Page 16 of Shuttered Hearts

I’m a coward.Instead of getting to work early, like I have since the first day I started at Ashford Falls High, I walked into my classroom only minutes before the first bell rings.

I can’t really say why, except I’m still feeling a little raw from my conversation with Scott last night. Once we started playing rummy, our conversation stayed on a lighter note, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said. And seeing Quinn would keep reminding me of what we’ll all be losing. Her being here is a reminder Scott’s days are numbered.

It’s not like I had a lousy childhood. It was pretty good looking back at it. I didn’t necessarily feel I could talk to my parents about everything going on in my life, but I knew they would be there if I needed them. At least one of them, if not both, was at all my after-school activities, both sports and art-related. I was honestly surprised my parents hadn’t been more supportive after my divorce. I knew they disagreed with it, but my entire childhood led me to believe they still would have supported me.

Obviously, I had been wrong.

My sister tried her best to support me, but it had been difficult with her being away at law school. She moved home right after I moved to Ashford Falls. She made the trip to see me a couple of times a year, and she was the reason I still went home for the holidays.

It’s Caleb and Scott who have completely changed the way I look at family. It shouldn’t surprise me Scott’s right. Family isn’t only about blood. He showed me that every time he invited me over for a family activity, or because he wanted to see me. And Caleb was right there reinforcing that feeling of being a part of the family. Our text chat on my phone is filled with random GIFs he sends to make sure I know he hasn’t forgotten me when he has multiple late shifts at the hospital.

It’s lunch now, and I know I can’t avoid Quinn forever. Moreover, it isn’t fair to Quinn that I’m avoiding her. Her family firmly believed she’d come home on her own someday. If that were true, then being in each other’s lives was inevitable. Scott’s illness only sped that up.

I make my way down the hall to her classroom and see her door open. Through it, I see Quinn at her desk, looking down at some papers in front of her. Her hair is tied up in a messy knot on her head, and a few pieces have fallen loose around her face. Even though she has a pen in her hand, there’s a pencil tucked behind her ear, making me smile.

I knock lightly on the doorjamb before walking into the classroom. “Hey.”

Her head jerks up, and her shoulders relax when she sees it’s me. “Hey. I didn’t see you this morning before school started.”

I come around the table in front of her desk, leaning back and bracing my arms on the edge. “Yeah, I was a little …” I hold my breath, puff my cheeks, and blow out the air, unsure how to finish that sentence.

“I think I know what you mean.” She throws the pen in her hand down and leans back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. I’m sure she doesn’t mean to, but in doing so, she pushes up her chest, and I can’t help but glance down quickly before looking back at her face.

“I don’t even know what I mean, I don’t know how you could.” I’ve never been unable to label my emotions, and it’s not even because I don’t want to vocalize them, I just don’t know how to explain them. Not when it comes to Quinn, and not when it comes to the idea of her father dying. The latter shocks me far more than the former—though the former does surprise me. I’ve lost loved ones before. I should know how to handle this.

But no, when it comes to the idea of losing Scott, I’m frozen. I know there’s a bit of fear there, but there’s something else I can’t place.

Scott isn’t the only reason I’ve been welcomed into the Marks family. Caleb is more a brother to me than anything, and that’s because of what we built on our own. I know that won’t change when Scott’s gone. So, it’s not fear of losing these relationships I’ve built, but something else. Fear of what the future holds. Fear of not having this friend to lean on, one I’ve taken for granted. Fear of losing the guidance he has always offered me when asked. Fear of how these people I’ve come to love will survive this loss.

I’ve lost people I was close to before. But this is different. Maybe it’s because he’s so young or because we know it’s coming. But I’ve never felt this lost before.

Quinn shrugs. “Dad has a way of leaving you feeling at peace, while also making you question everything you think you know about life. He’s always been like that, but I think he’s making me question life far more than he used to.”

A laugh bursts out of me. “Yeah, I know that feeling. He does have a way of doing that, doesn’t he?”

Quinn looks at me, her eyebrows drawing in, like she doesn’t understand something. “I’m trying to figure out how none of them ever mentioned you before. Or how I’ve somehow always managed to time my visits while you’ve been out of town.”

Now it’s my turn to shrug. “I can tell you why I’ve always been gone when you’ve been in town, but I don’t know how they’ve never mentioned me over the last five years. I know, in the beginning, they thought you might feel guilty this random guy they just met was around so much. Helping whenever they needed. Then I think they thought you might worry.” I get a little more situated, leaning against the table and cross my arms. “Why is this stranger always around? Why is he helping so much? If they need that much help, is his illness worse than they made it seem?”

“Yeah, I can see that being something I would have thought about.” She shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with that thought. She swallows before asking, “Was it worse than they told me?”

“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t think his prognosis was worse than what they told you, but it’s possible the side effects of his treatments were.” I give her a moment to digest everything.

They likely glossed over a lot of information back then, trying to keep her from worrying. They knew there was nothing she could do, so telling her everything wouldn’t have done anyone any good. “I remember Max being a big conversation at the time. He was young, and it was normal for him to share everything when he spoke with you. They never told him to withhold anything, but he was also pretty young at the time, so he wasn’t told everything.”

Quinn leans forward in her chair. Her eyes close for a second, as if she’s remembering something. “He did talk about you.” She opens her eyes and looks at me. “Max did mention you. I thoughthe was talking about a kid in his class. He would talk about all the cool things you two did together.” She shrugs again. “I knew Dad’s treatment was going to take it out of him. I thought Max had this friend in class whose parents knew what was going on and were trying to help by keeping him occupied.”

“You’re not wrong about wanting to occupy his time. That’s exactly what I had been doing.”

“He stopped talking about you, though.” She squints at me. “I didn’t question it at the time.”

“I don’t know why you would. He just started school at that point, meeting new people, making new friends. It was probably normal for him to talk about someone one day and someone else another.”

“No, he talked about you a lot. You were a big part of his life.” I can’t be positive, but a look of pure gratitude crosses her face.

“They’ve all been a big part of my life. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t met your family when I did.” Before she can say anything, I continue, needing to change the subject. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I’ve never seen a recent picture of you. I mean, Emily has tons of pictures from their wedding around their house.”

Quinn laughs. “I was twenty-one, and a bit of a wild child. I absolutely hated most of the pictures I was in from their wedding. Upon threat of death, Emily was told not to put up any I was in. Or, at least, none where I would be easily seen and identified. I think she’s got a couple of the full wedding party up. I would be in those.”

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