Tattooed Hearts

Broken Relationships & Time Apart

Eventually, I sit back up, rubbing my eyes, feeling the same way I did when I was ten years old seeing my father act up. "I don't know what's going to happen."

It's the truth. I could go back home and maybe we could talk things out. Or maybe she'll want nothing to do with me. Or maybe I won't even see her again, she'll disappear into the shadows. But I just want to see her.

"We're leaving tomorrow. So when we get back, find her. Talk to her. This is just a bump in the road." My mom suggests.

"I don't know, mom. I messed up badly. What if it isn't just a bump in the road? What if she's gone for good?" I ask, hoping I am just being paranoid.

"Then you'll know it's time to let her go." She says.

But that's the thing.

I can't just let go of Grace Baker. I can't just forget about her, go about my life as if everything is fine when she isn't there to tease me or adventure with me or kiss me. I need her like I need oxygen.

I have to talk to her.

❁ ❁ ❁

Grace wasn't there the Monday following spring break. She skipped the day entirely, calling in sick. I knew that wasn't true, I knew her too well. She wouldn't miss school for the world. She loves learning new things.

When I come home from school, I can safely say I didn't say a word all day. Luke and his buddies tried hard to get me to say something. Luke even confronted me after class, but I just wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.

I shut the front door of our house, taking off my jacket and setting my bag down, no motivation to do homework.

I sit down at my desk in my room, pulling out my phone.

Isaac: Can we talk?

No answer for fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty minutes.

Isaac: Please, Grace. Please don't shut me out.

I wait even longer. Nothing. I set my phone down and hear a knock at my door. Before I can tell them to go away, the door creaks open.

"I don't want to talk, mom." I say.

"Not mom. Just your favorite little sister." Mia's voice chirps.

I spin around as she walks in, holding a bowl in her hands as she sits on my bed. "Whatcha got?" I ask.

She grins. "Cookies," She opens the tuboware up. "They always make me feel better when I am sad."

I don't even try to suppress a smile. "Thank you." I say as she hands me one.

She nods, tapping her fingers against the lid as we sit in silence for a few minutes. I can feel her little eyes on me the entire time I eat, her way of guilting me into telling her something.

I raise my head. "Yes?"

"Tell me what's wrong." She addresses. "Talking is good for you."

"Sometimes it isn't."

"What happened to Grace?" She blurts out. I shake my head. "Isn't she what this is all about?"