" she asked in mock-confusion. "Maybe you were dropped on your head when your mom gave birth to you."

  Lucas immediately closed down when she mentioned his mother. The upcoming divorce was still fresh in his mind. Like he could forget about it since the mechanics of the divorce were literally taking place right in front of him. His dad lived at the house with the two boys. Lawyers from both sides were coming in-and-out of the house. His mom was staying at a hotel but he didn’t want to ask if things had changed because his father's packed bags were piled up and stacked on the covered porch. He and Theodore were almost always alone at dinner time, as neither parent seemed to be around much.

  Lucas sighed. He was going to break soon.

  "I was being sarcastic, you know," Sicily said, stepping closer to the male. "In case you took what I said seriously."

  "Spaced out for a while," he said, avoiding eye contact. "Sorry."

  Sicily knew exactly what was going on. Lucas was thinking about his parents and the divorce, and that saddened him. Sicily felt bad for him. Lately she’d seen a different side of Marina's renowned player, a softer side, a more vulnerable one. She didn't know if she should rejoice or not. It might not be a permanent part of his psyche. And besides, if the divorce had made this change in him, that was obviously overkill as a form of therapy.

  "Do you want to go out?" she asked, hoping he would say yes since she didn't want to be stuck in such a gloomy household for the rest of the night.

  "Are you asking me out?" he returned, raising his eyebrows.

  Sicily laughed. Despite everything that was going on with him, he still had the capacity to have fun and treat all the drama lightheartedly. He wasn't really letting his injury and the divorce get to him. At least he made the effort to not focus on that exclusively.

  "If you're desperate for a yes, then fine," she concluded. "This can be a date."

  "In my opinion, you're the desperate one."

  Sicily looked at Lucas in disbelief. Her? Desperate for a guy? Uh-huh, yeah, when pigs fly. Before she could comment on his obviously erroneous statement, a hand covered hers and led her outside the house.

  Turning the sky into colors of red, orange, and pink, the sun was going down. The wind blew colder as night fell. They got into Sicily's car and drove to the nearest Cold Stone ice cream parlor. They entered the place and headed over to the cashier, and it was only then did they realize that they’d been discovered.

  "Sicily, is that you?" Vanessa spoke up. "And you're with Lucas?"

  Sicily turned around and came face-to-face with her close friend. They looked at each other for a minute or so until Sicily said, "You know what my dad's making me do."

  "Why are you hanging out with him in public?" another cheerleader asked.

  "Because we're on a date," Lucas butted in teasingly.

  She knew he was only joking, but that wasn't what he was supposed to say. He wasn't supposed to say anything at all actually. She let out a deep sigh, one which told everyone she was getting irritated.

  "Sicily," Bailey said, confused but not mad. "Are you really?"

  "Hell no."

  Sicily never realized how much that hurt him. Lucas felt as if he had been stabbed. She was humiliating him in front of her friends and this shouldn’t be happening to him. Why did he have to open his mouth in the first place?

  "Good," one of Sicily's friends said as she gave her co-cheerleaders looks of relief.

  "I'm just treating him to ice cream since his parents are getting a divorce."

  Damn.

  Damn.

  Damn. Damn. Damn!

  Sicily bit her lip. Why did she have to say that? She turned around to look at Lucas. The expression on his face was one of complete betrayal and hurt. How could she have done that?

  She’d just jabbed him with a knife and twisted. She wanted to hit herself in front of her friends. Wait, wait, wait. She shook her head. This was Lucas Mercer she was talking about, the arrogant player who looked down on everyone he crossed paths with. Why was she feeling sorry for him?

  "Oh, my gosh! Your parents are getting a divorce?" Vanessa asked surprised, and Sicily didn't know whether she was just acting or not. "So do they still live under the same roof?"

  Sicily looked at Vanessa in shock. What did that have to do with anything?

  Lucas shook
his head. It was no wonder that Sicily could act so bitchy at times. Her friends were like exact replicas of the cheerleader personality-wise. Lucas looked at Sicily in disbelief before he bent down to be able to whisper in her ear. "You're as heartless as your friends," he said in a very soft voice he was sure only she heard what he said.

  Sicily had actually just had the same thought. She was ready to apologize to him. She turned, working up the courage to really do this right, but she wasn’t given a chance.

  Before she could even look up to meet his eyes, he had turned around and left the ice cream parlor. She was about to run and catch up on him, but a hand grabbed her shoulder to stop her.

  "Let him go." Zane said.

  "Bu-, but…I have t-"

  "You've hurt him enough," her best friend said to her.

  She turned to look at her girl friends and saw that they were all, with the exception of Bailey, smiling at her as if she’d just won a cheerleading tournament instead of been unbelievably mean to someone.

  She smiled meekly at them, but deep inside she wanted to run to Lucas and make him forgive her. But her reputation…she couldn't leave her friends. "Aren't you guys supposed to be at some party?" she asked them with an eyebrow cocked up.

  "Hun, have you heard of the phrase fashionably late?” Vanessa said before she let out a small giggle.

  Sicily smiled, but what her friend said wasn't really humorous at all. She just grinned for the sake of not embarrassing her, and a thought suddenly came to her mind. She was being biased. Here she was protecting her friend, who she knew usually backstabbed her, from mortification while she let her friends laugh at Lucas, who may have been evil towards her before but was now treating her much better.

  "Do you want to come with us?" Zane asked, wearing a serious look as he cut into Sicily's thoughts.

  She wanted to go with them, to party and drink, but then after a moment, decided otherwise. She was going to do the right thing for once. This meant that she was going to go offer a sincere apology to Lucas. And hope that she hadn’t hurt him too much. "I think I'll pass on this one," she said. "I need to come up with some new dances for our routine. You guys will kill me if I don't have everything figured out by next week." She closed her eyes for a second and hoped they would believe her lie.