Fragile Hearts Read Free Page A

don't want this man
messing up my time in the water. He makes me jittery. He makes me feel things I
don't want to feel.
    He
studies my face. My heart starts racing even faster. He says, "The gym
teachers are often short-handed and I like to help out. My major is physical
therapy."
    Before
I think, I reply, "Are you some kind of do-gooder? Helping gym teachers;
helping crippled girls."
    He
narrows his eyes. "You've got a big chip on your shoulder."
    Now
it's my turn to frown. "I don't like pity."
    He
laughs softly. "Do you think I pity you?"
    I
look away. "Yes."
    We
reach the middle of the pool with the other students and the teacher calls
instructions, interrupting our conversation.
    Tyce
steps away from me and I lay on my back, floating like Mrs. Metcalf wants. She
calls out that she wants us to quiet our minds. Yeah. Right. Like I can
quiet my mind with Tyce watching my every move.
    After
floating, the teacher instructs us in exercises. The aides stand near their
assigned students waiting to offer assistance if needed. My hair is sopping and
some strands escape the big clip on top of my head and stream down my shoulders
and back.
    Tyce
says, "Wait a minute." He unhooks the clip and all my hair falls
down. I want to yell at him not to touch me. He pulls my hair on top of my head
again and fastens the clip. I wonder if he's doing this just to see my
reaction. I start to shiver. He steps away and says, "Relax, Morgan. Now you
can swim without having to wipe hair out of your eyes."
    Does
he expect me to be grateful?
    By
the end of class, I'm getting tired and Tyce steps next to me. I just want this
lesson to be over. The teacher dismisses class and the aides help their respective
students back to the lift. Again, Tyce places his hands around my waist. While
we're waiting in line, he says, "Shall we finish our conversation?"
    I
don't answer him because I don't want to finish anything.
    He
says, "I don't pity you, but I think you pity yourself."
    I
jerk my eyes to his and then revert to saying the word my parents hate.
"Whatever."
    He
laughs and I notice that everyone, students and aides, are watching us.
    It's
my turn to get in the chair and I wish I was invisible. Right now, I hate my
skinny legs and my facial scar. Tyce fastens me in and gives the signal for the
assistant to bring the lift up. The machine whirs and I place my hands on my
legs, trying to cover them. As soon as I'm out of the water an aide hands me a
towel and I quickly cover myself. Tyce pulls himself out of the water and I watch
him from lowered lashes.
    He's
beautiful.

4: Coerced Coffee
     
    On Monday, I'm relieved when Tyce doesn't show
up at my aquatics class.
    In speech class, Professor Wilkes gives an
assignment to write something funny from childhood. He says he's going to call
on students randomly throughout the semester to share their funny happening. I'll
probably throw up if he calls my name.
    Friday arrives and I congratulate myself on
surviving another week of classes and not being called on by Professor Wilkes.
I hope he's forgotten I exist. As for Tyce, I've only seen him a few times
during the week. He's always polite and says hello.
    I'm feeling pretty good about my first weeks of
college and looking forward to a marathon night of Nicholas Sparks' movies that
I brought with me from home. Before I reach my dorm, I see a familiar figure
leaning against the bricks at the entrance. I can barely breathe.
    I slowly roll my wheelchair forward.
    "Hi Morgan," Tyce calls cheerfully.
    I don't beat around the bush. "What are you
doing here?"
    "I've come to take you out for
coffee."
    "I don't like coffee," I lie.
    "Then you can order something else. Anyway,
I need to ask a favor."
    Warily, I respond, "What kind of
favor?"
    "You'll find out at the coffee shop. My
truck is over there." He points toward the curb and a shiny black
Silverado. "We can put your chair in the back and I'll lift you into the
cab."
    "I'm not going anywhere with you."
    "I figured you'd