How He Broke My Heart

Chapter 7

(I feel like I'm drowning by Two Feet)

I walk over to the shop Monday morning with plans on quitting, but Sally isn't there. Brandon greets me, knowing how I feel without even asking me, knowing that I feel someway towards him. I tell him that I'm leaving then he says that I'm not quitting. I take my seat up front and ignore him, though he doesn't say much to me, really, nothing at all until his break. "I'm going on break," he says.

He confuses me. It's like what happened that night never did, like I am the only one who remembers it. He said many things. He said I was interesting and mysterious and beautiful and stubborn...beautiful. Was that Brandon or some identical twin?

After I come back from my break, I find Brandon talking with a girl by the press. It's the same delicate red-head from the time before. Their voices are hushed, not wanting me to hear, and I can't tell if I'm relieved or hurt that Brandon has already forgotten about me. I should be relieved—I told him to never talk to me again and he's listening. So I take my seat up front and let him handle the two young boys who come in, forcing him to leave the conversation with the redhead. I hear him say "I'll see you later, okay?" Later? Why would he say what he did to me if he's clearly with someone else? I was right then. He's no good. I dodged a bullet then.

I smile to myself. Ha!

Brandon can't be on my mind anyway, I have Kaden to look out for. Maybe I shouldn't be sitting in front of the shop. Maybe I should bury myself in the back...but what if he's only talking to this girl to make me jealous. Oh, the things I could tell him to make him jealous. The things I could wear. Oh, the things I used to wear. No wonder why I got so much attention, I was half naked all the time, all of us were. Brandon doesn't know that girl though. It's not worth bringing her back.

I worried everyone with the broken chair. This morning I was welcomed by my mother scolding me and asking if I was into 'bad things' again. I said no. She would be heartbroken if I told her that the mistake was organic. I apologized to my Aunt and struggled to tell the truth. It was new to me—not lying. It wasn't all terrible, though. I did attend the party after all, I didn't completely mess up. This morning I was also greeted by a purple bruise on my side, nasty and sensitive which reminded me of the bruises Hunter left on my arms.

I see girls like this red-head and dream of being them sometimes. Like Hannah—the girl who sat here before me and who I named—anyone but myself really. Even Lauren, maybe. Maybe even Marissa. Maybe the ten year-old-girl walking by my post right now with ice cream dripping onto her fingers. She licks her hand and holds onto her mother.

I dream of being that young again, to never make the mistakes I did. To start over. Everyone would kill for the chance at least once in their life.

"Emma," Brandon calls from further in, "unbox these transfers and sort them, and I'll bring out the new clothes."

I clench my jaw, sliding off of my seat, watching as the girl disappears down the walkway. I slip past Brandon as he carries out boxes and sets them on the counter, cutting through the masking tape with the blade of a pair of scissors. The other presses into his palm. I head to the back and stare into the already opened box, taking the sealed packets and prying them open with my nails. The first are the Hawaiian flower transfers. When I'm done it's closing time, and I leave before Brandon as he always closes up when Sally isn't here. I glance to the seawall as I make my way down the walkway, suddenly turning and crossing the street. I lean over and look back to the shop, seeing Brandon locking the doors. Hopping over, I steadily climb down the rocks and pick up a few shells, shoving them in my small bag.

I feel them carefully between my fingers, grains of sand pressing into my skin. Every piece is broken, but I take them anyway. When I get home, I wash them off and place them one by one on the windowsill beside my past finds. The sun is preparing to set and I change my clothes, wearing my pajamas early—specifically the only matching set I have. A purple top that has tiny white hearts covering it with identical bottoms. My mother got them for me without asking.