Splintered [Complete | GB+SB]

Five: Gabe

I ended up staying at the diner for the rest of the night. No other customers came in — Luke said they were so new that no one knew they existed yet — and even when I was sure my stepmom would be asleep, Luke didn't want me risking it while I was still newly hurting. He said he couldn't keep me from going back there altogether, as much as he wanted to, but I at least agreed to stay with him until his shift ended at 6.

I spent most of that time wrapped up in his hoodie and asleep in my booth, until they seemed to get a rush of hungry folks around 5:30 or so, and Luke was being run ragged while I was taking up precious real estate, so I wrote him a note telling him I'd be back as soon as I could — either tonight after work or tomorrow — and wrapped it around my $20. I just knew he wouldn't let me pay if I tried to leave it in front of him, which is why I had to pretty much sneak out, but this was a new business starting out and needed all their customers to pay up.

I walked back down the road towards my house, amazed at how good I felt considering the night I had and sleeping in a restaurant booth, but I thought it was safe to believe that it was mainly just him. He did something for me that no one else ever had: he made me understand what others might see in me, the good they might see in me, and I wasn't so afraid of the attention anymore. And as for Kota and Nate, and my fears about ruining their friendship, Luke made me understand that it was their choice to make and not on my shoulders. That a lot of things could happen, and friendships change, and grow, and sometimes end, and that's difficult and sad but not always a bad thing. He told me that he was once part of a group of nine boys, friends so close that they considered themselves to be brothers, who had all mostly grown up together. The problem was, they ended up being stuck in their individual roles in the group, not really allowed to grow or change on their own, and it caused a lot of fights and bad feelings. Things got said, people got hurt, and their group splintered. Turned out there wasn't much holding them together, just habit and convenience, and as much as he loved all of them like family, their friendship didn't survive.

It had happened about a year ago, and he and his brother and two others were still a tight unit — even stronger after everything else fell apart — but the others kind of drifted away and went off to do their own thing. He was so sad when talking about it, and my heart ached for him for having that kind of bond then losing it, but I believed him when he said it was for the best. They were all so dependent on each other that they were stagnating, he said, and they all needed to figure out how to stand on their own. And maybe someday they could be friends again. He was so understanding and just...wise about it, so accepting that sometimes people fail us or we fail them, and we need to learn when it is better to walk away. And yet, he maintained some hope too. Whoever these men were, they must have been something special to have Luke's admiration and respect, even after the friendship died. I envied him, all of them, even though it was gone — I'd never felt that kind of unconditional support or care from anyone... though I was starting to wonder if maybe I might have it someday, if not with Luke than maybe with Sean, or Kota, or Nate, or someone else I hadn't even met yet.

And that's why I was practically floating along down Sunnyvale Court, feeling more hope for the future than I had in a decade.

I let myself into the house through the garage, the entrance as far away from my stepmom's bedroom as I could get. I could hear her TV blaring from her room, and more importantly, her rumbling snores drowning out even Judge Judy's piercing voice. The kitchen was a wreck, she had knocked everything off the countertops including the spice rack, and puffs of aromatic dust surrounded me as I crossed the floor. She'd also taken apart my purse in her rage, pulling everything out and destroying as much as she could before cutting the bag itself into pieces. It was a small canvas backpack I'd picked up at a thrift store, so no huge expense to replace, but I'd really liked that bag. I gathered up what I could salvage, leaving behind the remains of pens, chapstick, hand lotion, and breath mints crushed and ground into the linoleum. I managed to save my wallet and most of the contents except all my cash was gone, my book though whole sections had been torn out, and the composition book I used to keep track of everything I read, important things I learned, things I wanted to research further, and then all kinds of lists of things I wanted to do or stuff I needed to buy. That was virtually unscathed, which was a surprise and a delight — it must have fallen out and she didn't notice it because it was probably the most important and useful thing in my whole bag.