All Broke Down

“Kids like him always have the same story. And it always ends up the same eventually.”

Those words burn something up in me, and now I’m the one battling violence. Words like that, people like my father . . . they’re the reason Silas feels like he doesn’t fit in my world. And honestly, I’m not even sure that’s the kind of world I want to be in.

“Then why adopt me?” I ask. “If you think people are only products of where they came from and they can’t change . . . why bother?”

“Oh sweetheart,” Mom says, reaching across the table for my hand. “You were one of the good ones.”

I pull my hand away and stand up, “Silas is one of the good ones. He’s dealt . . . is dealing with a lot. And if you knew him—”

“I don’t need to know him,” my father says. “You think I haven’t seen hundreds of guys like him go through that university? I’m happy to have them there, for them to get an education in exchange for the money they bring in on the team. But that doesn’t mean I want him anywhere near my daughter.”

I shake my head and purse my lips against the urge to cry. I can’t believe I ever contributed to this, that I ever made Silas feel like any of this was true.

“You do need to know him, Dad. Because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mother says fast. “You and Henry have only been apart a month or two.”

I look at her then, pause, and make sure she sees the seriousness in my face when I say, “Henry and I are never getting back together. I don’t love him. I don’t want to be with him. That’s not going to change. Not ever.”

“You’re overreacting. Henry hurt you, and now you’re lashing out in the best way you know how. I understand that. And this Silas is certainly attractive, so I don’t blame you for getting confused.”

“You think I’m confused?” I can’t help but laugh. “For the first time maybe ever, I know exactly how I feel and exactly what I think. And you’re not going to tell me I’m confused or wrong, not going to convince me I don’t know who I am. Because I do. I finally do.”

“No one is saying you don’t know who you are.” Dad cuts in. “But perhaps if you’ll sit back and think—”

“I didn’t know who I was,” I tell them. And there’s no stopping my eyes from tearing up now. “Not until Silas. Before that . . . I was whatever you wanted me to be. Or whatever Henry wanted. I was so worried that I’d lose you, that you wouldn’t love me, or you’d regret taking me in, that I was too scared to be anything other than what you considered the perfect daughter. But I’m not perfect. I can’t be. Not even if I was still interested in trying. And Silas . . . he was the only person to see that. To see how hollow I’d let myself become. So I do love him. I’m not confused or misguided. Not anymore.”

Mom stands and comes around the table toward me. She cups my face in her hands and says, “We could never regret taking you in. You’re our daughter. And we love you no matter your imperfections. I’m just worried, darling. It’s not even about his issues. You know what guys on those teams are like. They break hearts left and right, and I don’t want yours to be one of them. I believe that you love him. I do. I’m just not sure it’s smart to get involved with a boy who may not be able to love you back the same way. I don’t want you to fool yourself into thinking it can be something more permanent.”

It stings. Because that’s exactly what I thought. That I would be stupid to picture any future between me and Silas, but these days I’m having trouble picturing one without him. If I’d just gotten over my fears faster, listened a little more to my heart and less to my head, maybe I’d still have him now.

“I’m sorry, Mom. Dad. But you’re wrong. Silas is good for me. And he deserves so much more than what I’ve given him. So, I’m going to go see if I can catch the end of his game. And I don’t know . . . maybe eventually you’ll be able to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Because I finally trust myself.

As I leave the house and climb into my car, I turn the radio station to one playing the game and start my trek across town.

I think about all the things I know about myself, the truths I’ve discovered and am still discovering.

I can be impulsive and hotheaded. I don’t like dressing up or fancy dinners. I want to go to parties. Real, irresponsible parties, not dinner or garden ones or whatever. I want to meet people. All kinds of people. And I want to laugh. I haven’t done that enough in life. I don’t just want to help people. I want to fight for them. I don’t want to be invisible ever again. I want to be bold. I want . . .

Silas. I want Silas so bad that I feel his name whispered in my every breath, can still feel the warmth of his touch like he’s next to me, leaning across the dash to kiss me at the red light. He’s lodged so deep in me that the memory of him is written on my bones, twined in my blood.

Stuck in traffic, I listen as the game winds to a close and Rusk wins by thirteen. I scream along with the fans I can hear in the background of the broadcast, and for the first time in two weeks, I take a full breath of air.

I’m going to see Silas after that game. I have to.

A QUICK CALL to Stella assures me that the team is celebrating their win at a frat party on campus tonight. I run home and pull on my favorite skirt, and I find a button-up shirt that I know drives Silas crazy. Tonight, though, I leave an extra button undone.

When I get to the party, Silas isn’t there yet, but I find Stella in the living room. The celebration is already in full swing, and Stella is perched on a cute frat boy’s lap, laughing. She waves me over when she sees me.

I’m so freaking nervous. What if he won’t give us another chance? What if he’s already moved on to some other girl? Or he’s woken up and realized that he doesn’t want to be in a relationship after all? God, what if his mother is still around? I don’t even know how he’s handling that, if he’s handling that. He could be spiraling out of control again, and I would have been one of the things to push him to it.

“Cute outfit!” Stella shouts over the music. “Try to look like you’re not about to vomit, though. Doesn’t quite scream I’m here to win you back.”