Free Fragmented by Eliza Lentzski Page B

me.
    “I don’t really like scary movies,” I admitted. My own life was scary enough without watching those kinds of films.
    “That’s because you haven’t been introduced to the right scary movies,” Raleigh suggested, smiling brightly. “Don’t worry, we’ll have a movie marathon and I’ll have you hooked by the end. I’ll introduce you to all the classics: Friday the 13th , Halloween , Night of the Living Dead , The Shining ,” she ticked off. “And don’t even get me started on Hitchcock films.”
    “Wow. You really are a fan,” I murmured as I looked for a vacant parking spot in the plowed field.
    “I just like movies,” she shrugged. “It’s one activity that I didn’t have to alter after the accident, kind of like reading books.”
    “You bring the movies, and I’ll bring the popcorn,” I returned with an even smile.
    I eventually found a parking spot and turned off the car’s engine. I was out of the vehicle and grabbing Raleigh’s wheelchair out of the trunk before she could even take off her seatbelt. By the time I reached the front passenger side with the wheelchair, Raleigh had her door open and her legs were swung out.
    “What do you need me to do?” I asked. When I’d shown up at Raleigh’s house that afternoon, her aunt had helped her into my car. Her aunt had eyeballed my vehicle as I’d put the folded up wheelchair into the trunk, but hadn’t voiced whatever misgivings she was clearly feeling. I wanted to be useful and not an awkward bystander the second time around.
    “Set the locks for me?” she requested. “I’d hate to roll away.”
    I did what was asked and stood back. “Anything else?”
    “I’ve got this part,” she assured me as she carefully hefted herself out of the passenger seat with just the strength of her upper arms. I couldn’t help but reflect on how jealous Lauren would be. “I’m usually pretty good getting out of cars. It’s the getting in that takes me some time.”
    I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket and did my best to ignore how families and couples slowed down as they walked by us and openly stared at Raleigh as she maneuvered out of the car and into her wheelchair. I wanted to yell at them like Jenn had done to the red muscle car or at least to shoot them dirty looks, but I didn’t want to make a scene. Instead, I took Raleigh’s own advice and imagined that they were only gawking because she was so attractive. That part wasn’t hard to imagine, at least. She was beautiful.
    That night Raleigh had retired her usual sundress and cardigan for jeans and a sweater. Her hair was pulled half up away from her face, but a few loose tendrils were purposely loose and framed her face. A pale pink lip-gloss colored her pouting mouth. Her hazel eyes looked even more dramatic off-campus. Her long eyelashes were expertly mascara’d and the smoky eye shadow perfectly complimented the color of her irises. The night was early, but I’d already caught myself staring at her several times and had to consciously remind myself that I wasn’t single.
    My phone buzzed inside my purse with an incoming text. I’d turned off the ringer, but had left it on vibrate.
    Call me.
    It was from my brother Damien. We rarely talked, only enough to keep tabs on each other. He still lived in the Memphis area with his wife Sandra and their kid, Austin. His messages were usually more verbose, but if it were an emergency he would have called me.
    “Everything okay?”
    “Yeah. Perfect,” I said. I shoved my phone back into my bag without replying to the message and focused on my company instead.
    When Raleigh finally settled into her chair, she gave an experimental push. Her gloved fingers curled around both wheels to see how easily she could operate the wheelchair on the bumpy terrain. “I might need a little shove,” she decided. “The ground is pretty uneven.”
    “No problem.” I scrambled to position myself behind her, happy to help. “I’ve got