A Million Shattered Pieces

Chapter Twenty-Two

~ "These mountains that you are carrying, you were only supposed to climb."

The days leading up to my doctor's appointment seemed to drag. Worry hit me so hard, I ended up locking myself in my bedroom the entire night before the meeting. I wasn't sure whether I should be grateful there might be a way to control my anxiety, or furious with my mother for giving me so little notice, not even bothering to ask me if I wanted to talk to someone about it now or later.

I woke up before dawn, and glanced out the window, across the street. Brock's bedroom light was on. I couldn't contain the smile as I grabbed my phone and dialed his number.

He answered after two rings. "Hello?"

"Happy birthday!" I had to whisper the words, though I tried my best to sound enthusiastic about it.

Brock laughed. "Thank you. Why are you up so early?"

"Pre-doctor nerves, I guess. I haven't been able to get much sleep the past week thinking about it."

"Don't worry. You'll be fine. If you have any questions about the sessions that you aren't comfortable asking the doctor, you can talk to me about it. I'm always here for you, okay?"

I continued to watch his bedroom window from my own. He appeared in it, waving at me.

"I know you are," I said, staring at his figure that was so far away. "And I'll always be here for you. Now, why don't we talk about something else? Like the fact that you're technically an adult now."

Another low laugh. "Eighteen's not that big a deal. Another year older is hardly need for celebration."

"Yes, it is. It means you've survived another year." The smile fell away. I pressed my palm against the cold glass, still looking across the street.

Brock did the same on his own side. "I guess so." He no longer sounded happy.

"What are we going to do on your special day? Besides the dinner, of course."

"We can do whatever you'd like."

I snorted, turning away from the window to study the overflowing bookcase at the other side of my room. "You do know that you're the one who's supposed to choose today, right?"

"I choose what you want to do."

I rolled my eyes, and shook my head even though I knew he couldn't see. "You are impossible."

"And so are you."

"Guess that's why we're always hanging out with each other." I grinned, pushing the glasses that had begun to slide down my nose back up. "Listen, I should probably get dressed and ready for the appointment. It's at nine." I sighed.

The other side of the line was silent for a breath. I heard rustling in the background before Brock answered. "I'll be there to pick you up. Any idea what time you'll be done?"

"It shouldn't take longer than a few minutes."

"Great. I'll see you then. Talk to you later." I mumbled the same words, and Brock hung up.

My mom ran down the stairs at half past eight. Her hair had been piled atop her head in a messy bun, the absence of makeup enough to surprise me. It was rare to see her go out in public au naturel.

"Hey, Mom, you look nice today."

She rolled her eyes, pulling her coat around her. A blast of cold air hit us both when she threw the door open. Patches of snow littered the front lawn, the result of the previously warm weather. It would just be a matter of time before another snowfall.