Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 74

Milly called Jake as soon as I told her the news. I was happy for her, and judging from the volume of the exclamation I heard from the other end of the phone, Jake was pretty happy too. I smiled but said to her, "Make sure you tell Jake not to tell Angela." She frowned, "Why?" I shrugged, "I want to tell her myself." She grinned, rather mischievously, at me, and I rolled my eyes at her. She laughed, and told Jake. I left the room, walking into my own room and sighing at the sight of all the things I would have to repack now. I got to work.

When I came home from the mall, I found Jake sitting on the living room

couch, watching That 70's Show. I laughed at the sight and said, "Hey, Jake."

He looked up, just noticing my entrance, (hard to get distracted from a show

so attention-keeping,) and smiled widely at me. His smile made me smile

back, but I was sort of confused. "Good mood?" I asked. I looked at the TV,

"Is it Ashton Kutcher that's brought this on?" He laughed, "Um, sorry, but no."

I tilted my head, waiting for him to explain himself. "Milly called," he said,

"She's coming to stay this weekend, with Tyler." I grinned, "Oh, she's coming,

too? That's cool." I was glad, for Jake's sake, that she was coming. Jake was

quiet about his grieving, but he was as much as any of us. Milly had been

helping him, without even knowing it, like Tyler had been helping me. But

they left, and Jake and I were both left alone. I bit my lip at this thought but

smiled at Jake as I said, "I've got a lot of homework, so I'll see you at dinner."

He nodded, "Ok, see you," and I headed up the staircase.

The last time a memory had come to me, I had been startled. But that

was nothing compared to the way I felt when I walked into my room and saw

Dustin standing on a chair in front of our drawers, tacking up the Devo poster.

She was going on about the band, telling me everything her English teacher

had told the class as he used the band's lyrics to relate to something he was

talking about with them. I covered my hand with my mouth and stood there

for a moment just staring at her. After a minute, I fell to the ground, my

knees no longer capable of holding me, and a loud sob that I hadn't heard from

myself recently escaped my throat, followed by others of it's kind. I had already

thrown the poster away. But I thought about possibly searching the recycling

bin for it.

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