Pull

Oh, crap. Now I was going to start crying, and I hated crying. Hated feeling any sort of weakness.

“What does broken feel like, Alyssa?”

“What does it feel like?” I laughed bitterly and clenched my hands together. “It feels like hell. It feels like I’ll never be normal again. Every night I relive the accident, and every morning it’s the same. It takes every ounce of energy I have to keep myself from crying when I brush my teeth. I can’t even bring myself to listen to music because it reminds me of him. I can’t get into trucks. And whenever I even hear a football game, I nearly have a breakdown.

So yeah, I would say that’s broken. When you can’t even function in a normal world. When you can’t breathe without your chest hurting.”

It was silent in the room except for my ragged breathing.

Mrs. Murray wrote a few things down then looked at me.

“Wow, Alyssa. I’m proud of you for being brave enough to share that. You realize we’ve never talked about your other fears before?

Only the anxiety about long car rides. I truly think you are making progress.”

“Right,” I mumbled, feeling suddenly drained.

“And…” She wrote a few more notes down. “Since you were late, our session is going to have to be cut short. I have another client expected in a few minutes. But Alyssa, I really want you to think about this grief group. The first meeting is a week from Saturday.” She pulled out a small yellow flyer. The fact that it had smiling people on the front did nothing to ease my misgiving that this was a bad idea. The meeting place was TBD.

I lacked the strength to argue at that point, so I swiped it and stuffed it into my messenger bag before saying thanks and stepping out of her office.

Needing escape, I stumbled toward the door and jerked it open.

And walked straight into a wall of muscle.

“Whoa there.” Strong arms came up to steady me.

I recognized that voice. Slowly, I raised my eyes and met Demetri’s horrified gaze.

I jerked away. “Are you stalking me?”

“Are you the famous one?” he stated. Quite snidely, I might add.

“Clearly not, considering I actually have humility.”

He smirked. “Little girl’s got a big bite.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to sidestep him, but he grabbed my shoulders again. “So, I guess that begs the question. Are you stalking me?”

Rolling my eyes, I clenched my teeth and jerked away from his touch. “Yes, rock star. I love you. I want to have your babies. I draw hearts around your name, and tonight, when I get home, I’m hoping to create a love spell that will make you fall in love with me.”

He smirked and his dimples framed his all-too-perfect face. I couldn’t pull my eyes away, even though my mind screamed for me to do so.

“I think you’re bad for my ego.”

“Someone has to be.”

“Touché.” His eyes flickered to my lips and then back to my face.

“Can I go now?” I pushed past him. He finally released me, but the sensation of his touch remained.

“What’s your name?” he yelled after me.

“None of your business,” I said without turning around. The car roared to life, and I was off. Though I’ll admit I did glance in the rearview mirror… maybe once or twice. Any living, breathing girl would. He was a god among boys, but he knew it. And his reckless type of lifestyle would be like my poison and my drug.

Staying away from him was necessary. I needed to protect myself at all costs.

Chapter Four

Demetri

Damn, that girl was hard to read and hostile to boot. One minute I thought we were flirting, the next she looked like she’d rather cut off my balls than say another word to me.

I never claimed to be the smartest guy when it came to the opposite sex, but she seemed like she was in to me, and then like flipping a switch, she turned indifferent.

I shrugged it off and went into Mrs. Murray’s office. It was a familiar place for me over the past year, especially since she had single-handedly been responsible for giving me the ability to move through my twelve-step program without jumping head-first into the ocean.

“Demetri, you’re early.” Mrs. Murray said sarcastically.

Okay, fine. So I was rarely early to anything. Crap, I bet I was late to my own birth. But in my defense, the whole job thing had me running on a different schedule. I started getting up at seven, eating lunch at noon like most people in this world, and going to bed at a decent hour in order to keep myself from falling asleep once I had to start work. Clearly it was a good idea, considering all the drama that took place at the taffy shop today.

I had only been at my new schedule for a few days, and already I was feeling a bit suicidal, like any minute the boredom would finally get to me, and I’d wake up to find myself actually crazy. You know, the type of crazy where drool flows out of a guy’s mouth and he think cats talk to him.

“Have a seat.” Mrs. Murray pointed to the usual couch. I laughed and sat on the floor as was my custom. Something about sitting on the couch made me uncomfortable. I mean, I’m sure it was a comfortable couch — it was leather after all, but it made the whole situation seem too real.

If I sat on the couch, it meant I was actually in therapy.

If I sat on the floor, I could convince myself I was just at Nat’s house hanging out. Most the time I would go into the kitchen halfway through our session, grab some popcorn and soda, then return and spill my guts.