Heart Murmurs by R. R. Smythe

weak. I couldn’t even run. I couldn’t save him. I. Hate. Being, being…”
    â€œDependent?” He finishes my sentence.
    â€œYes. It sucks.”
    He pulls me closer, till our sides are touching. “I imagine it does. You remind me of one of my sisters. Willful. Independent. Headstrong.”
    My mind takes flight with my beating heart. I don’t want to be your sister. I want you to want me, like a man wants a woman. Like this ridiculous, insatiable need I have for you.
    And it suddenly hits me. How lonely he must be. Are all of his family dead?
    I bite my lip, terrified he’ll resume his guard. “Do? Do you miss her? Your sister?”
    â€œTerribly.” His smile is tight, but his eyes are still warm. “Maybe I could use a friend, after all.”
    I want so much more. But it’s a start. I smile back. “Just one.”
    He smiles in earnest. “Just one.”

 
Chapter Nine
    A Heart Divided
    Â 
    I feel awful today; every movement’s like swimming upstream. Since the collapse in the shop yesterday and the death-wish-toddler-tour, I’ve felt breathless and light-headed.
    Claire’s tray clatters down next to mine, and she leans closer to be heard over the cafeteria noise. “Mia, hon, you look awful. Go home.”
    â€œNo. I’m fine.”
    â€œYou aren’t fine. And honestly, I don’t want to try out my new, mad CPR skills from health class. Why are you being so stubborn?”
    I sigh and turn back to my fries, trying to blend in. Lately — this hasn’t been a problem.
    I run through the embarrassing conversation with Beth from last night, trying to block out Claire’s prattling. Prattling? Where’d I get that? Too much Austen.
    Beth threatened ( and I didn’t think she was capable of threatening) to fire Morgan and I if we couldn’t keep our hands off one another.
    Or our lips, or any other body part. She also promised to tell my parents if it happened again. Especially at work — where we were scaring her patrons away.
    Morgan walks through the cafeteria, sweeping past my table without a glance. I flush with irritation.
    Claire notices. “I thought you two were…”
    â€œI don’t know what we are,” I snap.
    He’s in gym shorts, and every eye in the cafeteria is ogling his deformed calf. It looks as if an animal bit and removed the outer muscle, leaving a barely-covered, stick-like bone in its place. And the skin… is discolored, darkened.
    Morgan sits down beside the new kid, Calvin. The first black kid in this all-white school. They already look to be best buds as Calvin flashes him a wide smile. Well, at least he’s accepted one friend.
    â€œHas he ever told you what happened to his leg?” Claire asks, not taking her eyes from it.
    â€œNo, he’s too busy swinging from his wild desire to suck my face off to not speaking to me for days at a time.” My hands ball into fists.
    Apple struts past, hanging on Steve’s arm like some dangly man-purse. Her gum popping grinds my last nerve.
    â€œThat’s disgusting,” I say, loud enough for her to hear.
    She stops dead, dropping her arm from Steve’s. “No, that’s disgusting.” She jabs her manicured nail toward a tiny bit of my scar poking out at the top of my shirt.
    Claire quivers in her seat and shoots to standing. “You are a pathetic piece of plastic. How much did those cost?” Claire points to Apple’s double D’s.
    â€œMaybe Mia can use my doc for her scar.” She smiles tauntingly.
    Everyone within earshot is staring.
    Humiliation burns down my face, like hot tentacles, spreading across my neck and chest.
    â€œYou stupid—” Claire steps forward.
    â€œI got this, Claire.” I stand up and step forward, not thinking, not seeing.
    I want to smear that perfectly made-up face to match her insides. Screwed up and ugly.
    I cock my