BROKEN GLASS. TOM KAULITZ

v . just an illusion

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THE FALL TAKES NO TIME AND FOREVER. I land on my feet for a split second and then my legs crumple and I'm flat on my back and I don't know whether to laugh or cry or swear because I can't believe the other branch broke, so I just lay there not moving instead.

"Jesus...Priscilla?" Dead leaves crunch under Tom's feet as he hurries over. I should say something. He kneels down, his face hovering over mine and I catch a view of all his features.

Soft caramel brown eyes, long eyelashes, birthmark on his cheek, perfect nose, soft lips...his face...it's...

"Priscilla? Are you okay?" He asks again, ruining my train of thought.

"Tom, I can't feel my legs."

He turns white. "Are you serious?"

"No."

"Not funny," he snaps. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine."

I prop myself up on my elbow and ignore the insistent, toothachelike pain going on in my right ankle. He doesn't need to know about that. "Nice catch," I say.

He laughs and stands, brushing the dirt from his knees. "Like I was gonna catch you. Come on, let's get out of here; it's getting dark." I extend my hands.

Tom looks surprised, but he grabs me by the wrists and hoists me up. I stumble into him. We're so close I could smell the fresh detergent scent emitting from his hoodie mixed with that teakwood cologne smell.

Busted. He gives me a look. "You hurt yourself, didn't you?"

"Nothing's broken."

"But you hurt yourself, didn't you?"

"I've had worse injuries on the cheerleading squad." I dismiss, waving a hand around as I try to step back.

"Priscilla," Tom says impatiently. "What hurts?"

"My ankle." I admit, looking down at my feet.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He pauses and looks awkward. "Uh...do you need to lean on me or-,"

"No," I say emphatically. "I'm good for limping, thanks."

"I have this crazy feeling you'd say that even if you weren't." We make our way back through the woods. I take a sharp breath in for every step forward, but I don't think it's anything serious.

I'll get the compress out when I get home and I'll be good for Monday or I could run up and down the stairs until it's so inflamed I couldn't possibly make it to school.

But I'll give Tom credit. He slows his pace to accommodate my stupid injury and he doesn't go tearing off into the woods like I might've done to him. I kind of wish he would, though, as he feels the need to pass the time by talking.

"So what'd you do that you have to see Ms. Gardner once a week?" He speaks softly, almost like this is forbidden to bring up. Which it is, but Tom doesn't know that. He doesn't need to know anything, actually.

"Run-of-the-mill-delinquent stuff" I say. "It's none of your business."

"Okay." Limp, limp, limp.

"I got drunk at school. A lot. Earlier this year." I only admit it because it's something he probably already knows. People talk. I can't be the first person he's asked about me.

He shoves his hands in his pockets. "Do you have, like...a problem?"

"Yeah, and that was my solution." He looks all uncomfortable and I laugh. "Lighten up. If I say I don't, you wouldn't believe that, right? Anyone who says they don't have a drinking problem usually does."

"Do they?" he asks. I take a hard step on my ankle and gasp. He pauses, but I wave him off before he can ask if I'm okay. We keep moving and he starts talking again.

God, I wish he'd shut up. "So why did you drink?"

"I-," Limp, limp, limp. "What does Chris tell you about me?"

"He said the pressures of being popular made your brain snap."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

I'm so touched; he lied for me. Might as well go along with it.

"It was something like that, yeah."

"I'm sorry it was so hard for you," Tom mutters and he means it. And then he gets quiet, but now I want to talk.

"Do you feel you know me a little better now?" I look at him as we walk, he's looking straight ahead.

It's silent for a couple more steps and then he gives me an appraising look, "You're not that bad."

"It's the sprained ankle. It ups my likability because I can't kick your ass with a broken foot," I start. "You probably have a thing for girls when they're vulnerable because they make you feel so big and strong-,"

He shakes his head with a light chuckle. "I take it back; you are that bad. You're-," he pauses, taking a deep calculated breath. "Never mind; just shut up."

"You totally softened after I fell out of the tree. I'm just saying." I tease, poking his arm and he rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I think any decent human being would." He picks up the pace. My ankle gives me no choice but to fall behind.

"I wouldn't," I say to his back.

We split up at the corner to my house after I give him directions to Chris's and it's tense and awkward and unhappy, but that's the way I like it.

"Tom, wait!" I call out and he stops abruptly, not immediately turning around to face me, but he does eventually.

"What, Priscilla?" He's irritated with me, I could feel it.

"You should know...well, everyone should know...there's no such thing as a decent human being." I don't know why I said it, but it keeps coming out. Projectile word vomit. It won't stop, and I'm probably scaring him more than I already have.

"It's all an illusion...and when it's gone, it's really gone."

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author's note
little filler while i decide on what to name priscilla's dog when she gets him.