Fragmented (20 page)

“No, no. You don’t need to entertain me,” I insisted. “I know you’ve got class in the morning.” Now that I was here it felt a little silly, like I’d overreacted. It had only been someone knocking on my door and was probably a drunk neighbor pulling a prank or something. I pushed the text messages out of my mind because they were far more troubling.

Kelley continued to rock on her heels. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I dragged you out of bed. You’ve done more than enough. Go back to bed. I’m just gonna crash on the couch if that’s cool.”

“Of course. You know where the extra blankets are?”

“Hallway closet, top shelf.” Sleepovers used to be frequent, and I knew the drill.

Kelley nodded briskly. “Okay. Well, goodnight.”

“Night, Kelley. And thanks again.”

Kelley’s couch was nowhere near as comfortable as my bed, but I could sleep without worrying someone was going to attack me. In the morning I’d call the building manager. Maybe the person had bugged more than me so I wouldn’t feel so targeted. But until I could call him, I closed my eyes and tried to salvage some sleep.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped out of the tub. The bathroom in my apartment wasn’t equipped with a venting fan, and I tended to take excessively hot showers, so the mirror over the sink always fogged up. The mirror was steamed as usual, but there was something wrong with the mirrored glass. I squinted my eyes and moved closer to the vanity, trying to discern what was different. Without my contacts in, I was nearly blind. I leaned closer and closer until I could nearly see. It almost looked like . . .

I grabbed my glasses off the shelving unit over the toilet and gasped when my vision became clear again. There were words on my mirror:
How many pills will it take to make me go away?

Someone had written on my mirror with his or her finger, and now that I’d showered, the hot steam had made the message visible.

I yanked open the medicine cabinet and the secondary door. The prescription bottles were still there. I ran my fingers across the lineup of bottled antipsychotics and released a long, deep breath. Who had written the message, and when had they done it? Who knew about the pills? I was always so careful.

I didn’t have time to go through each bottle individually to count the pills and see if any were missing. Instead, I opened the cabinet beneath the sink and pulled out a rag and glass cleaner. I probably didn’t have time to clean away the words to make sure they never came back, but it had to be done.

Once outside, I hustled down the street with my hands shoved deep into my coat pockets and my chin tucked into my scarf. The buckles on my boots jangled with each step. I couldn’t stop thinking about my bathroom mirror during the walk from my apartment to my car. I ran through the short list of names of who’d ever been in my apartment, but the list became impossibly short when I realized the message had to have been new. I showered every morning, and I hadn’t noticed the words before. Someone had broken into my apartment while I’d spent the night at Kelley’s, or I’d unknowingly done it myself. They were both unlikely, but it bugged me that I couldn’t decide which scenario was more unreasonable.

My phone jangled in my coat pocket as I approached my vehicle. I felt sick when I read the familiar text message:
What would they say if they knew you were more than study buddies? There’s no pill for that.

My hands were shaking, but I typed out a rapid reply:
Who is this?
I demanded again.

The response blinked back seconds later:
You already know, Harper.

My throat tightened when the next text popped up on the screen.

It’s Ruby.

+ + +

We sat on Raleigh’s twin bed, side by side, thighs just touching. I called my cell phone provider on my drive out to Raleigh’s aunt’s house to have the phone number blocked, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I hadn’t heard the last of Ruby. Had she followed me back from Memphis after Fall Break?

I couldn’t look at Raleigh. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this,” I announced into the room.

“This?” she questioned.

I motioned between our bodies. “
This
,” I tried to clarify.

A frown marred her beautiful face. “Because of my legs?”

“No!” I insisted.

“Then why not? What’s wrong?”

“I just … it’s not a good idea.”

“You don’t have to lie to save my feelings, Harper. I might be in a wheelchair,” she said stiffly, “but I’m not some porcelain doll you’re going to break.”

“I’m just trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me!” My hands went to my face. I hadn’t expected the outburst. “You don't know anything about me. Not about my past or what I’m destined to become.”

Raleigh’s hazel eyes narrowed in confusion. “What you’re destined to become?” she echoed. “Like the future ruler of England?”

My laugh was humorless and rough. “No. Like
crazy
.” The word felt ugly coming out of my mouth. My family had never used the C-word, not out loud at least, not even when my mom had gotten really sick and had had to go away.

I moved to sit at the edge of the mattress. I felt like a sprinter in the ready position, just waiting to hear the gun. I wanted to escape, but I needed her to understand.

I licked my lips and practiced the words in my head before continuing. “My family has a history of mental illness,” I started slowly. “I don’t know how far back it goes, but I know my Great Aunt had it and my Great-Grandmother before her. None of the men on my mom’s side of the family had it, and for a long time we thought that maybe it had passed over my mom. But then she started to have episodes.” I pushed out a giant breath from my lungs. “Acute paranoia schizophrenia is what the doctors decided on.”

“And you think you’re going to have it as well.”

I bit my lower lip. I didn’t want to tell her that I thought I was exhibiting the early signs—the paranoia, the haunting feeling of being watched, the strange text messages. If I said it out loud, I’d have to admit it to myself as well.

“I’m a time bomb,” I said. “It’s not a question of
if
I’ll go off—only
when
.”

“I can understand your reticence, Harper, but why now?” she questioned. “It’s not like you haven’t dated people before. I’ve even
met
your last girlfriend. Why do I get to be the one you give up on before we’ve even gotten started?”

“Because,” I gasped between the suffocating tears that now fell freely down my face. “Because I’m worried it’s starting to happen to me now.”

I knew it was cruel for me to take advantage of my able body when Raleigh couldn’t chase after me, but I thought it was for the best. She had dealt with enough in her young life. She didn’t need to get herself entangled in the cyclone that I couldn’t escape.

I left Raleigh’s aunt’s house in a hurry, letting the screen door bang shut behind me. I slipped my sunglasses on to hide my eyes, but they could do nothing about the tears that visibly ran down my cheeks.

+ + +

I knew I couldn’t avoid her forever. We had two classes together on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and with an undergraduate population of less than six thousand students, it wasn’t unusual to bump into someone you knew at the library or cafeteria. But I hadn’t expected to see her so soon.

She was waiting outside of my classroom after my first class the next morning. I looked around, nearly convinced that she couldn’t have been waiting for me. It was disorienting to see her even though I knew she had classes every day like myself.

I wanted to ignore her, to shoulder my bag and briskly walk past her faster than her self-propulsion could go, but my curiosity won out. “How did you find me?”

Her hands were on her lap. “I asked Kelley if she knew what your Tuesday class schedule was. She said she thought you had a business class this morning, so I looked at the course schedule online and guessed. I waited outside of three other classrooms before I guessed right.”

“Didn’t you have class this morning?”

“Sure, but finding you was more important,” she dismissed.

Her determination to see me made me uneasy, but also a little flattered. “What do you want?”

“Have lunch with me.”

“Lunch?” I hated myself sometimes. I’d made it sound like I’d never heard the word before.

“Lunch,” she confirmed with a curt nod. “I know you eat lunch, so don’t try to tell me you don’t.”

“I’m supposed to meet up with Kelley and the others.”

“Text them you have to study or that the Henderson’s need you early.”

“You want me to lie to my friends?”

“Or tell them you’re having lunch with me because I want to date you, but you’re being stubborn.”

“My family’s mental health history is not me being stubborn,” I reflexively snapped.

“We’re going to talk about this,” she said determinedly. “It’s either today at lunch or I keep bugging you. Your choice.”

I knew how important school and getting good grades was to her because it was something we had in common. “Raleigh,” I frowned, “you can’t miss classes because of me.”

“If you don’t have lunch with me I’ll keep skipping,” she threatened.

“That’s blackmail.”

“I prefer the word ‘leverage.’”

I tugged on my hair in frustration. “Fine,” I gave in. “One lunch, but that’s it.”

She smiled like she’d already won.

We went off-campus since we couldn’t go to the cafeteria without my friends seeing us, and I’d already texted them that the Henderson’s needed me early that day. I felt bad about yet another lie, but Raleigh had been right about it being easier than the truth.

There were a number of fast food restaurants in the immediate vicinity, but they would all be crawling with other college students also on their lunch breaks. If Raleigh and I had any hope of a real conversation, it would have to be at a sit-down restaurant, much to my wallet’s chagrin. After some deliberation, we finally decided on a new Vietnamese place in the neighborhood we’d both been wanting to try out. It was a little restaurant with limited signage that most people walking by probably didn’t even notice was there.

A bell over the door rang when I entered with Raleigh following close behind. There were only a few tables inside, most of them appropriate for only two diners at a time. Two older men in business attire occupied one of the tables, but the others were empty. A sole woman, who was nearly shorter than Raleigh was sitting in her chair, stood behind the cash register that doubled as the hostess podium.

It was dim inside the restaurant. A limited amount of natural light streamed through the front plate-glass windows and the overhead halogen lights were tempered with lamps and shades. Asian symbols and motifs covered the walls. It was cozy and charming, and under different circumstances I would have really enjoyed it.

We were immediately led to one of the vacant tables near the front of the restaurant. Despite how empty the restaurant was, we were seated practically on top of the two businessmen. It was annoying to me, but a good strategy to put diners towards the front windows to give the impression of a far busier restaurant.

After our waitress took our food and beverage order, I made my intentions clear.

“You wanted to talk,” I said, folding my hands on top of the table. “So, talk.”

“I was hoping you might tell me more about your family history, and why you seem so convinced it’s happening to you now.”

“No,” I outright denied. “That wasn’t what I agreed to.”

I could see her working the muscles in her jaw as she clenched and unclenched her teeth. I’d never seen her truly angry before, only frustrated because of her aunt. “Fine. I did some research on schizophrenia—more than what Professor Glasglow has talked about in class. It doesn’t have to be a death sentence, Harper. People can live well-adjusted, healthy, and happy lives with the proper treatment.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek to keep my emotions in check. She had no idea how this disease had torn my family apart. There was no well-adjusted, healthy, and happy option for my mom. But I couldn’t justifiably be angry at Raleigh’s naivety about my situation because I’d never told her anything about my life pre-Chicago.

“If that were true for me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Tell me about it, Harper. Please.”

Our conversation was interrupted when our witness returned with two glasses of water and big bowls of beef pho. I glanced quickly at my cell phone to check the time. I wasn’t due to pick up Sasha for a few hours. I had time. The only thing that could make Raleigh understand was the truth.