Broken (AU Calum Hood Fanfiction)

LXVIII

Jackie's POV:

By the time we make it to Santa Monica my coffee's almost gone but I'm no more alert. I swish the barely-there liquid around my cup, staring blankly at it like the caffeinated drink holds all the answers.

"Where?" Ashton asks, his tone heavy with fatigue as he breaks me from my thoughts.

"I have no idea. Just drive slow and we'll look for his car, I guess. He's probably not even here. This was a stupid idea." I mumble, checking my phone for the millionth time in hopes that Calum called or texted. But of course he didn't.

The beach is practically empty, only the dedicated athletes out this early. My eyes wander down to the clock in the center console of Ashton's car - 5:58 am. The radio's still playing softly and I hear the overly energetic DJ announce that today is New Years Eve - something that completely slipped my mind after Calum left.

The sky's bright now but it's still cold and windy. I see someone surfing and take a second to admire their bravery because it must be so cold that it hurts, even with a wetsuit clinging to their skin.

"Hey," Ashton waves his arm haphazardly, bumping me in the shoulder clumsily. His gesture pulls my gaze from the water to a car in front of us.

To Calum's car.

"Oh." I sigh, relief flooding my veins at the sight. I knew I was stressed and tired and emotional and everything in between but seeing his car makes me want to collapse with the realization that he's okay. With the realization that the sick and paranoid feeling I had in the pit of my stomach when I heard the sirens earlier was unfounded. That he's okay. And that because he's okay, I'm okay.

But there's still knots in my abdomen as my hand opens the car door and my feet hit the asphalt. The laces of my chuck taylors shift with the wind, and my hair goes all directions but my eyes are fixed on the driver side of Calum's car. I reach the fender and realize that I must've been running because I got here too quickly for walking.

I force my feet to slow down as I make my way to him. But I finally make it. And there he is. He looks peaceful in a way, miserable and grief-stricken in another. His seat's reclined and his head's lolled to the side, sleep holding onto him, and I'm just so damn relieved at the sight of him.

I try to open the door but it's locked so my hand returns to my side absentmindedly. All I want to do is bang on the glass and yell about how shitty this was of him to do, about how pissed I am about him taking off and staying out all night. To open the damn door and pull him out by the collar while tears finally flow. But I don't do any of those things and I don't think I have any more tears to shed at this hour. So instead I close my eyes for a fraction of a second, blocking out the newly dawned sun. And then I knock gently, softly, and lovingly, when in reality I want to break the glass panel that separates us into a million pieces.

When his eyes meet mine I realize that I haven't taken a breath since I got here. I inhale, the coldness of California mornings coating my lungs as the boy that holds my world in his shaking hands squints up at me.

"Jackie?" I hear him ask, watching as he sits up slowly.

He winces as the door is unlocked and opened, his hand moving up to rub his temple.

"What're you doing here?" he mumbles.

"What am I doing here?" I scoff, pulling him into an embrace despite my harsh tone. And that's exactly it. I'm furious with him for leaving like he did. For disappearing for as long as he did. For everything. But all is temporarily forgiven once my arms are around his torso and his fingertips press into my waist just like they always do. The way that I hunger for them to.