The Scars That Broke Her

Chapter 18

(Callan's POV)

I felt bad.

I wish there was more I could do for her.

I could see how much she was hurting. It was written all over her face and in everything she did. The way her small smile never reaches her eyes, or the dark bags that lay beneath her sparkling blue orbs; the way her fingers are always moving whether it is around that silly rubber band of hers or pulling at the skin around her nails, or the way she stares off into space, deep in thought, when she thinks no one is looking.

She thinks she hides it well.

She doesn't.

Perhaps that's why I'm so drawn to her. Perhaps it's because I can see that she needs help.

Perhaps it's because I know exactly what she's going through. 

I shut everyone out when my mother died. I thought no one understood the pain I was going through, I thought no one could help me feel whole again. For a long time, I believed I was alone. Because that's how I felt.

Losing someone is hard, it's even harder when it's a parent. It is the worst pain in the world, knowing that you can't do anything about it. There's no stopping it. No matter how hard you try, you can't stop the inevitable. No one should have to go through that kind of pain.

My eyes traveled out to the edge of the water, where she's been sitting since playing soccer with us. Her blond hair was pulled behind her head in braid that reached just below her shoulders. Her back was straight, like she had a stick beneath her shirt preventing her from slouching. She hasn't said a word to anyone since. Hasn't even looked at us. I know there must be so many thoughts running through her mind.

Beau's laughter drew me from my thoughts, pulling my eyes back to the group. We sat around a small fire that Jay made in the sand. A few of the soccer boys had a hot dog they were munching on mercilessly. Clove sat next to me; her eyes kept nervously glancing over her shoulder at Noa. It was killing her inside not being able to talk to her friend. She had tried to talk to Noa earlier, but to no avail. Tate had told her not to take it personally. That's how she processes.

I took a swig of my water, feeling cold liquid fall down my throat.

I wonder if Noa's thirsty. Or maybe she's hungry. Should I offer her some food?

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I just wish I knew how to help her. I wish there was something more I could do. I leaned over to Clove, not wanting to interrupt the current conversation – something about the new Marvel movie coming out?

"I'm going to go check on her." The least I could do was offer her something to eat. If she says no, at least I'll know I tried. I stood brushing off my shorts. Clove glanced at Noa's back longingly; her eyes were sad.

"Tell her I'm here if she wants a hug." Clove responded quietly.

I nodded, pulling on my sweatshirt. While it was warm by the fire, I knew down by the water would be a different story. How Noa was sitting down there in just her shorts and t-shirt was crazy to me. I reached down grabbing a plate and placing a hot dog on it along with a good handful of chips. I looked over at Noa once again. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and her arms were wrapped tightly around them. The wind whipped through her hair, pulling strands of it from her braid.

I'll bring a blanket just in case.

With a plate of food and a blanket in hand, I started down toward the beach. I couldn't help but feel nervous as I moved closer to her. She wasn't like most girls. She was funny – even though she doesn't try to be – and smart – even in chemistry – and she's real. She doesn't try to be something she's not. She's outspoken and will let you know if she doesn't like something.