Free Every Shattered Thing (Come Alive) by Elora Ramirez Page A

no one will. I’ve said it before. The sunrise? It’s my constant. Even on the nights where I have to close my eyes to shut out things to simply survive, I always know the morning sky will scream my discontent to a world not listening. It’s violently beautiful and echoes my heart.” I stop, realizing Kevin is staring at me. Again.
    A girl could get use to this, I think a bit pleased. I raise an eyebrow and look at him, waiting.
    “You’re doing it again,” I say.
    “Doing what?” he replies.
    “Staring. Burning a hole into my face with your eyes. What gives?”
    Kevin looks at me and pulls a stray hair from my ponytail between his fingers, watching the new sunlight make iridescent gold patterns on my uncut layers.
    “You sound like a poet,” he says, smiling gently.
    My insides become a puddle at the bottom of my rib cage. If only he knew just what he was capable of with those blasted eyes, I think to myself, trying to focus on what he’s saying. It seems important, judging by the intensity of his eyes and the set of his lips. I’m able to regain composure when he starts speaking again.
    “When you speak, you sound like a poet. A broken, hurting, incomplete, yet hopeful poet.” He leans forward and whispers so softly I can barely hear him. “ I sometimes hold it half a sin to put in words the grief I feel; For words, like Nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within .”
    “Tennyson.” I reply, my breath short with surprise that Kevin’s quoting one of my favorite poets.
    He nodded, “Yeah. We read him the other day in English and it reminded me of you. You always
    ‘faintly trust the larger hope’ in anything you do. It amazes me.”
    “It’s the only thing I can do. My life, as you have witnessed first hand, isn’t ideal. But I can hope, and I can dream, and I can look for moments when I feel alive—because I am. Still alive, despite everything.”
    He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “That reminds me of something I heard in church once. Something about God being able to restore the years the locusts ate.” He catches my frown and continues, “Yeah, I’m not very religious either. But it’s kind of nice to think about the possibility of getting back some of the years you’d rather forget. Kind of like a new beginning, you know?”
    I nod slowly. “Yeah. A new beginning. Sounds almost too good to be true.”
    He leans towards me and rests his forehead against mine. “Just remember, you have people who want to hope with you.”
    I smile and shake my head, almost unwilling to believe him. I step back from him and study his face, “Kevin - why are you with me?”
    His eyebrows raise and he chuckles. “What?” I can tell my question has unnerved him. He clears his throat and runs his fingers through his hair before looking at me again.
    “I mean it. Why are you, the football star who everyone loves, with me? The invisible one?” My eyes grow thin and I place my hands on my hips. “This isn’t one of those stupid pranks is it? Like those lame teen movies where the jock has to go through with a bet to date the ugly girl?” I can feel my heartbeat pick up as I’m asking him questions that have been on my mind since we started talking.
    Regardless of what he says, it just doesn’t make sense. We seem to fit together—yes. But, how’d this even happen?
    He’s shaking his head before I can even finish my questions. “Steph. Seriously? Listen to yourself.” He pulls me close and wraps his arms around me. “Close your eyes. Breathe. Think about what you’re asking.” He lifts my head and pushes me hair back out of my eyes. “I’m with you because I care about you. I’m with you because ever since we bumped into each other at the coffee shop I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. I’m with you regardless of what others say and what others think because I know it’s right. And your past—your family—the other skeletons in your closet—those mean