Shattered

Chapter 1

August 2nd, 2014

My heart beats quickly. I'm trying to breathe, but the air has turned thick and heavy. The world tilts, and colors shift. Reality falls and shatters, glass around my feet. Someone screams. I realize it's me.

"Demi! Demi! Look at me. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay." The boy who says these words grips my hands so tightly, his knuckles turn completely white.

I think I stop screaming, and oxygen starts coming into my lungs.

"Demi, look into my eyes, okay? Concentrate. Breathe. You're going to get through this."

I do what he asks. Slowly, the world returns to normal.

"Hey," He says, grinning. "There you are. You okay now?"

"Um, yeah. I think so. I'm so sorry," I say shakily.

"Hey, don't be sorry. It's alright." He takes one of my vibrating hands and gently holds it.

I try to stand, but my legs are wobbly, and the ground starts tilting, so I drop back down into the soft grass, damp with the evening dew.

"It's okay. Take it slow," he says.

"Don't- don't worry about me. I know you have a job you need to get to."

"Listen, you're more important to me than some stupid job."

"Ari, you can't keep skipping your job for me. You're going to get fired."

It doesn't matter," he says stubbornly. "It's a freaking arcade. It's really not going to matter in the long run."

"What if it does though?"

"It probably won't. Anyway, I now get to spend this time with you," he says, grinning.

I give up, knowing it's no use to argue. Once he's made up his mind there's no trying to change it.

His eyes sparkle as he pulls out a cheap wooden necklace, colored with orange marker. Half of a heart that says best in a child's handwriting.

"No way! You still have it? I made those in like, third grade!" I exclaim.

"Oh, you don't have yours?" he asks, disappointed.

I pull mine out from where it rests against my chest.

"Of course I do. I don't take it off."

"Neither do I," he says.

He lies down in the grass, hands behind his head, looking at the sky.

"Do you ever wonder what's out there?" I ask. "Like, maybe we could build a rocket and find some other culture living among the stars."

"Maybe."

I lie down beside him, staring up into the sky, watching the setting sun color the sky in its wonderous ways. He moves one of his strong arms out from where it rests and puts it around my shoulders protectively. We lie there, silent, for who knows how long, watching the stars twinkle and glow. The moon slowly moves across the sky in its mesmerizing fashion.

With a sigh, he sits up and says, "I should probably get going home now. My parents are probably wondering where the heck I am."

Lucky. I wish mine gave a crap about what I do.

He stands and tossels his shaggy hair, then reaches a warm hand down to help me stand. "I'll walk you home."

"Thank you," I say. We walk hand in hand for the full ten minute trek to my house, the touch sending tingles throughout my body.