Free Dust to Dust: A Broken Fairy Tale by S. P. Cervantes Page A

feelings with the girls and put them in the middle. So far, so good.
    “Hey Camryn. What are all of the boxes for? I thought your dad moved everything to storage already?” Holden yells up the steps to me.
    By the time I make it down to the basement so I don’t have to yell back, Holden is standing there holding something in his hand with a giant grin on his face. “What is it?”
    He looks up at me and turns the frame around, showing me a picture of the two of us snuggling up on our favorite bench at the side of my parents’ house. Upon closer look, I can see that I had drawn devil ears on the picture. Oh snap, he found my break-up box. What is it doing down here?!
    “I like what you did with this picture. Are there more like this one in there?” Holden asks with a devilish grin across his face.
    I scan the room, looking for the box that I know is filled with more embarrassing artifacts that I’d rather he not see. I spot the worn brown box right behind him and silently plan out my attempt to hide the box from him. I try to play it cool and shrug my shoulders like I don’t care and try to lunge past him to the box. I have no idea why I even thought I’d be able to get it away from Holden, but I have to try. Holden will never let me live it down if he sees all of the letters and pictures I kept...and possibly defaced. As predicted, Holden beats me to it, swiping the box up in his hands, using his body to block me from its grasp, laughing hysterically as I try in vain to get it back.
    “Come on, Holden. Give it to me. I don’t know how it got down here, and I’m not even sure what’s in there anymore.” I helplessly try to reach around him and grab the box as he playfully dodges my grasps.
    Holden places the box on a table in the corner of the room and blocks me out, while he begins rummaging through its contents. Please let the hurricane hit early and end this torture.
    “Let’s see here. More pictures of me made into the devil.” He tosses the pictures aside. “Oh, this is a good one. You actually cut my head out of this picture.” Holden’s face grows more serious as he looks through defaced pictures and love letters with profanity scrawled across the heartfelt words. It’s almost as if seeing all of this his hurtful to him, and no longer funny. My love and heartache for him is all on display in this little box.
    Rather than feel embarrassed, I just feel bad to have acted so immaturely. “Come on, Holden, cut me some slack. I was just a kid when I did that.”
    “Yeah, a pissed-off one at that.” He stops teasing me and hands me the box with a sad look in his eyes. “Sorry I made you hate me so much. I was young and stupid back then.” He slaps my butt and sits down on the steps behind me, running his hand through his hair with a wicked grin. “Good thing I’m older, smarter, and still devastatingly handsome now, huh?”
    He surprises me by grabbing my waist and pulling me down on his lap, snuggling his head into the crook of my neck.
    “Cut it out, Holden. You’re still an ass,” I say, slapping him on the top of my head. Before he can react, I jump over him and begin running up the steps.
    Holden comes barreling after me and tackles me at the top of the steps onto the landing. I’m shocked that he has the nerve to take me out like that. He is careful to pad my fall, but all the same, we’re not kids anymore. I roll over, smacking him off me when Holden begins tickling me and making fun of my break-up box. His eyes meet mine and they change from playful to something more, instantly. His hooded eyes stare into mine, saying so much more than his words could have. There is pain there, and possibly regret. I close my eyes, not sure what to do or say. Our breathing is heavy and he presses his forehead gently against mine. I hold my breath, afraid of what he is going to do next. I don’t want to ruin what we have spent almost a year rebuilding—a trusting, platonic friendship.
    “Hey you two.