Page 9 of Before We Break Again
I glanced at the closed door, confusion flickering across my face.Dad’s manager stood awkwardly by, like he didn’t know what to do with me now that he was about to deliver me to my new life.
Just then, the door creaked open, and Grandma stepped out.She thanked the manager, who handed her an envelope.It was filled with all the legal things they needed to care for me.Grandma smiled warmly at Halsey, who handed over the basket of cookies, and then—just like that—Halsey’s eyes were back on me.
“They’re for your grandparents,” she said, her smile softening.“But you can have one if you want.”
I should’ve said something.Thank you.That’s what a normal person would say.But I wasn’t normal anymore.I wasn’t the boy I used to be.I was just the kid whose parents had died in a car crash, and now I was standing here, lost in a place I didn’t want to be, with people I barely knew.
Halsey watched me closely, like she could sense every emotion racing through my mind—the confusion, the grief, the overwhelming feelings I couldn’t yet understand.
And somehow, in that moment, I felt relief too.Maybe this wasn’t where I wanted to be, but maybe, just maybe, it was where I needed to be.Like the universe had dragged me here, to this tiny town, to this girl standing before me with her wild brown curls and curious eyes, because there was something waiting for me.Something I didn’t even know I needed.
She didn’t say a word, just waited, her eyes searching mine as if she knew exactly what I was feeling but was patient enough to let me catch up.All I could do was stare back, still trying to figure out why the crushing darkness I’d been drowning in suddenly felt a little less suffocating.
“Dustin is moving in with us,” Grandma said, breaking the silence.“From LA.”
Her eyes widened.“LA?”She tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips.“That’s far away.Why’d you come to Blissful Meadows?”
An innocent enough question, but it cut deeper than I expected.It reminded me of why I was here—why I’d left California, why my life had changed overnight.The reality of it tightened around me, making it hard to breathe, and suddenly, it all felt too real.
This time it wasn’t some stranger saying it on television or the people camped outside my house yelling questions about their deaths.Nope.This time it was me having to admit it.“My parents ...died.”The words slipped out before I could stop them, quiet and raw.It was the first time I had said them out loud.“car accident.”
I braced myself, expecting her to pull back, to flinch, or worse, to give me that pitying look I’d come to hate.The one that made me feel like I was something broken, broken beyond recognition.There was nothing and no one who could ever put me back together.
But she didn’t.Instead, she stepped closer, her gaze softening, not with pity, but with something warmer.Understanding.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and I could feel the sincerity in her words.No awkwardness.No scrambling to find the right thing to say.Just a simple truth that settled between us, like a bridge being built from her world to mine.
For the first time since the accident, I felt ...seen.Not pitied.Not judged.Just seen.
The silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.The late afternoon sunbathed the porch in a soft, golden light, and the warm breeze carried the scent of pine and fresh earth.For the first time in days—maybe weeks—the world seemed to slow down, just enough for me to breathe.
My lungs were working again, like I’d forgotten how to use them until now.My heartbeat, the one that had been numbed by grief and loss, was suddenly there.I could feel it pulsing through me.
It was like I was waking up after being trapped in some dream where everything was muted, out of focus, but now ...Now, there was clarity.The haze that had been hanging over me since the accident was lifting, just enough for the light to seep through.The burden I’d been carrying for so long hadn’t disappeared, but it felt lighter, as if her presence had eased its grip on me, even if just for a moment.
I inhaled deeply, the air filling my lungs, and with it, something else.A sense that maybe the world hadn’t completely crumbled beneath me.That maybe, standing on that porch, in the middle of this small town with this strange girl, I wasn’t as lost as I thought I was.
I wasn’t sure what to do.I wasn’t sure how to handle the unfamiliar feeling of something close to hope, but I wasn’t drowning.
I was breathing.
“I like stargazing,” she said suddenly, her voice soft but steady, cutting through the quiet.“Do you?”
The question took me by surprise.Stargazing?No one had ever asked me something like that before.It was such a simple, innocent thing, and yet it felt monumental.Especially now, when everything felt so heavy.I blinked, glancing up at the sky, where the first hints of dusk were beginning to settle.
“I guess?”I said, uncertainty lacing my voice.I hadn’t looked at the stars in ...I couldn’t remember how long.
Her face lit up, her smile stretching wide, and somehow, I knew that my answer mattered.It mattered to her, maybe even more than I realized.“Great.I’m camping out in my backyard tonight with Santos.You should come.We can watch the stars together.Say you’ll come with us.I’ll even have a sleeping bag for you.”
I didn’t know how to respond.I didn’t know her.I didn’t know Santos—would I even care?But there was something about the way she looked at me, something that told me it’d be okay to be with her, them.This was so different.I wasn’t just the new kid from LA, the one with all the baggage.I was something more than that, and it made me want to say yes.
“Okay,” I found myself saying, and the word felt like a release.
Her grin widened, and suddenly, the world didn’t seem so dark.“Cool.Meet me by the fence after dinner.”
She turned, her curls bouncing as she ran back across the yard, the sunlight catching in her hair.But then she stopped, glancing back over her shoulder with that same smile—the kind that didn’t just touch her lips but lit up her whole face.“You’re one of us now, Dustin.”
Her words lingered in the air, settling into a part of me I didn’t know had been waiting to hear them.One of us.It wasn’t just some throwaway line to make me feel better.She meant it.And that hit me harder than I could’ve imagined.I’d always been the outsider, even before everything went to hell—drifting from one place to another, never really fitting in anywhere.But here she was, this girl I barely knew, telling me I belonged.Like she could see something in me that I couldn’t yet.
