chapter 28: picking up the pieces

She laid there on the pavement, shivering from the cold.

Her head pounded from the pain in her forehead, the blood which had flowed down the side of her face finally slowing down. She found some sort of comfort holding herself while crumpled on the ground, even though her entire body was shivering.

She knew she needed to get up, wipe the blood off her forehead, and find somewhere to go, but she couldn't. It was as if she was no match to gravity, and its force was pulling her down against the ground like a magnet to a fridge. She felt stuck, like if the whole planet were to tip upside down, she would still stay hanging on that pavement road.

Her heart ached in her chest, and she could've sworn her ribcages felt like wooden planks groaning while being stepped on, the walker oblivious to how sensitive the wood underneath their feet were. Even the rabbit in her chest made no sound; he simply sat there in the suddenly dark cavity, wondering what had happened to make the lights go out.

She felt so stupid. She felt like a desperate idiot with no sense of wrong or right and no sense of how to just say "no." Strangely enough, though, her mind never went back to all their bad moments in the beginning and their bad moment at the end. The only thing showing in the slideshow in her brain was all the good moments in the middle.

She thought about the day when Willow and she were arguing over what to watch on TV and they ended up on top of each other on the couch with neither of them scrambling away. The closeness felt natural; it felt like it was something that neither of them had known was missing in their lives. She remembered when Willow had walked in on her changing, how her usually cool cheeks turned red for the first time. She remembered at that party that night when the jealousy written across the woman's face was too clear for her to refute. She was possessive of the girl. Her eyes screamed "mine" while her mouth screamed at the man who was being inappropriate towards what was hers. He had crossed a line that August didn't even know had been drawn, and maybe Willow didn't either. But she also remembered their first kiss that night. It felt so right, so amazing, so soft. She remembered the woman pinning her down and sticking her body to hers like they were magnets whose paths crossed on that fridge. She remembered the Christmas dance, how she held onto Willow's arm the whole time and the woman never asked her to let go; she only held onto her just as much, bringing her around to meet people like she was so excited for them to see the girl that she smiled at as if she was the most amazing invention in the whole world. She remembered their Christmas Eve, the feeling of Willow being intimate with her. She didn't want to call it sex—she wanted to call it making love. She didn't comprehend how it could have been anything other than that, with the way Willow gripped her so close as she penetrated her and officially marked her as hers. When the woman came and then collapsed onto her body, she told her she loved her, and August said it back because she meant it. She loved her.

She trailed her hand up to her hot neck where she felt the necklace hanging on her chest. More tears fled from her eyes. She loved her so much. There was no way that Willow couldn't have loved her back.

But then she remembered the time at the cave that seemed so long ago. That's when she had begun to look at Willow in a different light, as someone she didn't need to be afraid of. Little did she know that the woman had been holding a gun behind her head, both literally and figuratively.

She felt betrayed. She felt broken. She felt so, so stupid.

♠

Pulling her keys out of her pocket, she inserted the key into the doorknob and twisted left, hearing the door unlock. Pulling the key back out, she turned the cold knob and opened the door.

The familiar smell of Peyton's shampoo and her own French vanilla perfume invaded her nostrils as she walked into her dorm. Carrying her heavy bags, she waddled to her bed and set them down on the edge of it. Leaning her body over her bags, she took a big sigh and rested her face against the denim fabric of her duffle bag. When she inhaled, she could faintly smell the scent of the hotel in Utah still lingering on the material. Feeling a sickness rise to her stomach, she sharply stood up and walked away into the bathroom.

She nearly cried out as she approached the mirror, her reflection unrecognizable and startling. The redness of her puffy eyes complemented the purple bags underneath them, her splotchy red cheeks hot to the touch. She felt as if she had a fever, and she probably did from being the in the cold so long earlier that day, but she didn't care enough to take care of herself or even check her temperature. The band-aid in the corner of her forehead near her hairline covered the small wound she had acquired that fateful day. It was only a scrape, but she still winced as she ran her fingers over it.

After having laid on the pavement road and hoped that passing cars didn't think she was dead and stop by beside her to check on her lifeless body for a good half an hour, she had gotten up and rummaged through her bags for her phone so she could call an Uber to take her to the airport. She had to wait another 20 minutes for the Uber to arrive, and during that time she had seen snowflakes fall from the sky. It was only her luck, she had thought to herself as she stood holding herself and shivering, that it would snow in Texas while she was without shelter. Her luck had proved worse and worse throughout that entire day.

She had hopped on a plane and finally made it to Ithaca, where she dragged herself into another Uber and somehow made it back to her dorm without passing out from exhaustion or pure lack of motivation to move. At least now she felt somewhat safe and at home in her small dorm room, even if she was alone. If she was to be honest with herself, she didn't know if it was some alone time she needed to clear her conscience of everything that happened, or if she yearned so bad to see Peyton's blonde hair laying on the pillow of the bed across from hers. It didn't really matter, though, because she would be alone until after New Year's when Peyton and Emilia would come back.

She had missed her friends but didn't have much time to think about them in the past days. She was too wrapped up in either trying to survive or living a stupid fantasy that made her believe her abductor loved her. She really had developed Stockholm's Syndrome.

She nearly cringed at the thought of it and how stupid she kept telling herself she was, but something stirred in her heart as she remembered the woman's smile. She thought about her lips on her neck, her lips wandering her body, her lips moving against hers. She remembered the woman's fondness for cherry Cola, a brand name she had begun to grow sick of as the woman had popped one open nearly every hour.

Her hands reached up to feel the necklace still hanging on her chest. She had forgotten it was still there. Feeling the heart-shaped locket, she squeezed her eyes shut as she felt tears begin to build behind her eyelids. She remembered Willow's black hair, her slender hands, the concern in her eyes when August had fell to the pavement road and busted her head. She remembered her voice, usually low and husky, tell her in a softer, nearly pleading voice, "I love you." She remembered the feeling of sleeping wrapped up in the woman's protective arms. It was a feeling she was sure that nothing her life could ever again imitate. There was nothing in the universe that could give her the comfort she felt from Willow's gentle touch. That had been all she ever wanted in life, especially after her mother passed. She needed comfort. She hated to admit it, but she felt like a baby—a baby who felt unsafe and scared and lost. But when she met Willow and eventually broke through the cold woman's barriers to find her mushy center, she attained the woman's protection and her prized comfort. She earned the arms wrapped around her at night and her soft breath fanning against the back of her head to assure her that she was still there and would never let go. She found the comfort she had been searching for her whole life.

Now it was ripped away.

Had she been too harsh? Maybe Willow was telling the truth. Maybe she did have bad intentions in the beginning, but how could August hold that against her? How could she not understand the position Willow was in? It was so selfish of her to think she could just come into Willow's life and hold more importance than her gang that was obviously her family.

August opened her eyes, letting silent tears fall down her cheeks as she felt fluid also fall from her nose. Sniffling, she thought about how much Willow had changed over the course of their journey. She thought about her violence and seemingly pent-up aggression towards the girl in the beginning. The woman was quick to pull a knife or to lay a hand on her, but after August saw the first hints of guilt in the woman's eyes, she never did those things to the girl again. She became so much softer, so much more vulnerable. She truly did let down her seemingly impenetrable walls to the girl who only made her put them back up.

August felt so stupid, but for a different reason this time. She had overreacted—big time.

So she kept the necklace on her neck instead of yanking it off and throwing it in the trash like she planned to. She sunk down into her bed and tried her best to drift to sleep, but her mind was consumed with thoughts about Willow and how she could ever right her wrongs. Her hand clenched the heart locket the entire night, as her heart was being clenched by her love for that woman who she had lost.

♠

"Keep the change, you filthy animal."

August slowly retracted her hand and placed the change into the register, keeping a cautious eye the man and a blank expression written across her face.

"I-It's from that movie," the guy that was probably her age added with a nervous chuckle to the end of his statement. He pushed his square glasses up on his face and smiled through his scruffy beard.

Taking a silent breath inward, August remembered that she had to keep a customer-friendly smile on at all times, so she unwillingly flashed her pearly whites at the guy who she hoped to God wouldn't think she was flirting with him because she was only forced to smile. "Yes sir, I believe the movie is Home Alone."

The guy gave her a smile of relief. "Ah, yes! Home alone. That's my favorite."

"Mhm," August cheerily hummed as she left the register to pour his coffee and add the sugars and creamers he requested. Bringing his cup to him, she tightly smiled at him while he took his cup and nodded his head to her, thanking her before scuffling out of the coffee shop probably to get away from the awkward situation.

August sighed, lifting her hat off her short curls to run a hand through her hair. She was thinking that maybe she should've been spending her free time finishing reading The Goldfinch instead of working at the small coffee shop down the road from her university. She didn't know how she would balance both work and school whenever the semester started in a couple weeks, but she gave it upon herself to figure that out when the time came. All she knew was that being alone all the time was not healthy, even if it meant having to force smiles to awkward strangers.

"So anyways, I fucking told him I didn't want it in that hole," she heard Jenny say to a fellow employee as she walked into the back part of the coffee shop, Jenny's blonde ponytail shaking as she spoke with enthusiasm.

August bit her lower lip to refrain from laughing at the incredibly awkward part of the conversation she walked in on. With intent to mind her own business, she grabbed the broom and dustpan from the corner before leaving the vulgarly escalating conversation between her two female co-workers, going back out to the front to sweep around the tables where muffin papers and little black straws littered the space.

Pushing her brown curls behind her ear and readjusting her black company cap, the small girl started at the door and made her way towards the back corner of the shop, where most of the tables were empty except for a hooded figure sitting at the very far back, holding a cup of coffee in his hands. The second August glanced at him, she locked eyes with his own dark ones. She expected him to be a creep who would nervously glance away as he was caught staring, but his glare stayed hard and zoned-in on her. She gulped and decided to be the one to look away first, feeling the rabbit in her chest warningly thump against her ribcage as she tried to focus on sweeping the straws and straw wrappers into the dustpan.

She wanted to run back to the counter where her co-workers were instead of being in the corner and out of sight from any employees or customers, but the floor needed sweeping severely and the manager was on his way back from his lunch break. She knew she needed to have everything spick and span or else she would get written up.

Taking a quiet breath in, she neared the man whose eyes she could feel burning into her skull. She tried to avoid eye contact as she was now right beside his table, sweeping up the crumps next to his feet.

She nearly jumped as she heard the deep timbre of his voice, "I believe this is for you, darling."

August froze, looking up to see him holding out a small, white envelope that was entirely blank. She threaded her eyebrows together, her knuckles turning white around the gripped handle of the broom. "M-Me?" she mumbled, her voice small exuding fear. She stared at his patchy beard that trailed down to his unshaved neck, but through the prickly-looking hair she saw a small tattoo right under his jaw. It felt as if her heart froze over when she recognized the tattoo as a small, black spade.

He nodded slowly, keeping the paper held out to her. "If I were you, I would take it..." A crooked grin threatened his lips, but his face again grew serious and threatening.

Her breath shaky between her parted lips, August reached out and only let her fingers touch the very tip of the envelope, slowly taking it from him and backing away after it was safely in her hands. She held it close to her, eyeing the man nervously. She wasn't sure how well her reputation sat with the Blue Porcelain gang, or if they were all collectively mad at her because of what happened between her and the woman whose name she had avoided speaking the past six days.

He stared at her for a few moments more before he stood to his feet, August instinctively holding her breath and freezing in her place as he walked past her and right out of the shop. She let out a breath as soon as he was gone, looking at the envelope in her hands.

The only thing on it was a black spade sticker that held it closed. Glancing at the clock on the wall and then glancing around to make sure no employees were watching, she figured she had a few minutes before her manager would arrive. So she leaned the broom and dustpan against the wall, hurrying into the adjacent family bathroom and closing and locking the door behind her.

Her back pressed against the closed door, the knot of her black apron uncomfortably dug into her back, but she ignored it as her trembling fingers tore the black spade open and lifted the envelope's seal. Her mouth was dry and her heart racing as she thought about what could be in the contents of the envelope. It was New Year's Eve that day, and it had been Christmas since the last time she saw the woman as she sped away from that pavement road in Texas on which she laid. Her feelings about what she had discovered had greatly changed, and she had come to realize over the past few days how much she had overreacted. She realized that she had acted selfishly and put Willow in a position she had no control over. The woman had a right to do what was best for her gang, but she had shown the girl extreme mercy and grace that went unthanked. August had taken for granted how lucky she was that Willow not only spared her life but filled it with an enlightening love that may have been short-lived but was nonetheless the most fulfilling thing the girl had ever experienced.

And she ruined it all for herself. She knew now that what Willow felt for her had probably been crushed, and they were probably back at square one of Willow being a ruthless and cold gang leader and August the rat in the cage, cowering under the angry cat's shadow and only hoping it wouldn't pounce at any moment.

She lifted the small slip of paper out of the envelope, slightly disappointed that there was hardly any writing on the paper but also relieved as she didn't pick up any words of hate or death.

I am throwing a New Year's Eve party for me and my gang tonight. You have the freedom to say no, but I want you to be there. We need to talk. It's at 9:30 P.M.

Below the woman's wide, curly writing was an address scrawled out. August chewed her lower lip, feeling some sense of hope in the fact that although the woman seemed distant in her words, she did not emit anger or hatred. She stayed respectful, as if she felt guilty for what happened and wanted to work things out while still giving the girl any space she needed.

August couldn't decide if all the space she'd given her over the past six days was a good or bad thing. She hadn't heard one word from Willow, and it gave her time to order everything out in her head and come to a conclusion about what had happened between them. August knew it was all her fault, yet here the woman was actually reaching out to her despite the fact that she had every right in the world to be angry.

August was nothing compared to Willow, she thought to herself as she reread the words over and over again. Willow was this monumental, intimidating gang leader who was apparently infamous across the whole country—one who got whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it, and never got told "no" as an answer. She could have anyone and anything in the world if she wanted it.

But she wanted August, for some goddamn reason that the girl couldn't figure out in her head.