Fragile Steps: Chapters 8-11
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TRIGGER WARNING: This story includes scenes of cruelty, bullying, and ableism. If these themes are difficult for you, please prioritize your well-being and read with caution.
Chapter 8: Brianna
The vengeful crack of a thundercloud woke her before she’d opened her eyes. When she did, she found that she was in her own bed, with Dad sitting in a shadowy corner of her room, watching her, silent and unsmiling.
As she sat up, he leaned forward, a hand reaching behind his back.
Brianna froze. “Dad, is everything okay? You’re really freaking me out.” She racked her brain, desperate to know what was wrong, thinking it had to be something to do with the procedure. Was it unsuccessful? Did I almost die? Am I dead right now?
At last, he let out a huge sigh, leaning back in the chair. “Fine. Everything’s fine, Brianna.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. He didn’t sound certain.
He was weighing up his answer when Mom burst in. “Oh, you’re awake!” She ran over and wrapped Brianna in a tight embrace, squeezing the air from her lungs, and spilling half a glass of water over her. “Here, drink up, my brave girl.”
“Thanks.” She drained the remainder of the glass, washing away most of the strange sawdust texture in her mouth.
Mom sat on the edge of the bed, grinning so wide it almost looked painful. “So, how do you feel?”
Brianna rubbed her temple, trying to clear the cobwebs from her head. “Okay, I guess.”
“Yeah, but… how do you feeeel?” Mom asked again, smiling like a creepy kid at a toy shop window.
“What do you meeeean?” said Brianna, mimicking her weirdness.
“You know…” Mom gestured to the quilt covering her lower half. “Your legs.”
“Hayley,” Dad said. “We’ve already spoken about this. It’ll be a while before Brianna can walk again; a few months, at least.”
“I know, I know. It’s just so exciting though! Do you feel anything at all, sweetheart?” Mom’s hands were clasped together tightly like she was praying.
Brianna hated to disappoint her, but already knew the answer before pinching her leg. “Nope. Nothing.”
Mom’s face dropped, shoulders slouching a little. “Really? Not even a little tingle?”
Brianna shrugged. “Sorry.”
Dad stood up. “It’ll take time, we have to be patient. Try not to think about it too much, if you can help it. Oh, and while I remember, you need to take these.”
He handed her a small dark bottle, full of pills. She turned it to read the label — there wasn’t one. “What are these?” She raised an eyebrow.
“We give them to all our patients. Take one pill, twice a day, morning and night, and don’t ever forget. They’re crucial for the healing process. In fact, take one now.”
She opened the bottle and took out a fat pill. Dad watched as she gagged it down, the thing burning all the way down to her stomach, bubbling in there like some dark concoction, leaving a lingering metallic taste in the back of her throat.
She couldn’t help but wonder how they were supposed to help her, but it wasn’t as if she could look them up on the internet — she didn’t even know their name. Still, Dad wasn’t some backstreet drug dealer, right? If he said they’d help her, then she’d suffer them for now.
“Let’s leave her to rest some more, Arthur.” Mom took her hand and gave it a little kiss. “Just yell if you need anything, okay, sweetheart?”
“Sure, thanks guys.” Brianna said, yawning.
Both left the room as she lay down, with Dad eyeballing her on the way out— what the hell was his problem? Whatever it was, she was too tired to care right now. She cocooned herself in her quilt, her heavy eyelids closing.
Chapter 9: Brianna
A hastily-scribbled note from Mom was stuck to the fridge under the Statue of Liberty magnet, saying that she’d gone to meet her friends for coffee, thus shattering Brianna’s hopes of pancakes for breakfast. Her stomach growled as she snatched a few chocolate cookies from the jar and flicked on the TV, the pretty anchor reading another delightful story:
“… and lastly, John McCoy, a forty three year-old army veteran, last seen at Eastbridge Community Center on February the sixth. Police are appealing for anyone with information on any of the missing persons, to please get in touch.”
She almost choked on her last cookie when someone hammered on the front door.
The hammering continued as she made her way to the door. “Okay! Okay!” she shouted, wiping the cookie crumbs from her face. Who was this impatient asshole? Probably a delivery guy with another package for Mom. “What is it?” she said, yanking the door open.
It wasn’t a delivery guy.
A young man stood in front of her. He was dressed all in black, soaked from the rain. He leaned against the porch, his silver eyes giving her the most intense, smoky stare. “Are you gonna let me in, or what?”
“Excuse me?” She smoothed her crumby sweater, suddenly very aware of how greasy her hair must look.
“I came to check on you.” he continued, his voice rough and assertive.
Brianna raised an eyebrow. “Check on me?”
“Yes,” he said. “Your dad asked me to.”
“My Dad?” She studied his face. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Was he someone from school? No, she’d definitely remember someone who looked like him.
Then the penny dropped.
It was Noah.
He was like a different person without his lab coat and glasses. His dark mop of rain-soaked hair framed a chiseled face that exuded a new confidence. This was not the same awkward lab geek she’d met yesterday. Now she understood why no one ever questioned why Clark Kent looked like Superman.
“Could I trouble you for a towel?” he asked, then strolled past her and into the house before she could stop him.
“My boss has a nice house,” he said, nosing around. He picked up a photo frame, turned it over, then wandered toward the kitchen. “I’ll make us some coffee.”
Brianna’s mouth was still wide open, too stunned to speak— who the hell just waltzes into someone’s house and starts making coffee?
“Are you just going to stay out in the hall while you have a guest? Kinda rude if you ask me.”
“Coming!” She stole a quick glance in the hallway mirror and gave her greasy mop a quick brush with her fingers, then tried in vain to pick the chocolate out of her teeth. She sighed, resigning herself to speaking with her mouth closed for duration of Noah’s visit.
She entered the living room just as Noah was placing a steaming mug on the coffee table. The rich aroma made her realize how much she needed it. He had even used her favorite mug, emblazoned with video game characters, which she still used despite the chip on it. “I took a guess at how you take it, hope it’s alright.”
“It’s perfect.” she said, taking a delicate sip. “Aren’t you having one?”
“No, I’m good.” His jacket hung on the door handle, and his hair was dryer now, thanks to the dish towel draped over his shoulder. He sat upright on the sofa facing me, his hands clasped in his lap, looking intently at me. “How are you feeling today, Brianna?”
“I feel fine.” And she really did. The sleep had cleared her brain fog, and the raging thirst had almost gone. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” she asked, eager to uncover the reason for his visit.
“I am at work.” He made a vague hand gesture, “This visit is part of my job.”
She scrunched her nose. “I didn’t know scientists did home visits.”
Noah groaned. “As I said, your dad sent me here. He thought it’d be a good idea if I helped you with your recovery. So here I am.”
She scoffed. This was so typical of Dad, handing her off to one of his lackeys like a problem to be managed. Why couldn’t he just do it himself? They live in the same house, after all. Then again, the man can barely look her in the eye, let alone implement some recovery plan for her. “Helping with my recovery?” she echoed, folding her arms.
“It’s pretty simple really. In order to get your legs moving, we need to get your legs moving.” His words were slow and deliberate, and he gave an annoying half-smirk at his own clever little sentence. “But I thought we could start just getting you out the house. How does brunch sound?”
Brianna blushed. Did he just ask her out? No, he was only here because Dad asked him to come over, plus no one as good looking as him would be interested in her. “I don’t really feel like it. I’m pretty tired.”
“I’m not surprised, considering all you seem to have eaten today is cookies. Yes, I saw the crumbs.”
She cringed at the thought of him thinking she has the same eating habits as a five-year-old. “But, I really just—”
“Do you really want to get me in trouble with your Dad? The fresh air and decent food will do you good, now go get ready.”
Brianna closed her eyes. She could kill Dad for this. “Fine.”
Chapter 10: Brianna
The diner was quiet, its worn red leather booths mostly filled with muttering old people, nursing their coffee and getting their fix of grease, sugar, and mundane gossip.
An aggressive rumble of hunger hit Brianna as she browsed the menu. She bit her lip; she wanted something big, something even Dad would struggle to finish. The large breakfast looked good, or maybe even that stack of pancakes she’d hoped for earlier. But was she prepared to look like a pig in front of Noah?
“I can see you eyeing up the large breakfast at the other table, you know.”
Her eyes narrowed, starting to resent that little smirk of his. “I was just looking.”
“Okay, well you can keep on ‘just looking’, or you can order it. I recommend the latter though, and quickly, before you chew that fingernail right off.” He gestured to the waitress. “One large breakfast, and — What are you drinking?”
“Uhm, just a… diet cola.”
Noah screwed his face up. “And a vanilla milkshake.”
How did he know?
The waitress gave a friendly nod and marched off to the kitchen with her notepad.
“Aren’t you hungry?” asked Brianna.
Noah shook his head. “I ate earlier.”
“So, you’re just gonna sit there and watch me stuff my face?”
“Does that bother you? Because it really shouldn’t.”
Great. Now she’d definitely look like a pig. “I’ll share some with you. I probably won’t finish it anyway.”
“Sure.” Noah fidgeted with his napkin, unfolding it to its full size, before turning to her, his chin resting on his clasped fingers. “You must be excited? You know, with the procedure, being able to walk again soon.”
“Yeah, I suppose. Just trying not to get too hopeful, you know?” Dad’s weird behavior still lingered in her mind, and she couldn’t get excited for remembering how he had been acting. Tense, shifty… suspicious.
“It’ll work.” His voice was confident, reassuring. “But it’ll take some time. Months. The rehab should speed things up a bit though.”
“Sorry you got roped into helping me with that.”
Noah smiled. “No problem. I actually volunteered to help you. Also, I thought you could maybe use some company.”
Brianna tilted her head. “What makes you think that?”
“Well, I know that your dad is a workaholic. And your mom, well I don’t know her at all. But, from what your dad has told me, nothing gets in the way of her social life.”
“You can say that again.” She began to relax a little, worrying less about looking like a pig or slurping her milkshake. It had been so long since she’d done anything like this (except for with Mom) that she’d almost forgotten how. Maybe some fresh company wasn’t a bad idea; she’d probably grown too used to her own.
“Can I ask you something personal?” said Noah.
Brianna raised an eyebrow. The guy she’d just met last night wanted to get personal. “Sure.”
Noah leaned forward, the silver of his eyes seeming to swirl and shimmer. “Can you tell me everything?”
“Everything?” said Brianna. Where did he want her to start, exactly?
Noah sat back, twisting his napkin in his fingers. “As I mentioned, your dad has told me a lot about you.” He lowered his gaze, his smile growing as he continued. “Whenever I would ask him about you, his face would just light up. Then he’d talk about you for ages, almost forgetting about work altogether. I used to love listening to him talk about you, Brianna. You sounded so tough and fearless. Your smile in those photos he showed me of you… I know how creepy it sounds, but I started to feel like I knew you. Even cared about you.”
Noah’s smile faded as he tore the napkin in two. “Then you had your accident. After that, I didn’t ask about you as much — it was just too hard to listen to. But when I did, he would tell me how you would just sit in your room. No more stories about things you’d said or done, the laughs you two and your mom used to have together. It sounded like he was losing you. I felt like I was too.”
At last, he looked up, bunching the napkin in his fist. “I understand that losing the ability to walk would mess anyone up for a while. But the Brianna I know, or thought I know… she would have bounced back from that, and quicker than most. So there has to be more to it — it can’t just be the accident. So I want to know everything. And I want to hear it from you.”
Brianna stared at him, unblinking, and wondering what to say, if anything at all. Was this really the person she wanted to open up to? And if not him, then who? After all, no one else had even asked. She hid her hands in the sleeves of her hoodie and took a deep breath. “This might take a while.”
When she started speaking, the words came pouring out, each one making her a thousand pounds lighter. She told him of the night her life changed. How Ryan O’Connell, one of her classmates, had ran her over, leaving her to die to save his own selfish fucking skin. And how his piece of shit dad, Lieutenant Frank O’Connell, had surely helped his son cover up his indiscretion.
Without pausing for breath, she moved on to how Principal Mike Munroe had turned his back on her. She’d been one of his favorites, but a cripple was of no use to him. The useless bastard had ignored her since the accident, and even turned a blind eye to the blatant bullying and exclusion she now had to suffer each day.
Which brought her to that fucking bitch Keara McKenzie. Oh, how she’d wasted no time in moving in on Brad after they’d broken up. As if that wasn’t enough, she seemed completely determined to make her life a living hell with her taunts, kicks, punches… humiliation.
Brianna’s breakfast had arrived in the middle of her story. It was freezing by the time she was done, but her blood was fit to boil.
“Wow,” said Noah, sitting back in his seat. “That was… a lot.”
Brianna nodded, prodding a piece of cold bacon with her fork. “Yep.”
“I mean, for anyone to go through even half of what you’ve endured, it’s just…” he shook his head, his voice trailing off.
“I really appreciate you listening, it means a—”
“I think the worst part,” he interrupted, his voice louder all of a sudden. “Is that these people who have wronged you — who continue to wrong you — they just get to go on living their lives. No consequences for them, none at all.”
Brianna nodded again, her blood still simmering. “Yeah. It sucks, alright.”
“It sucks? Brianna, it’s unacceptable. They can’t get away with this. These despicable excuses for human beings deserve to suffer!” Noah banged his hand off the table, causing her to jump and the entire diner to turn around and stare at them.
Her eyes were fixed on Noah’s red face. His breathing was heavier, ragged, and his eyes had a manic glint in them, almost like he’d enjoy exacting some sort of violent retribution on the bastards who’d helped ruin her life. Why would a stranger care so much?
Brianna understood. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t fantasized about hurting them, killing them even. But the thought of actually doing it…
“You’re right,” she said. “They do deserve to suffer. But I don’t want that. I mean, I do, but — I’ve been given an opportunity to get my old life back, so what better time to just move one, to put all behind me? That’s all I really want.”
Noah sighed, his face returning to its usual color. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re right, of course. Best to just leave things as they are, put it all behind you, and get on with living your life. I respect that.”
***************
Brianna turned to him as they reached her front door. “Thanks for the food.”
“My pleasure.” he said, leaning coolly against her porch. “Perhaps is best if you don’t mention to your dad that I took you out, though. That was never part of your rehab plan.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, laughing. “Good call.”
His charming smile crept back over his lips. “And maybe don’t mention anything to him the next time I take you out either.”
Brianna gawked at him, but for how long, she couldn’t say. He wanted to take her out again? Inside, she was screaming yes, but the words refused to leave her mouth.
Eventually, he seemed to get bored of waiting. “Have a good day, Brianna.” He leaned in and kissed her softly on the forehead, before strolling away.
She went inside and was heading to her bedroom when she heard Dad’s voice from the living room. “Brianna?”
“Dad?” she said. “How come your home so early?”
Dad came charging out to meet her in the hallway. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you.”
“Relax, Dad. I went out for some fresh air.”
“Fresh air?” He frowned, tilting his head at her. He knew she didn’t care about fresh air; she barely left her room most days.
“Yeah. Noah said it’d be good for me to get out the house.”
Dad’s face contorted into a tight ball, a mixture of panic and worry. “Noah?”
He was looking at her like she had two heads — didn’t he know about this? “Yeah, he came over to check on me. Said he was going to be helping me with rehab and stuff. Said it was your idea.”
Dad stared at her like he was trying figure out how to diffuse a bomb that would go off any second. Either he had a mild case of amnesia, or Noah had made up the whole thing, and there was no rehab plan, at least none that Dad knew of. Why would Noah lie about something like that though? “Noah was here? In this house?”
“Yes… is that okay?”
Then, his face gradually started to soften. “Ah, yes. The rehab plan… so what sort of thing did he do with you?”
Brianna shrugged. “Nothing. Like I said, we just went out for some fresh air. That was it.”
Dad nodded slowly, still eyeing her like he thought she was hiding something. Didn’t he trust his own daughter? Or maybe Noah was the one he didn’t trust? “Alright. Just let me know how often he comes over, okay?”
“Sure, Dad.”
He then backed away, his eyes fixed firmly on her as he edged into the living room.
Chapter 11: Noah
A blanket of cloud made for the darkest of nights. Rain tapped on the roof and spat at the windscreen. Noah didn’t bother with the wipers though, and the headlights remained off. They’d only draw attention — the last thing he wanted right now.
From the corner, he had a clear view of the school parking lot, still pretty busy. It’d be emptying shortly though; practice was almost finished. Then he could have some fun.
While he waited, he thought of Brianna. She’d been as miserable as this weather earlier. She had good reason to be, of course. For the past year, her life had been a living hell, and all because of four delightful little cretins. In his mind, she’d left two off her shit list: her dad and ex-boyfriend, but he’d worry about them and the others another time. Tonight was all about one person: Ryan O’Connell.
It had all started with him. He’d left her for dead that fateful night, caring more about his own future than her life. Well, tonight he’d pay for that.
Brianna had made it clear that she wanted to move on with her life, and understandably so. But part of her still wanted revenge — how could she not? He’d seen her anger in the way she yanked at her sleeves, clawed at the skin her fingers. She poured it over him like scalding water. Now it was his too. And there was only one way to wash it off.
Noah looked up at the sound of immature laughter. The jocks fell out the front door of the school, chugging protein shakes, fist-bumping and back-slapping, congratulating themselves on being the best team in the fucking universe. They all look like they shit muscle, like they could eat a whole cow for breakfast and still be hungry. Except for one.
Ryan, the scrawny little runt, was the last one to get in his car. As the others drove off, honking their horns and waving, he got back out, frowning and scratching his head. He walked round to the far side of his car, then saw it and cursed; one of his tires was completely deflated. Noah smiled. How did that happen, I wonder?
As Ryan opened his trunk and pulled out a pump, Noah put on his baseball cap and got out the car, quietly closing the door behind him. He kept his feet light as he approached, his grip tightening on the rusty handle of the tire iron.
Ryan was crouched at his flat tire, fiddling with the nozzle of the pump as Noah reached him. “Need some help there, buddy?”
Ryan turned, looking up with a bright smile of sparkling teeth, and Noah jammed the tire iron right in his mouth, bursting his lip and shattering that pretty-boy smile.
With a pathetic whimper, Ryan fell back, rolling around and holding his mouth, blood seeping between his fingers, mixing with the rain and trickling to the wet ground. He sounded like a dog who’d just had his tail stepped on. What a baby.
“Sorry, did I hit you there? It was an accident. Not the first accident to happen around here, eh, Ryan?”
When Ryan looked up, the shock written in his eyes brought a grin to Noah’s face. The little baby started to ramble, but the noise just irritated him. “I heard you play football, is that right? You’re a quarterback. Showing great potential, apparently.”
Noah’s voice dropped a few notches. “And that’s not all I heard about you. I also heard that you’re not big on taking responsibility for your actions.” He tutted before continuing. “You see, Ryan, you can’t just go around, doing as you please, without any accountability. It’s frowned upon — especially when it ruins lives.”
Ryan was still rambling, something like, “Please, I didn’t”, but Noah wasn’t listening.
“From now on, you have to man-up and own your actions. Daddy won’t always be there to bail you out.” Not if I can help it, he won’t.
Ryan’s whimpering turned to a soft little sob. Noah tilted his head. “I’m sorry, buddy. I didn’t want to hurt you, I just — I had to make you understand me. You do though, don’t you?”
“Mmrrph, mmrrph, mmrrph,” said Ryan, nodding.
“Okay, good. Best to make sure though.”
Noah raised the tire iron and brought it down on Ryan’s knee, over and over and over again. The screaming, the squealing, the pop of his kneecap going bye-bye. He’d fondly remember those sounds forever. Whenever he was struggling to sleep, they’d be his lullaby.
“There,” said Noah, catching his breath. “You definitely understand now, don’t you?”
Ryan was too busy cry-vomiting to answer.
“Well, take care now. And you probably wanna put some ice on that when you get home.”
Noah strolled back to his car, swinging the tire iron as those awful clouds made way for a beautiful starry evening.
That’s one, he thought.
Author’s Note:
Okay, a lot to unpack from these chapters!
Let’s back up a bit and talk about Chapter 8. Why the hell is Arthur acting so weird? You’d think he’d be happy, seeing his daughter come through the procedure unscathed, or perhaps his meeting with Jill didn’t go well? Who knows! (Well, I do, but I’m not telling you!)
Then in Chapters 9 & 10 we have Brianna and Noah getting to know each other a little better. He’s a lot cooler outside of work, isn’t he? He’s also a bit of an arrogant shit, but somehow gets away with it. And then, after Brianna tells him her story, we see a flash of his temper! I like to think that Noah is just saying what Brianna is really thinking here.
Chapter 11 is one of my favourite moments so far! Ryan, the driver in the hit-and-run which ruined Brianna’s life, gets a delightful taste of his own medicine. How satisfying was that?
Tune in next week where Brianna finds out what’s happened to Ryan, and starts to wonder if Noah was behind it.
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Really enjoying this, I'm afraid I fell behind but now I'm going to dive into the next chapters. I'm not sure what to think of Noah just yet, but I fear for Brianna here.
I have been waiting to read the new chapters of Fragile Steps all week. All week! And it was so worth it.
When Noah first appeared, I felt mildly intrigued because of the hints between the lines I was half sure I was imagining but you did not disappoint. I adore Noah. Such a sick individual.
10/10 can't wait for the next chapter(s)