Unbroken

When the final bell rang, I grabbed all of my belongings and exited the classroom. I needed to get to my car outside in the parking lot so I could go home, but I had to push my way through the sea of students with much difficulty. I was almost at the door when someone ran into me and made me drop all of my textbooks to the floor. Of course, I knew who that someone was before I could even hear her nasty reply.

"Watch where you're going, bitch!"

That would be Emily Rogers. She had been at my throat ever since I moved here. She didn't have a reason to hate me before, until the party before Senior year started. That story, however, is a story that will be told later on. Let's just say for now that at the party, she made a big deal out of nothing, started drama, and shit hit the fan.

I sighed and crouched down to pick up my things, but then I saw a pair of hands beat me to it. I looked up to see who it was, and my eyes widened with surprise. His eyes were covered by dark sunglasses and there was a small grin on his lips. He was so tall that he made me feel like a dwarf, even when I stood up straighter.

It was James Sullivan.

I've never been so close to him before. I could feel the blood drain from my face. It was sort of terrifying, but if he was going to be my partner for this project, I had to get used to it. He handed over the things that Emily made me drop. I hesitantly took them out of his hands and my heart beat a little faster when my hands brushed against his.

"Um...thank you." I managed to say, tucking the textbooks under my right arm. I stared up at his face, trying to figure out what it was about him that was so intimidating again, but I came up with nothing.

"No problem," he shrugged casually.

I turned around, thinking our little conversation was over with, and pushed the door open. I wouldn't be surprised if it was, considering that is the most we've ever said to each other. But once I was outside, I could still feel his presence. I looked to my left and saw him walking beside me.

"What was her problem?" He asked, looking towards the parking lot.

"Who?" I tried act normal around him, like I would if I was talking to one of my friends. I looked toward the parking lot as well and saw Emily sitting on the hood of her car. A couple of girls were standing close to her. "Emily?"

He nodded. "She runs into you and she calls you a bitch. That doesn't make sense to me." He looked at me, his face completely serious.

"She hates me." I answered. "She always has."

"Does she even have a reason to hate you?"

"No," I half-lied. I didn't want to tell him her reason for hating me, mostly because the reason wasn't even justified. Also, I was too afraid to tell him the whole story and I didn't know him all that well to do so.

There was a silence between us. For a moment, I thought he walked away, but once I reached my car, he started speaking again.

"About this project," he started saying. "How are we going to do this? We'll have to meet up somewhere to do it, because you know how Dyal is. She'll give us hardly any time in class to finish it."

I froze at his words. My hand that was reaching for my keys, however, started shaking. Why was I so surprised? If we were going to work on this project together, we had to put effort into it. For us to do so, we needed time together.

Oh, joy.

"Uh..." I managed to say, slowly taking out my keys and gazing up at him. I could see my horrified expression that was horribly masked by curiosity reflecting back at me from his sunglasses. I was so surprised that James didn't catch on to how uncomfortable I was by his presence, but I still tried to ignore it. "I don't know. Where do you think we should meet up?"

I couldn't see the look in James' eyes, but there was a small silence before he spoke again. "I'd prefer to meet up somewhere quiet. My place...isn't that kind of place." He gave me a small smile. "I'm coming up with nothing."

"Well," I said, racking my brain for some answer to give him. I came down to one place, and I really didn't want him there, but it was the only thing I could think of. "I could ask my mom if you can come over so we can do this project."

He stared at me for a moment before his smile went even bigger. "Okay, you can give me your answer tomorrow."

"Hey, Jimmy!" Someone in the distance called. James turned around and I looked over to see who it was. It was Zachary Baker; he was in my science class. "Come here!"

"Gotta go, Andrea." James said to me before walking, or running, away. I was going to correct him, to tell him that everyone calls me Andy, but he was already too far away to hear me.

I unlocked my car door and crawled into the drivers' seat. I looked through the window to see James and Zachary embrace. Then I saw James shove his friend into a bush and tilt his head back in laughter. My eyes stayed on my English classmate. He looked so happy and so full of life when he was around his friends. I sighed softly and put my key in the ignition.

How could I be so afraid of a person like him?

---

I drove into my apartment complex with a clear head. I didn't want to think about the project or James at the moment. I wanted to be in the comfort of my home and relax for a few minutes. I was hoping my mother would be there so I could ask her about James coming over, but as soon as I pulled up into a parking space in front of my apartment, her car wasn't in sight. I should have known she wasn't going to be there on time.

After I exited the vehicle and locked the doors, I climbed the stairs to the second floor to where my apartment was. I unlocked the door and entered the quiet place, closing it behind me. Instantly, I was greeted by my black and white Siberian Husky running toward me and licking my hand. I smiled at her and patted her head.

"Hey, sweetie," I said to her. "Did you miss me?" I crouched down to her level and she replied by licking my cheek. "Want some food, Lexie?"

I stood up and entered the living room. I dropped my book bag on the couch and walked into the kitchen. I filled up Lexie's bowls with dog food and water and placed them on the floor for her. I noticed the red light on the answering machine was blinking, so I pushed the button and waited to hear whoever left us a message.

"Andrea," Mom's voice said through the speaker. "I'm getting held up at the restaurant. It's a very busy day here, so I won't be home until after dinner."

"Of course you won't." I murmured, unsurprised.

"There's a couple twenties on my nightstand. You can order some pizza if you'd like." She paused for a moment and I could hear someone talking to her. "Honey, I have to go. I'll see you tonight. I love you." There was a small click, which meant the message was over.

I erased the message and sighed softly. My mother was the head chef at a huge restaurant downtown, so she was usually really busy. It was Thursday, not usually her busiest days, but apparently, this was an exception. I hardly spent any time with her during the week, but I was just so used to it, it shouldn't even bother me at that point. But it did.

My mother was a strong woman. She gave birth to me when she was my age and I've never even met my father. She pulled through, though. She got her high school diploma the summer after her friends did and she went to college close to home to major in culinary. My grandparents helped take care of me while she was at school during the day.

Nights, she'd come home and take over. I'll never know how she managed to get through college while taking care of a baby, but she did it. After she graduated college, she started taking catering jobs. My mother was an amazing cook and she made everything from scratch. She even created her own recipes that she'd refuse to share with anyone but me.

When I was fourteen, she moved us to Huntington Beach, California; a place that was foreign to both of us. She continued her catering until a restaurant owner offered her a job as head chef. She accepted the offer, of course, and I've never seen her happier. She was living her dream and I was so proud of her. This was what she had always wanted and I admired her for that.

Days like that, however, I sometimes wished she could spend more time with me. Most teenagers would be thrilled to have their house to themselves all the time, but I wasn't one of them. I craved for my mother's attention and praised to feel her presence. I enjoyed her company because I rarely had it. I was graduating soon and might run off to college, so I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could, but I wasn't getting it.

"Lexie," I said to my dog, "I'm going to rest and do my homework, but I'll take you for a walk later, okay?" Lexie just looked at me, chewing her food, and took her attention back to her bowl.

Even though Lexie wasn't my mother, I was just glad I had some company. I took my book bag off the couch and went into my bedroom. I was hoping homework would distract me from everything that was happening, but I wasn't going to hold my breath.