Every Little Piece

Out west, I worked for Katie’s dad in exchange for room and board and a small weekly pay, but in a lot of my spare time, I volunteered at the Boys and Girls club. It was my saving grace, a time when I lost myself in the pain those kids carried, gave back, and by the end, we all felt better. My time with them was the high point of my week, like a drug I needed to keep me afloat.

I’m desperate for that. After this week, I might only bump into Haley here and there, but I’ll still need this in my life, no matter what kind of paying job I find. If I stay.

I knock on the office door. I’m dressed in the best clothes I have, which consists of a pair of khakis and a button-up blue shirt. I threw them in my suitcase at the last second, knowing I might eventually go through some kind of interview process.

“Come in.”

I open the door, wiping my sweaty palms on my pants.

“Hi. I’m Mandy.” She stands. Her reddish hair falls to her chin. She’s sharp. Her elbows, her chin, her nose, her shoulders remind me of sharp angles, but her smile makes me breathe easier. “You must be Seth?”

I nod. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She points to a chair, then leans back in her own, her full attention on me. “Tell me about yourself.”

I clear my throat and sit straighter. “For the past year I’ve worked on a ranch out west and volunteered for the Club. I love the work and would like to continue it here.”

She studies me, not saying a word. Her eyes are a hazel, nothing special, but she seems to see right through me to my past. I want to look away but I don’t.

“What’s the real reason, Seth?”

I stare at her, trying to keep my composure. “Excuse me?”

She waves her hand. “Never mind. We’ll get to that later.” She studies my resume and the letter of recommendation I slid across her desk. “Why don’t you spend some time on the court, get to know the boys while I read these papers. Then come back and we’ll talk.”

“Sure.” I eagerly leave the cramped office, cross the empty gym, and head to the basketball courts. This is my safe place. I saunter up to the younger high school boys playing.

“Hey, can I play?” I ask.

A boy with a mass of curly hair gives me the once-over. “You play before?”

“Yep. I’m Seth.”

“I’m Chris. And that’s Joe and Davey. The others aren’t important.” Joe and Davey stand nearby. They dress similar to Chris with their shorts low on their hips and old T-shirts hanging off their bodies.

Joe has black hair and a scowl on his face, and Davey has dirty blond hair that falls over his ears. He wears a frown too. But I get it. I have to earn trust first.

We start playing, and I fall into an easy rhythm. I don’t play too hard and let them steal the ball every once in a while. At the same time, as a stranger I need to earn their respect too. I make my fair number of shots and passes, but I steal the ball from them too. It’s easy for the encouraging words to slip out. It’s easy to connect, and I feel better than I have since I came back.

Thirty minutes later we’re sweaty, my shirt is on the ground, and the kids are breathing a little harder than when I came. The boys have loosened up and are talking about all sorts of things. Not the hurtful stuff, not the scars that I’m sure lay beneath the surface. They’re very excited about the ice cream bar the next day with an afternoon of games and competition.

“Sounds like fun.”

Chris pauses, then says. “You should come.”

“I’ll try.” I wipe the sweat off my forehead. “I’ll ask Mandy, okay?”

They nod and go back to their game. I head inside the club and return to Mandy’s office. My boss out west had called her with glowing recommendations for me, along with sending an email. Working with the kids this past year saved my life. If I stick around here I have to keep it up.

Mandy sits behind her desk, pouring over paperwork but stops when I knock at the door. She motions me inside and points to the same plastic chair across from her desk.

“I can see you needed that as much as them.” She taps a pencil on the papers in front of her.

I flop down in the chair and can’t hold back the grin. “I’ve missed it.”

She hesitates, and drums her fingers against my resume. I know what she wants, the questions she needs to ask. I’m ready. “You know what’s coming, don’t you?”

I nod.

“Alright then. If you want to work with the kids here you have to realize that it’s not about you. Most adults want to work with kids because for some reason they want to give back and this in return helps them too.” She switches to tapping the pencil against her lips, and her eyes pierce mine.

She can see through me and straight to the pain. I can tell when her eyes soften and her head tilts to the side.

“I’m not going to poke around in your life. Yet.” She smiles. “But know that if you work here, I encourage everyone to face their past. This isn’t a place to hide out and escape from the world. Other clubs work differently, but I see some of my employees as big kids who need that extra hug and smile as much as the kids do.”

For the first time I can’t believe I’m going to be honest. But Mandy seems to get pain, and I’m sure she has her own battle scars. “That’s why I’m back in town.”

She purses her lips to the side. “I see.” She pushes the paperwork across the table to me. “Fill these out and return them by the end of the week. And, we have a great day planned tomorrow. If you’d like to come and man the ice cream buffet we could use the help.”

“I’d love to.” I grab the papers and go to leave, but I stop at the door. “Can I bring a friend?”

She flashes me a knowing smile. “Sure. See you tomorrow.”

I leave the Boys and Girl Club with a smile and a little more confidence. For the first time since I’ve returned, I feel better, but it won’t last. I have to convince Haley to come with me tomorrow. She’ll love the kids, and she’ll see that a world waits for her outside of being a waitress.





I’m speechless. A couple days ago Tate told me he needed a break, yet, here he is. My rock. My safe place for the past few months. Maybe that’s why the last couple days have been so hard, and not because Seth came to town. Maybe I’ve missed having someone there for me, who doesn’t press me to talk, who’s my friend. I want to run up and hug him, but I’m still a little pissed.

“Decided I’m worth sticking around for?” I ask casually, but glance at the door, wondering if Noah will look for me back here.

Tate runs his fingers through his hair, leaving him with a major bed-head look. “That’s not how it is and you know it.”

My annoyance factor skyrockets, but it immediately fades into nothing. He likes me. I can see it in the concern in his eyes, but maybe for some reason I’ve been nothing more than a safe place to him too. That’s not fair to either of us. He deserves someone who tingles under his touch, whose heart races in anticipation of his kiss and it leaves her breathless, wanting more in a shivery anticipation. That person isn’t me. Only one boy has ever done that for me.

“I know.” I slug him gently on the arm. “I’m kidding.” And with that confession, my love, a brotherly kind of love, of gratefulness, floods through me for Tate. During this past year he’s picked me up late for bowling dates, forced me out on my lunch break for ice cream and a quick stroll down the boardwalk. He’s put up with my forced cheeriness and the days I couldn’t even muster a smile.

He’s been a good friend.

He spreads out his arms in an effort to show his vulnerability. “I don’t seem to be able to compete with your past.”

“I’m sorry.” This is where I need to end it even though it means I’ll be alone, without a way of escape from the dull and drone of life. “What can I do?”

“Are you willing to try and let go?” He shuffles his feet on the ground, a strong guy like him, nervous.

I tug on his sleeve. The emotion rushes into my throat and my voice wavers. “I’d love to move on with you. I’d love to be that one for you, the one you need, the one who loves you back with everything she’s got.” My throat closes, and I can’t finish, because that boy, that one person who does that for me has told me he’s not here to fight for me.

He nods as if admitting what he already knew. His sad smile though still brings peace to me. “I want to be there for you. This weekend. I’ll take you if you’d like, if you want.”

The emotion dissolves, and the numbness steals over my heart, mind, and soul. “No.”

He pulls me to him. “You need this, Haley.”

The spark of anger flares, and I push against him. Everyone’s telling me what I have to do. I have to go. I have to find closure. I have to stop running. “Why don’t we leave this on a good note?”

He gives me a quick hug and a gentle peck on the cheek. “Fine, but if you need a friend, let me know.” Then he leaves.

I wonder how much he ever really cared about me, because he doesn’t seem to find it too hard to leave. Maybe I’m not the only one who doesn’t feel that spark. I blame Seth. If he hadn’t come back to town and caught Tate and I together, then Tate and I would be fine. I storm back inside, slamming the door behind me, almost knocking over a tray of freshly made sandwiches.

For the first time in a year I wish I had a car, but I haven’t driven since I left with Justine, and I don’t plan on it now. I rip through the kitchen and into the restaurant. Noah has been waiting this whole time, but is just now exiting out the front door. I catch up and hook my arm through his. Might as well deal with him too.

“Let’s go,” I order.

He startles and narrows his eyes, suspicious. I don’t blame him, especially since I’ve been avoiding him for the past year. He lets me lead him outside. I’ve caught him off guard, which is good. I search back and forth on the street parking. “Where’s your car?”

“Why?” he asks, his stubbornness showing.

“Because I need a ride, and I don’t have a car.” I study the hard lines of his jaw and the determined set of his eyes. Crap. I forgot that Noah’s no pushover. “Fine.” I huff. “If you take me where I want to go then I’ll listen to what you have to say. Deal?”

He nods and presses the button to unlock the doors. We were standing right next to his car. “Where we going?”

“I’m not sure yet. Let’s just drive.”

We drive through town a couple times. Before I know what I’m doing, I search the bobbing heads of the people on the boardwalk and the outside tables of the restaurants. Seth hasn’t contacted me since last night. Maybe he’s changed his mind about spending time with me. My heart sinks and pulls my thoughts with it.

Noah fiddles with the radio station, and the car fills with the melody of memories, the beat of the past, drumming through my body. The feeling creeps over me slowly, building. The pressure lies on my shoulders and squeezes my chest. The doors of the car close in around me.

“It would help if I knew where we were going.”

I sigh and try to find distraction in Noah’s interrogation. “Seth’s in town.”

Noah’s fingers tighten on the wheel, and a muscle twitches in his jaw. “I’m surprised the coward dared to show up.” He glances at me. “Has he talked to you about anything?”

“No.” My heart rate increases. I don’t mention this coming weekend, hoping Noah doesn’t know about the invitation in my dresser drawer.

“Good.” He stares back at the road, visibly relieved.

I study him harder. He knows something. About Seth. And the spark flares again. In one big rush, the past catches up to me and I can’t breathe. “Pull over.” I gasp.

“Haley, no. We’re in the middle of traffic.”

“Pull over!” I yell. I’m suffocating and the heaviness in the air and the knowledge of last year at this time hits me like a tidal wave. I claw at the door. “Let me out.”

He veers across two lanes of traffic. A horn blares. I cringe as memories hit, wave after wave. He screeches to a stop but grabs my arm before I can leave.

“Please. We need to talk.”

“No. I can’t,” I whisper. “I’ll walk home. Don’t worry about me.” I scramble outside and sprint down the sidewalk, past the stores, the ice cream shops, the gift stores. I keep running. My feet slap the cracked pavement. I don’t stop. This was a mistake to go with Noah. This is what would happen if I ever went home, if I went this weekend. The memories and secret blame would crash, and I can’t bear everyone staring, judging, knowing it was all my fault.

A stitch cramps my side, and I gasp for breath but the momentary pain feels good. It’s something I can control. Maybe I’ll just keep running and never stop. Like Forrest Gump. Across the state, across the country and then I’ll turn around and do the whole thing again. I’m not really looking where I’m going until I slam into someone. I stumble and fall to my knees.

A gentle hand is on my arm. It’s an older gentleman with a kind smile. He helps me to my feet.

“Are you all right?” His voice is firm but raspy. His face is weathered and a fishing hat hides his eyes. Crumbs are entrenched in his mustache.

“I’m fine.” My voice shakes. “Thanks.”

I stumble away and lean against a wooden bench. My eyes flutter shut and I breathe deeply. What is going on with me? I’ve been in control for almost a year. I’ve avoided my family because they always lecture me about facing the past. What most of them don’t understand is that I don’t want to deal with it, and I shoved that part of my life away in a box in a deep corner of my heart, like I did the memories and pictures in the back of my closet. Even though those memories stay with me every day, every second, under the surface. I’ve moved on the best I can.

Noah watches from his car parked on the other side of the road, so I walk. My feet stumble and feel like wooden blocks, but I move forward, one step and a time, heading home.

I’ll get there, eventually.





I fumble with the lock at my grandfather’s cabin when someone taps my shoulder.

I turn and can’t see anyone or react before a fist lands on my jaw, and I fall against the front door.

“What the hell?” I crouch in a fighting stance, ready to defend myself, when I see Noah. All fight leaves, and slowly, I stand straight. I deserved that. He told me to leave and never come back.

He folds his arms and everything about him is strung tight and full of rage. It ripples in his biceps as he clenches and unclenches his fists, ready to punch me again. It floats in the furious haze that simmers in his eyes. It shows in the color that tinges his cheeks.

I sigh. “What do you want?”

“I gave you a choice last year. Be there for my sister or stay the hell away from her.” His voice is sandpaper. “She’s had a shitty year and doesn’t need you back in her life.”

“I ran away for all the wrong reasons, but I’m back now. She can’t hide out in the restaurant forever.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw as he grinds his teeth. “Don’t you dare tell me about her. I’ve made sure she’s not stuck there all the time.”

I jerk my head. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The truth lies in his eyes. He’s been behind the scenes of Haley’s life, controlling what she does. I think of Tate. Her casual boyfriend who probably is the one to make sure she’s not stuck inside. “Does Haley know?”

“What?” he asks.

“That you’re messing with her?”

He steps closer. “You don’t have the right to question me or even be here. Why don’t you run away again? No one wants you here.”

I sigh in defeat. He’s right. All the confidence and peace from the past couple hours slips away. “I’m going to take care of it. I’m going to tell her the truth and apologize.”

He steps so we’re nose to nose. “You get one chance. I want you out of her life by the end of the week. If you hurt her, I’ll chase you down and kick your ass.”

I nod. “Got it.”

He storms away. My hands shake as I unlock the door and then slip inside. For the first time it hits me hard how much I hurt Haley when I left. Noah’s always been protective, but not like this. From what he says, he’s been pulling strings behind the scenes without her knowing. This confirms what I’ve begun to suspect. It just might be that Haley needs saving, too.

I pull out my phone and send her a text.

Me: hey, you there?

I wait a few minutes before I get a response back.

Haley: yeah

My fingers pause and for the first time in a while I decide to be truthful.

Me: I’m sorry. For everything. For running last year.

A few minutes go by before she responds.

Haley: Why now?

Me: I need to make things right.

Haley: What if I’m not ready?

Me: I don’t blame you.

I hold in a breath. My fingers tremble.

Haley: Did you ever stop and think that I didn’t want you out of my life? You took that decision away from me last year. You never asked. You just left. Why now?

The truth hurts, and I feel the anger behind her words. I get it. Anger is much easier than hurt.

Me: I’ll answer any of your questions, and then I’ll be gone.

Her text comes fast.

Haley: Who said I ever wanted you gone? Don’t you get it? I went through hell but I stayed there when you up and left.

I type in the hardest words, the first step to making this up to her. I tell her she’ll want me gone once she learns the truth, but as soon as I finish the last words, I delete it all. This can’t be done through texting, and I can’t leave her hanging.

Me: Give me next couple days. To make up for my mistakes. We both need to move on. Trust me. This is something we both need.

I press send but she doesn’t respond, so I send one more.

Me: Want to hang out tomorrow afternoon?

I wait more than a few minutes but she never texts back.





After another night filled with tossing and turning, I get up, the sadness and the dread pulling at me. I grasp the knob and slide open the drawer. The envelope is still crammed in the back. I tug it loose and trace my fingers over the typed print on the front. The memorial service is tomorrow. For a brief second, I debate opening it but then cram it back in and slam the drawer shut.

I don my apron and throw my energy into waitressing. I laugh the best I can. I flirt with the patrons, and I joke with Justine.

But it doesn’t matter how many lame jokes I crack or how many times I force my lips into a smile, I can’t forget that when I ran last year, I didn’t really leave my past behind. This whole year it’s been hurtling toward me at full speed like an out-of-control train careening down the tracks.

Katie shows up after lunch with a chipper smile. Her eyes are bright and happy, untainted by the bad things in life. Her every laugh and smile stabs into me, and I need to escape. Thankfully, it’s Justine’s turn to continue training her today. I beg off for the afternoon, and I know exactly where I want to go.

The beach.

I want to soak in the early summer sun, even if it’s still a little chilly. Let the sharp smells and ocean breeze wash away my cares. This past year, the ocean has been my solace. A place where I’m accepted with no questions asked. In my room, I tear off my apron and dig around for sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I’m not a runner, but I like to walk.

I leave through the back entrance and run into Katie, her hands full of two overflowing trash bags filled with stinky garbage.

“Oh, hi,” I say. I help her out, amazed at her smile, even when carrying smelly leftovers.

“Thanks.” She throws the second bag in the dumpster then stands as if wanting to say more, her fingers wrapping around the strings of her apron.

I study her. She knows all about Seth this past year and everything he’s been doing. She might even know why he’s back.

She flashes me a knowing grin. “Go ahead. Ask away. I can see you’re dying to ask about Seth.”

“Um.” I stumble over my words. Was I that obvious? I spent the last year learning to hide all these emotions, and she sees through me with one glance. Maybe there’s more to her than her happy-go-lucky appearance.

She laughs. “Don’t worry. Seth is burning up with questions about you, so I figured you might feel the same way.”

This is my chance, but I don’t know where to start. Will asking these questions let him back into my heart? Remind me of all that I’ve lost? “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.”

Katie shrugs but stops at the back door before going back to work. “Seth never told me anything about last year or why he came to live with us. He’s been a closed book.” Her voice softens. “But something’s been tormenting him, and he came back to deal with it. I have a feeling you’re a big part of that.”

I nod, but I can’t find the words. A lump forms in my throat.

“Please,” Katie asks, her eyes pleading. “Give him a chance.” Then she goes inside.

I head over to the beach and walk furiously along the shoreline. The crash of the waves is a comforting white noise. I fall into an easy rhythm, walking and letting my mind go blank for most of it. But Katie’s words haunt me.

Give him a chance? I battle between breaking down and giving him that chance or closing up and telling him to leave me the hell alone. He wants to purge himself of his guilt and then leave me again. I’m not sure I want to be that for him. I shake it off and keep walking, focusing on the different shades of sand passing between my feet, the shifting colors. Early tourists yap and take pictures. I turn around and then head back. When I’m almost back to my starting point. I stop and stare.

Seth is sitting with his arms on his knees, staring out at the horizon. I walk closer, my steps soft on the sand. He looks lost, and my heart breaks all over again, pulling me in two different directions. I’m invading this private moment and should leave him alone, but I can’t seem to get my feet to move.

The shadow of a nasty bruise streaks across his lower jaw. “What happened?”

My words pull him out of his trance, but he smiles, faintly. “I had a run-in with a fist.”

I don’t ask because I have a feeling I know who it is. “Yeah, sorry about that. I mentioned you to Noah.” I might as well talk to him instead of texting him. I plop down in the sand.

“It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’ll heal,” he says.

Then we sit, side by side, staring out at the skyline and the clouds that seem to kiss the water so far away. So many words inside fight for attention. I want to scream, yell and cry. I want to hit him over and over, so he can feel just a little bit of the pain I’ve felt this past year. Instead, I dig my fingers into the cool sand. I’ve seen the pain in his eyes when he thinks no one’s looking. I’m not alone.

He clears his throat but still waits a few seconds. I focus on the curling waves creeping closer to our feet and the swirl of white foam. Like a milkshake, the froth slowly disappears and then slides back into the sea. It comes and goes.

“You never answered my text,” he says.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Listen, I know it would be easier for me to never have come back. It would be easier to pack right now and leave you be. But I can’t.” His voice grows hoarse. “I just can’t. Regardless of what happens, I’m here, to tell my side of the story.”

“You’ve mentioned that,” I say dryly. My mouth suddenly goes dry. I’m not sure I want to know the truth.

“Let’s start with something easy.” His fingers twist then untwist. “Are you free this afternoon?”

“Depends on what you want to do.”

He digs his feet under the damp sand. “You’ll have to trust me.”

He stands and brushes the sand off his pants. He holds his hand out and flashes me the goofy grin I’ve known my whole life. The smile I fell in love with. My heart squeezes, and I breathe deep to control the flood of emotions. The sun hits the side of his face, revealing the bit of stubble. His lips are a tiny bit chapped. Slowly, my gaze moves to his eyes. They plead with me to say yes.

This moment seems to hang in time, and I have two choices. I can tell Seth to leave me the hell alone, which I think he would honor, or I can take his hand and give him a chance. He doesn’t deserve a day, never mind three, but I’m not stupid. To move past everything and get on with my life I need to hear him out. It might hurt, but then maybe I can let go of him. Forever.

I take his hand. His skin feels soft and warm and images flash through my head. Of all of us hanging out at the pool hall, playing soccer together, fooling around. Jamie, Carter, Brin and Kama. My throat constricts but the tears don’t come. At some point, they all dried up. I haven’t let myself go there in months.

I duck my head but his eyes catch mine, and he immediately pulls me into his arms. I don’t fight or argue. He doesn’t try to get me to talk. He just holds me and for the first time in a year, I feel a little bit normal. But that one memory sparks others and everything I’ve been holding back for the past year floods my brain.

His arms hold me tighter, and I bury my face into the crook of his shoulder. It’s been months. No one has understood. Not Noah. Not Justine. Not Tate. No one has been there to hold me because they’ve walked my road. They want to poke and prod into my deeper feelings and get me to talk about them. But sometimes I don’t want to talk. Sometimes memories are too painful. With the flood of sadness comes the waves of guilt and this is why I can’t move past the memories. This is why I can’t bury the past and say goodbye. This is why I refuse to open that envelope.

He doesn’t let me go. The ocean breeze whips around us and tourists start to set up their spots with chairs, coolers, and umbrellas. Joggers whip past. Old men with their dogs shuffle by. This feels good. His warmth seeps through my sweatshirt and reaches the depths of me, the parts that have been frozen for the past year.

“I’m not ready for this,” I croak out.

He kisses the top of my forehead. “I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing. If you ever need a hug you let me know. No questions asked.”

I pull away. “Sorry about that.”

His hands move to the sides of my face and his eyes search mine. His thumbs stroke my cheeks. “I think you’re ready.”

I tense.

“To have fun.” He smiles. “You’re ready to smile a little bit this afternoon. I promise you’ll feel better.”

I glance toward the Seaside Inn. “I don’t know. I should probably check on Justine and Katie and make sure the restaurant isn’t too crowded.”

He pulls out his phone and sends a text. Seconds later, his phone buzzes. He slides it back into this pocket. “Katie says they’re doing fine. And how can you say no to ice cream?”

“Ice cream?” I tap my chin as if in deep thought. “Well, I guess I can’t say no to that.”





Her smile lights a fire in my chest. I haven’t seen that smile in a year. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes yet, but we have the rest of the day. I lead her back to my car, not letting go of her hand, and she doesn’t pull away. I walk slower as we close in on the boardwalk, because the real world will crash in on us. To feel her soft skin and feel the beginnings of trust pass between us is the best I’ve felt all year. It’s like we’re in a bubble, protected from the past year.

But our feet hit the sandy pavement of the boardwalk, and she pulls her hand away as if suddenly wondering how she let it happen. I’m okay with that. Small steps toward the truth.

Once we’re in the car heading for the other side of town, she speaks. “Where we going?”

“No where you’ve been before. And no where near home.”

I throw that in there because that’s what she really wants to know. I see it in her eyes. Being with me is dangerous. I know too much, and she fears I might accidentally bring her back to the past. Like when I brought her to the pool hall.

“Is it far from here?”

“We’re not going to leave town.” I flip on the blinker and turn right, away from the ocean.

She falls silent, but she’s nervous at the unexpected. She bites her lip and plays with the tear in the fabric of the front seat. She used to love surprises.

“Hey,” I say.

“What?” But she still peers out the window.

“Trust me.”

She still gazes at the passing scenery and doesn’t respond. I say trust me, but I don’t expect her to yet. And in a few days, she never will again. That fact crushes me. A battle rages inside, pushing me to what I have to do, but at the same time, whispering to my heart to keep my secrets. Not say a word.

I don’t dare turn on any of my music because she knows it all and we have memories to almost all of them. I let the silence fill the car and our minds. Minutes later, I pull into the Boys and Girls Club.

“Are you lost?” she asks.

“Nope.” I smile. “You ready for some fun?”

“I guess.”

I see her hesitation, but also the hope in the small smile she gives me. I get out and open the car door for her. She hesitates, like she wants to stay inside, protected from an experience that might open her heart to living again. I grab her hand and help her out. We walk toward the large brick building. The basketball courts outside are busy with action. Kids cheer from the sidelines while others are sweating it up on the court.

“We’re here to watch basketball?”

“Nope.” I squeeze her hand. “You’ll see.”

We enter from the gym side and the stale smell of old sweat makes her nose crinkle. I let go of her hand to give her space, and on the other side, I knock on Mandy’s door.

“Come on in!” she calls.

I lead, and Haley follows me.

“Hi, Mandy. This is my friend, Haley.” I step to the side. “Mandy is the director of the Boys and Girls Club.”

Haley reaches out and shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Out west,” I explain, “besides working for Katie’s dad, I volunteered at the Boys and Girls Club, so I decided to check this one out.”

“Oh.”

Haley can’t seem to find anything else to say but looks at me with new revelation passing across her face. Like she’s just discovering the Seth of today.

I don’t miss Mandy’s brief look of question as she studies the two of us. She must see through my pretense of friendship. Grief and pain is written all over both Haley and I, and someone in Mandy’s position won’t miss that. She won’t miss the almost-severed connection between us.

Mandy is the first to break the tension-filled silence. “Follow me.”

She leads us to the other side of the gym and down a hallway to a large room. The cement walls are painted a faded orange and the industrial carpet is a lime green. The room smells like dirty socks. Two plastic tables are lined up in the back of the room, and in the far left is the door to the kitchen. She points to the cupboards, all labeled with white tape. “All the supplies are in the cupboards, and the freezer’s in the kitchen.” She looks at her watch and back to the door. “You comfortable setting up?”

“Sure. I’ve helped out at a ton of these events.” I glance sideways at Haley who’s staring at me. I can’t help but wink. “And with a partner it should be no problem.”

Mandy gives us the once over. “Okay. You’ve got about thirty minutes before the flood of hungry, sweaty kids hits.”

Haley and I rush to set up.

“Okay, let’s get to work. I’ll hit the kitchen for the ice cream.” I point to the cupboards. “Can you search for plastic bowls, spoons and napkins?”

“Sure thing.” She attacks her assigned job with enthusiasm.

My heart lightens a tiny bit. It takes almost the whole thirty minutes to find everything and set up. We argue a little bit about the flow and the order of ice cream toppings, but we’re setting the last of the gummy bears and crushed cookies into place when the kids enter. The ice cream has softened just enough that I can scoop it easily, but not so much that it’s melting.

A couple of the boys from yesterday approach, and I slap some high fives and exchange smiles. Then I start scooping. It’s endless. The flood of kids doesn’t stop. My wrist burns but I keep at it. I glance over at Haley who is frantic to keep the supplies filled. The sprinkles knock over, and she sweeps them up. The kids are welcoming and throw questions at her about us. Her face reddens as she explains we went to high school together. I dig into the ice cream and act busy when she glances my way.

I keep scooping and scooping and scooping. Finally, the last few apply their toppings and head outside to the picnic tables and small patch of grass. Our job is done. I lean against the wall and rub my wrists. Haley slumps into a chair. She’s exhausted but her eyes look alive in a way I haven’t seen since last year. Mission accomplished.

“Now it’s our turn,” I say wickedly.

Haley squeals, and we attack what’s left of the ice cream and toppings. We demolish our serving within minutes. When we’re done with clean up, we slide against the wall and sit. The exhaustion settles over me and so does the feeling of contentment. This is what I like. It doesn’t last, but helping with these kids distracts me from myself. It’s the only time I forget for a little bit.

“You surprise me, Seth,” she says.

For the first time, I feel the blush in my cheeks. I share what I hope will inspire her to start reaching out. “When I left last year and went to Katie’s ranch, it was tough. I had a hard time, and work ground me to dust. Volunteering with the kids last year saved my life. It’s also the reason I came back.”

I know I’ve said the wrong thing when a mask falls over her features. Her eyes harden, and the smile drops off.

I stumble to find the right words. “I mean, I came back for lots of reasons. Working with the kids made me realize I couldn’t hide away forever, that I needed to live. That I needed to face my mistakes.”

Her eyes practically glow with rage. “Is that what this is about? Getting me to see the enlightened life you’ve lived the past year? And you’re my savior riding into town?”

Any control I’ve had over the situation flies out the door. “Not at all.” But then the truth hits me. I didn’t realize how underhanded it was until I see the betrayal on her face.

The angry words spit out. “I’ve managed on my own for the last year. Without you. I’ve done just fine. I don’t need you coming in trying to fix me like everyone else.”

Her breathing is fast and shallow, and her arms tense. I expect her to hit me, but she doesn’t. Instead she slashes me open with her words. “Your chance is over. We’re done. Your few days are up. Go find someone else to be your little project.”

She has a lot more to say but her rage brims over. “Goodbye, Seth.” She flips around and storms to the exit. At the doorway, she turns. “I’ll call Justine for a ride so don’t worry about me. And if you were going to ask me about this weekend? Forget about it!” Her voice cracks. “I’m not going. I don’t deserve to.” Then she’s gone.

I crumple to the floor. How did it go so wrong? For the first time, probably in a while, she experienced the spark of life, and I snuffed it out by trying to make sure she got the message instead of leaving it to her to figure out.

“Seth?”

I lift my head. Mandy stands at the door, the concern showing. “May I talk with you?”

“Sure.” I sound miserable, and I can’t hide it.

She sits on the carpet next to me. “If you stay in the area, I’d love to have you on board here. But I’ll pass on wisdom I learned the hard way.”

“What’s that?” I don’t mean to sound bitter but it slips out with my words.

“It’s not your job to fix others. You can only fix yourself.”

“But it is my job.” I run my hands into my hair and rest my head, my fingers digging into my scalp. Then I jerk them away. “Her pain and loss are my fault. And I’ve made it worse.”

She hesitates but then says, “I don’t know your story, but I can tell you care about this girl. Again, take care of yourself first. You can’t fix yourself by fixing her.”

She leaves me with those parting words, but I stay in the room for a long time—until shadows fall lower against the opposite wall. The light fades, and I think about everything: the past year, my friends, Haley, my family. Finally I know what I have to do. I messed up with Haley, and she’ll never give me another chance. But I’m not leaving like a coward. She’ll hear the truth one way or the other. But first, I have to face my life.

I have to go home and talk to my parents.