Chelsea Fine - Best Kind of Broken

“God, I love you,” she says in between kisses, and the words fill me like nothing ever has before. She smiles against my mouth. “By the way? I’m not going to New York,” she says. “I never was.”

I pull back slightly and scan her face, my heart pounding. “But you left.”

She nods. “I went home to get a box of my stuff from my mom’s, but I was heading down to Phoenix to move back into the dorms with Jenna so I can return to ASU this fall. I declined NYU’s acceptance a few weeks ago.”

“But… why?”

“Because I realized that this is my home. Arizona. Ellen.” She trails her eyes along the lines of my face. “You.” She looks up at me. “I didn’t want to leave. Even if I didn’t have you, I wanted to be where you were. Because I’m yours.” A playful smile pulls at her lips. “Even if you don’t want me…”

I slowly smile. “Oh… I want you.”

“Yeah?” she says, over a roll of thunder.

“Oh yeah.”

Then I’m kissing her all over again. Pixie—beautiful, wild Pixie—is mine. I’m more alive than I’ve ever been.

Rain pours down from the heavy clouds above, washing over us as Levi pulls me into his arms.

Here, on this wicked road where so much was lost and even more was found, we kiss to the sound of rain. Falling on the scarred earth. Falling on this place of tragedy. Washing away all the painful things and drenching the beautiful things left standing.

And lightning strikes.

“I can’t believe I let you paint on me, Pixie.” Jenna rubs her cheek where I’ve painted a sun devil in maroon and gold. “I feel like my skin is dying.”

“I think it looks cute,” Ellen says, smiling.

The three of us are seated in Sun Devil Stadium, high up in the stands overlooking the brightly lit football field below and waiting for the game to begin. I’m wearing one of Levi’s old jerseys and have my own sun devil painted on my cheek.

“Cute and sticky,” Jenna says.

“It’s called school spirit,” I say as a few crazy blonde curls fall into my face. “We’re here to support Levi and Zack.”

“Um, hello? We’re already giving Zack plenty of support.” Jenna gestures to Marvin, who’s chewing on my shoelace. “I don’t know why you even brought his goat up here.”

Ellen wrinkles her nose. “Me neither.”

I shrug. “You know Marvin is a yeller. I couldn’t leave him in the parking lot. Besides, I promised Zack I’d keep a close eye on him.”

Ellen frowns. “I thought Zack was only supposed to have his little goat pet until the end of summer. It’s November.”

I scoff. “Well, the girl who talked him into goat-sitting for the summer went off to Argentina and decided to vacation there, permanently. So Zack is now a goat daddy.”

“Goat daddy. Ew,” Jenna says. “The images running through my head right now are very disturbing.” She gasps. “Marvin! Get away from my boots or I swear to all the goat daddy gods—”

“Pixie!” says a cheery voice.

I turn to see Linda Andrews squeezing her way through the crowd to come sit with us. Mark is right behind her. They call me Pixie now, just like pretty much everyone else in my life. I love it.

“Hi, guys.” I smile and give them both long hugs. I love how Linda Andrews smells. And I love that she and Mark moved back to Copper Springs two months ago. I get to see them every other weekend when Levi and I go back home.

Their marriage still needs a lot of work, according to them, but they’re living under the same roof and participating in Levi’s—and my—life as much as possible. So that’s progress.

“I see you got roped into goat duty,” Mark says, scratching Marvin behind the ears. Mark complains about Marvin, but I think he secretly likes him.

“You and Levi are coming home for Thanksgiving, right, dear?” Linda asks with bright eyes. She loves holidays, and she’s been desperate to get a family holiday thrown together since she and Mark moved back to Arizona.

I smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“And you too, Ellen and Jenna,” she says, looking across the bench at the two of them. “The more the merrier.”

Jenna yanks her purse out of Marvin’s reach and grits her teeth. “I wish I could, but I’ll be busy slaughtering a goat.”

Ellen turns to Linda. “I’d love to come.”

Mark stands up and starts cheering as the players run out to the field. The rest of us follow suit and holler along with him.

The game begins and we sit down, all on the edge of our seats. I find Levi’s number and follow him with my eyes. Dean Maxwell readmitted him to ASU shortly after receiving Levi’s essay, which worked out perfectly since I started the art program at ASU this fall.

For the past few months, Levi’s been training like crazy for football and I’ve been spending more time painting, in color. And of course we’ve been pretty much inseparable—which is exactly how it always should have been.

He’s my best friend, and I’m his.

Levi sends a perfect throw down the field, and I cheer. I love watching him play. And I love cheering him on. And I love the way he always searches the crowd for me and smiles when he finds me. Like right now.

I watch his eyes scan the fans… up and down stadium seats… searching…

He finds me and a large grin stretches out his face. He always looks so relieved to see me in the stands, watching him. I don’t know what he’s worried about. I’m not going anywhere.

Because I’m his.

And he has me.

Levi’s eyes rove over the rest of our clan, and his face lights up. On the far end is Mark, smiling at his son with pride. Then Linda, who always gets teary eyed when she watches Levi play. Then me, with my sun devil face paint and giant jersey that says ANDREWS in big bold letters. At my feet is Marvin, who is once again chewing on my shoe. I tug my foot away and Marvin goat-cries—loudly—but the crowd drowns out the sound. Next to me is Ellen, who has her arm linked through mine. And last is Jenna, with her high-heeled boots and her rock-star makeup, always keeping me in line and believing in our friendship.

I see the joy in Levi’s eyes as he looks up at us and I share the feeling.

This is life. This is what we have. We can mourn over the broken pieces or we can cling to what’s left.

And we’re clinging like hell.