The Opposite of Falling Apart [Formerly Three and a Half Good Legs]

10 (free sample)

J O N A S

The next day found Jonas spending his time moping around the house. His brother was gone (as usual), Taylor was at soccer practice, and his dad was at work. That left his mom, who was off for the day. That didn't stop her from working though; she was hard at work scrubbing the entire house from top to bottom, her hair tied up and apron on. Jonas watched her. She used to dance in the kitchen when she cleaned the floors, radio on and arms all swaying. Jonas couldn't help but think it was his fault that she didn't anymore. So he sat on the couch, moodily frowning at the turned-off tv.

Jonas's mom seemed to pick up on his bad mood and didn't really engage him, whether to remind him of his doctor's appointment later that day (the one he didn't want to go to at all) or to suggest some other activity (that involved leaving the house) that he might enjoy.

He didn't feel like being in his room all day, which was strange, because there was usually no place he enjoyed being more. He didn't really feel up to going out, and his leg hurt, but he didn't feel like doing nothing.

It was strange. Since he had gone out, since he had given himself the chance to see that he could indeed successfully leave the house, he'd stopped being completely content to stay inside. Like, since he'd given it a chance, it had ruined his contentment with doing nothing.

The only problem was that he wasn't quite ready to admit that to himself yet, so here he was, camped out in the living room, his own personal compromise between hiding in his bedroom and going out.

Eventually, his mom put away her apron and grabbed her purse and keys. "Time to go," she said, hesitantly, watching him from the door. Jonas wordlessly got up and retrieved his crutches. He'd chosen to wear the prosthetic leg—he'd been wearing it more and more lately—but he still wasn't going to actually walk on it.

"I've got to go to the grocery store afterwards," Jonas's mom said. "If you don't want to go, you could always drive yourself to the doctor's?" She sounded like she'd rather take him to see the doctor, and then drag him around the grocery store as well.

"No," Jonas shook his head. "I'd rather not drive."

"All right," she said, nodding and heading out the door. Jonas followed her, and got into the passenger seat of her van (which was nicer than the Bus: newer, and with air conditioning). He stared out the window as they drove, the trees and the buildings blurring into smears of color as they eventually picked up speed onto the highway, headed downtown.

When they reached the doctor's office, his mom came around to open the passenger door for him.

"I'm not an invalid," he snapped, probably too harshly, he thought, judging by the hurt look in her eyes.

"I know, Bird," his mom said, backing off. She suddenly looked tired again. Jonas hadn't realized she'd been starting to perk up over the past couple weeks, but the change in her now made it evident. "I was just...trying to help," she added, softly.

Just, just...always just... "I'm not going to break, Mom." Jonas avoided meeting her eyes as he got out and positioned his crutches, making his way to the door of the doctor's office.

It was home to many doctors, and many specialties, several of which Jonas had become familiar with over the last year. It was a big building, too stark and too clean for Jonas's taste. And it smelled like a hospital, which he hated.

There were a list of things Jonas thought about when he thought about hospitals, and none of them were pleasant:

1. Flashes of lights on the ceiling