Broken Glass Page 22

  “A final evaluation?” I questioned. “I don’t understand. I thought it was for sure that I was leaving.”

  “Well, so did I,” Julianne replied. “However, it’s been decided that you’ll have to pass this evaluation successfully to leave.” She was still smiling, but I wondered if she was happy about this required evaluation. I had the feeling she wanted me out of Craneville as soon as possible.

  “Okay,” I just nodded. Her smile widened and she looked at Henry and Shakespeare again.

  “All right, well I’ll see all of you tomorrow,” she said, pleasantly. “Enjoy the rest of your day.” And she was gone. I turned back around, shaking my head.

  “Was that weird?” Shakespeare frowned. Henry nodded with a chuckle.

  “Very weird,” he agreed and I just rolled my eyes.

  I didn’t sleep that night. I lay in my bed, waiting. I longed for Conner to sneak in my room, so that I could see him one last time before I left so that he wouldn’t think that I had abandoned him.

  The next morning, I walked reluctantly to Julianne’s office. What would I be asked? Would my answers be good enough? Did I want them to be good enough?

  Her door was already open and Julianne was sitting at her desk, shuffling through a stack of papers. I cleared my throat loudly as I walked into the office and Julianne looked up, flashing me another one of her fake smiles.

  “Have a seat, Ava,” she nodded towards the chair in front of her desk. “And close the door behind you, please.” I did as she asked and then sat down. She shuffled through the papers on her desk for another minute, before finally looking at me.

  “All right,” she said, resting her forearms on the desk and examining me closely. “There’s no need to be nervous, Ava. I’m just going to ask you a few important questions. I think you’ll do just fine.”

  I didn’t say anything. I began looking around the room nervously, searching for some kind of calming distraction. My eyes landed on a family picture on the bookshelf in the far corner of the office. Conner’s face. I wanted to see him again. I wanted him here.

  “Ava.”

  I looked at Julianne again and her smile was gone. Finally, she was being genuine with me.

  “Yes?” I whispered.

  “Are you ready?” she asked. I nodded. She looked at me for another moment.

  “Why do you want to live?”

  There it was. Straight to the point.

  “I am broken glass,” I managed to say, after a long moment’s thought. “I am broken glass that everyone from my life outside this place, including you, has walked around since…well, since I lost Tyson.”

  I couldn’t believe it. I’d said his name. And with such conviction, such ease. I’d thought I’d never be able to do that again.

  “I’ll always be broken,” I went on. “Because when I came here, no one fixed me. It’s not that they didn’t care to fix me. These crazy, wonderful people I met at Craneville didn’t fix me because they didn’t think I needed to be fixed. And it wasn’t because they were ‘crazy’…it was because they were the only people who knew that I could only face the world out there again as someone different. As someone who wasn’t perfect, who wasn’t normal, who didn’t have all the answers…someone who was somehow ‘fixed’ by being broken.

  “I attempted to kill myself three times, Julianne. No, wait, I mean…the ‘normal’ Ava who wanted to glue herself back together immediately attempted to kill herself three times. But me, Ava Darton…me, who flew over the cuckoo’s nest …I don’t want to die. I want to live. I want to live so that I can step outside these doors again and see the world—the beautiful world—for the first time. And I want to show all these amazing people in this place; Henry, Shakespeare, Channing, and even Aurelia, that the world needs us to be as flawed as we are. Everyone here needs to know that to get better. To know that they don’t need to be fixed.”

  Julianne was looking at me with this incredibly surprised expression on her face.

  “I’ll never be completely healed from this,” I said, quietly. “B-but I have something now that I didn’t before, and that’s hope. Just…hope.”

  For a split second, I saw the old Julianne in her eyes; kind, concerned, determined. But it was gone as soon as it had come.

  “Okay,” she wrote some things down on a piece of paper in front of her. “That is all, Ava.”

  “Wh-what?” I stuttered, surprised. “No more questions?”

  “No more questions,” she did not look up at me. “I’ll see you at the group therapy session a little later, all right?”

  I didn’t know what to do. Clearly, I was being dismissed, but why? Was my answer not good enough? Did she think I would have to stay here after all, ruining her plan to get me away from Conner? I didn’t understand.

  I got up slowly from my chair and walked over to the door, glancing back at her. She was still writing, totally oblivious to me now. I wanted to say something to her. To ask her why she was so angry, to tell her how much she had done for me. But I didn’t say anything. I walked out of her office without a word.

  24.

  When I woke up on Friday morning, I was incredibly surprised to see my mother in my room.

  I sat up in my bed slowly, blinking fast so everything would come into focus. My mom was putting things into boxes.

  “Mom?”

  She stopped what she was doing and looked over at me.

  “Hey, sunshine!” she said, brightly, smiling.

  “What are you doing?” I asked her, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

  “Packing up your things,” she said. “You’re leaving today, remember! Julianne said your evaluation went wonderfully!”

  I just looked at her, not saying anything. I stood there, confused and wondering if I was still asleep. Julianne hadn’t said a word to me about leaving over the past two days, so I’d just assumed I’d done horribly in my evaluation and I’d be staying. Even Henry and Shakespeare had agreed with me on this conclusion. Mom stopped what she was doing and walked over to me, resting her hands on my shoulders.

  “Honey, you’re well enough now to come home,” she said, softly. “Don’t you understand? You’re finally better. You’re finally better.”

  I raised my left eyebrow and didn’t reply. Instead, I walked past her and out of the room. I went straight to Julianne’s office. I knocked loudly. She didn’t answer. I tried the knob. It was locked.

  “She took sick leave, baby,” Nurse Josephine said from the nurse’s station behind me.

  “Is she sick?” I asked, turning around.

  “No, her husband is,” Josephine replied. “She won’t be back for a week, she said. When you have all your things ready, baby, just lemme know and I‘ll sign ya out.”

  “Oh,” was all I said. I went back to my room to help my mother finish packing up my things. As I was changing out of my pajamas into some cheerleading shorts and a t-shirt, my mom stopped what she was doing and stared at me.

  “What?” I asked her, pulling my shirt over my head.

  “Looks like we’re going to be eating greasy McDonald’s for a while,” she said, smiling slightly. “I’ve never seen you so tiny, child. What do they feed you in this place?”

  I just chuckled and went to my bed, pulling my Tyson box, along with Conner’s art supplies out from under it.

  “Where did you get that stuff, Ava?” Mom asked me, nodding at the art stuff in my hand. I looked at it for a second, fondly.

  “Just a friend here,” I answered, simply.

  “Oh, how nice,” she commented, looking around. “Well, I think that about does it. I’ll go get the car and pull it around front.”

  “Okay,” I nodded. “I’ll, um, tell Josephine to sign us out.” I watched her as she walked out of the room, and let out a heavy sigh. There was a sudden lump that formed in my throat and it took all the strength I had to swallow it.

  I had some goodbyes to make.

  I went to Henry’s door and
gently wrapped on it. He opened it almost immediately.

  “You’re leaving,” he guessed. I nodded.

  “Yeah, Mom’s getting the car now,” I told him. “Julianne didn’t tell me…”

  “I’m sorry, Ava,” he murmured and put his arms around me, pulling me in for a tight embrace. The lump was back in my throat and this time, I couldn’t swallow it. Tears began to stream down my cheeks.

  “Will we never see each other again?” I whispered in his ear.

  “Maybe not in this lifetime,” he replied, pulling me tighter to him. “I’m glad you’re going home, though, Ava. I’m so glad you get a second chance.” I pulled away slightly, looking up at him.

  “I don’t know how to say goodbye,” I said, my lips trembling uncontrollably now. “I-I wished so hard after Tyson died that I’d been able t-to say goodbye to him, but now I don’t know if I could’ve.”

  “Don’t say it, then,” Henry smiled. “It’s not goodbye. You can always write. You can always come by and see us…or even if you don’t, you’ll always have your memories. It’ll be just like we’re still around.”

  I began to cry very hard when he said this, and that’s when I felt hands on my shoulders. I turned around and there stood Shakespeare, puffy eyes, red face. He didn’t know how to say goodbye, either.

  “Shake,” was all I could think to say, and I threw my arms around his neck. His back was shaking up and down, and in a second, we were both sobbing in each other’s arms.

  “Oh, would you two stop it!” Henry laughed. Shakespeare and I turned to face him, surprised at his lack of empathy.

  “Ava’s not dead, she’s just going home!” he was still laughing. It wasn’t really that funny, but for some reason, Shakespeare and I began to laugh, too.

  “Tell Channing I’ve gone home, will you?” I asked Henry, when our laughter and tears had somewhat subsided. “You can get my address from Josephine.”

  “I will,” he promised. “Now you go on. Your mother’s probably waiting. It’s time for you to spread those wings of yours, Ava Darton. Stay crazy out there in that world full of normal people, won’t you?”

  I smiled and gave him another hug.

  “Swear I will never go sane again,” I replied. I turned to Shakespeare, but before I could even extend my arms for another hug from him, he grabbed my face in his hands and pulled my lips to his.

  It wasn’t like any kiss with Conner or Tyson, but there was some sort of love there. This was the only way Shakespeare knew how to say goodbye, so I let him.

  As my mother and I pulled away from Craneville, I found myself looking back at it, trying to figure out if any of it had been real. And as we rode along with the quiet droning of the radio in the background, the world around me moved in slow motion. I’d missed so much while being locked away. Suddenly, the slow world became fast in front of my eyes. The trees were taller and the sun was higher than I’d remembered. The houses were worn, older, weathering away. There were more cracks in the sidewalks, new paint on the neighbor’s fence...there was a For Sale sign in the front yard of Jake Robert’s old house across the street from our own house. It was a startling realization that the world had gone on turning without me…and without my Tyson.

  I swallowed a lump that had unrepentantly formed in my throat as we pulled into our driveway. Mom stopped the car, turned off the ignition, and looked over at me.

  “How ya doing?” she asked. I gave her a small smile.

  “I’m alive, right?” was my reply. “Let’s go in.”

  That was the night I began to see his ghost.

  It wasn’t a scary thing to me. I’d seen Tyson in my dreams too many times to count, knowing that literally he wasn’t there. But as I lay in my own bed for the first time that night, I knew it was real this time.

  I slept with a lamp on that night, surprisingly uncomfortable in my own bed. I’d gotten so used to the squeaky mattress from Craneville that it had become somewhat of my sanctuary place. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, I somehow managed to doze off for a while, and for once, no one was in my dreams.

  I was awakened that night at 1:13 a.m. by an intense bright light that was not coming from my bedside lamp. I sat up in my bed slowly, staring at him, trying to make him fade so that I could go back to sleep.

  But there was something fantastical about him. Something so unearthly that I could not touch. His name escaped my lips in a whisper, and his only reply was silence. He was in the blue jeans he’d always worn, with the holes in the knees, the dark blue t-shirt that had a white lightning bolt down the front, and his ragged, blue converse shoes. His head was bowed, so that I could only see the top of his shaggy, dark hair. He raised his head, and in that instant, he was gone.

  I got up from my bed, rushing to the spot where he’d been, bursting into tears as I fell to my knees and clawed at the carpet. I couldn’t escape him. I never would, and even though I didn’t exactly want to, what I did have left of him was nothing more than a breath. Intangible and never good enough.

  For the first time since I’d arrived home, I tried to see Conner’s face in my mind. I couldn’t.

  That week was the worst. Tyson began showing up everywhere. Not just in my room in the middle of the night, but also on the street, in the car, in random rooms of the house…it was almost too much to bear.

  The fifth day I was home, I received a visit from an old friend. I was hesitant in answering the door, but when there was a knock, I saw Tyson standing in the foyer, nodding as if to say I should answer.

  Jake Roberts was standing there, looking incredibly uncomfortable and unsure of himself. I gave him a smile of surprise.

  “Jake, hi,” was all I could think to say. “Um, come on in.”

  He did, giving me a nod of his head and a mumbled hello.

  “You look…good,” he said finally. I chuckled and his eyes widened when I did so.

  “No I don’t,” I replied. “I look like hell…but it sure does feel great to be able to put on a pair of jeans for the first time in months.”

  “Right,” he said, and relief passed through his eyes.

  “How’ve you been, Jake?” I asked him. “I must admit, I’m surprised you came here.”

  “About that, Ava,” he said then, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry I…deserted you. I haven’t been a good friend. I guess I just freaked out when you were sent off to stay at that place.”

  “It never looks good to have a crazy friend, does it?” I said, softly. He just looked at me and flushed slightly.

  “I didn’t mean it that way—” he started, but I held up my hand.

  “It’s okay, Jake,” I said. “Really.”

  “Actually, I came by to tell you that I haven’t sold the El Camino,” he said, and his face crinkled slightly. “I-I figured you’d want it back when you…when you got out.”

  “Thanks for holding onto it,” I said graciously.

  “Yeah, um, anytime you want to come by and get it, you can,” he told me.

  “Is today good?” I asked him suddenly. He nodded.

  “Yeah,” he said. “If you, um, wanna ride over to Pete’s with me, we can get it.”

  “Okay, let me get my coat,” I said, leaving the room. When I came back, Jake stared at me.

  “You still have that jacket?” he asked. I looked down at the blue jean jacket I was wearing. Tyson’s old jacket, torn at the elbows, grungy patches on the pockets…it was a mess. But I adored it.

  “Of course,” I replied simply. “Are you ready?” He nodded and we left.

  On the ride over to Pete’s place, we were silent for the first couple of minutes.

  “Where’s your mom?” Jake asked, finally.

  “Work,” I replied. “She just went back to work today. We’ve kind of just been hanging out at the house for the last few days since I’ve gotten back.” He nodded and the conversation lapsed. But then, Jake said something that made my heart momentarily stop beating.

  “I’ve been seei
ng him everywhere lately.”

  I knew who he meant, of course.

  “Me, too,” I said quietly. “Ever since I got back.”

  “Why do you think that is?” he asked. “It’s never happened before. I think I might be going cra—” He stopped abruptly.

  “You’re not going crazy,” I said, firmly. “He’s really here…it sounds ludicrous, Jake, but I honestly believe he’s…well, real.”

  “It’s like his ghost or something,” Jake said, frowning. “It’s not like it freaks me out or anything, but it’s just…strange, you know? Like, I don’t understand why he’s all the sudden showing up everywhere.”

  “Does he ever say anything to you?” I asked him.

  “No,” Jake answered. “You?”

  “No,” I replied. “He’s just…there. It’s like he’s waiting for something, but I don’t know what.”

  I was hesitant to get into the El Camino. The last time I’d been in that car had been when I tried to kill myself. I wasn’t completely sure that I could handle it. But I had to put on a strong front so Jake wouldn’t think I was still nuts.

  I got in and drove away, neither Jake nor I saying another word about Tyson’s ghost. It was a strange thing, driving, after not doing so for such a long time. Like riding a bike, I just remembered how…but I still ended up going 35 mph the entire way home.

  I suddenly felt a presence in the seat beside me as I drove. I glanced over. Tyson was sitting there, staring out the window. My body stiffened and chill bumps rose up on every inch of my skin.

  “It’s in great shape,” came his voice, though distant. “Thanks for taking care of it.”

  “I haven’t been around much to drive it,” I told him. “Sorry, I’ve been…”