His Girl

Crumble

I felt tension ruminating within Breaker as we took our place on the food service line. I was on eggshells. After a few moments, he removed his sweatshirt. He no longer cared if mom saw the giveaways of his tattoos.

Several minutes later, he walked away. It wasn't alarming immediately since we could take breaks when needed, but after a while it became concerning.

"Where's Adam?" Mom asked.

I shrugged. I was shifting on my feet, nervous. I wanted to tell her everything, that way if anything happened she'd understand. Whatever it was, it wasn't his fault.

"Chanel, are you okay?" She noticed that I was choking up. My throat was tight, I couldn't stop the water from flooding my eyes.

"Did you two argue?" she asked. I shook my head and then hurried off to find him.

He was in the walk-in refrigerator. I let myself in. He was pacing, mumbling. It was bad.

"Breaker," I put my hands on his. He pulled away and kept pacing.

"He could at least eat what we brought him."

"He will. He just looked like he wanted to see you."

"Did he even look like he knew who I was, Chanel?"

"I don't know." He was right, he didn't.

"The first time that bastard, Daryl, hit my mom, do you know what I said? 'I'm gonna tell my dad.' I took off down the street, I was gonna find him." He shook his head, his fist hit a large slab of butter. It dented the side. "He laughed at me. He knew. Did that man look like he could help anyone?"

"Breaker, baby." I was getting closer to him. "It's okay."

"It's not okay. You know, I'd have more respect for you if you were honest. At least Daryl was honest. You should be laughing at me."

More respect for me? What was that supposed to mean? Suddenly, I felt vulnerable. Like I was naked in front of him and he said he didn't respect me. It was degrading.

He exited the refrigerator, I was close behind trying to get him to look at me.

"I'm sorry, Chanel, this just isn't going to work." He was walking away.

"Breaker, no!" I tried to hold his hand but he pulled away. I saw mom out of the corner of my eye. She was watching.

"Let go." He pulled his hands away from me. "For good."

"But I love you! We're going to get away from it all, you said. You promised."

"Promises get broken." He flung the back door open, he was gone.

Instinctively, I went after him. Mom grabbed my shoulders. We struggled but I was too weak with devastation to fight with her. I slumped down against the door until I was sitting. She knelt down, I hunched over crying harder than I'd ever cried before. Even when we lost dad. It wasn't that I didn't love dad just as much, it was that I always knew I wouldn't be with my parents forever, that's not the expectation. But Breaker, that was the rest of my life. Gone.

"Oh, honey. Did you guys just break up?"

"Mom," I wailed. "I have to go find him." I struggled again.

"No. Don't do that to yourself." She was holding my head against her chest as I sobbed.

"Uh oh, I was afraid of that," Bill was standing over us. "I better give him a ride. This is no place for him to be walking." He started out the door.

"He's find out there," I said through my tears.

We packed up and left. I waited in mom's car for a few minutes while she gathered things.

"I knew I sensed a fight. What happened?" she asked.

"It wasn't a fight!" I was defensive. I didn't know how to tell her that I wasn't able to make it right. I hadn't done or said the things he needed. I didn't know how to.

I'd feared a lot of things going wrong that day, but getting dumped wasn't one of them.

"I just don't understand, things were fine this morning. Did he get jealous about something?"

I watched out the window as we drove. Everything was fuzzy through my tears. In my mind I replayed our first kiss. Our first everything. My heart stopped beating, I couldn't breathe. There was no way I could live without him. It hurt worse than getting jumped. By far. I'd have given anything to be on the ground getting kicked.

"I know it's hurting now, Chanel bell." She was trying to help but it was useless.

Later that night, Bill confirmed that he hadn't found him. I wasn't worried, he could handle himself out there, that much I knew.

I didn't have a single bite of dinner. I lay on my floor, his shirt in my hands. It was losing the smell. I was losing him. It propelled to an even darker place. What would I do when the memories faded? It was like losing him again.

I kept looking out the window. Maybe he'd show up. Then, I could tell him I was sorry. I could figure out the right thing to say. I fell asleep face down on the floor. I swear, it hurt even while I slept.