Broken

“Fugging sheet! My nooz! U bruk my nooz!” Fred moaned.

The punch had knocked him backward onto his butt. Sitting on the floor, Fred held his nose as blood began to seep through his fingers.

“Son of a bitch!” Clive shouted, shaking his hand in pain. He hopped around while clutching his right wrist with his left hand. The throbbing dance took him several feet away from the gathered group, which had gone deadly silent after his punch.

Finn alternated his gaze between checking on Fred and Clive as his expression grew sickly.

“Whey u it me?” Fred asked, looking up in disbelief. Then, as Larry kneeled to check on him, he turned to his old childhood friend while pointing at Clive briefly. “Whey hee it me?”

“Dad, you can’t go around thinking–” Finn started to say.

“Why the fuck do you think he hit you? What’s fucking wrong with you?” Lana yelled, moving toward Fred. The redhead speaking seemed to allow the crowd to begin murmuring about what had happened.

“That’s enough, Lana,” Finn responded, holding his arm out for his ex-girlfriend to stop.

“You’re a sick bastard! Who wishes that their kid died instead of–”

“Shut up!” Finn roared.

Many in the crowd gasped at the distraught son’s shout. Lana reacted by turning toward him with a mixed expression. She still looked pissed from yelling at Fred while hurt at Finn’s order.

"Th-That's not what he meant," Finn explained, his voice lowering. It continued to decrease and turn hollower as he looked at his father again. "You damn fool. Wishing that…Mom wouldn't want…No one should've died."

Turning away from both men, Finn’s face fell further as he fought to hold back the emotions that threatened to pour out. Sensing what might come next, Peyton stepped forward with a quivering lip. However, Finn raised his hand, meaning that she should stay back.

“Finley,” Farah said, wishing to move in from his other side. However, she showed restraint while looking highly concerned. Her single word might have been soft, but it carried.

“Stay away from him!” Lana commanded.

“You stay away from me!” Finn hissed, turning to glare at the redhead. “For once, stop meddling in my life.”

Both Lana’s face and Finn’s body seemed to crumble simultaneously. Seeing an arm reach around to hold Finn up, Peyton went to her female best friend. Lana responded by burying her face into the offered shoulder.

"Come on. Let's go see your grandma," Finn's helper suggested, using all his willpower not to stumble in this critical moment.

“Okay, Barn,” Finn replied as tears began to stream down his face.

Unseen by him, Serinda and Sanna hovered behind, ready to help Barney with their cousin, as the crowd parted to let them all pass.

Back over on the floor, Fred looked bewildered as onlookers glared at him.

“Whey tay lewk bissed? Ish the one wit bruken nooz!”

“They look pissed because they think you said that Finley should’ve died instead of Cass,” Larry explained somberly.

“I didn’t say tat! Whey Ish want Pinn to die?” Fred exclaimed, sounding almost sober for a moment. “Ish tat whey Slive it me?”

“Um, here you go,” Newt said, walking over to offer a couple of towels.

Larry nodded gratefully as he took them from the teen.

“Whosh you?”

“I’m Newt. You know, from the lake the other night,” he explained. Newt also wondered why the hell he had gotten involved again when Fred looked at him in confusion. “Um, we managed to find another way to keep Whitney safe.”

“Nougat! Ow u donning?” Fred asked brightly upon recognizing him. “Aving gud time?”

“Not really. I don’t like parties,” Newt replied as Larry finished wiping Fred’s blood up.

“On’t like tarties?!” Fred questioned in shock, taking the clean towel to hold against his nose.

“Uh, no,” the teen responded before leaning in closer. “Mr. Singer, you shouldn’t wish that you died instead. Um, it doesn’t help make you feel better. It only causes more loneliness.”

“Okay, let’s get you up,” Larry stated, pulling on Fred’s left arm. “Could you give me a hand?”

“Sure,” Newt responded as Fred stared eerily at him before understanding flickered into his eyes.

Once on his feet, the drunken man continued to stare before patting Newt on the head as one would do to a dog. Newt would later find specks of dried blood in his hair.

“U gud kid, Nougat. U gud kid.”

---

“Is it broken, Dr. Mayfield?” Rachel queried.

“My examination is not under the most ideal circumstances,” Summer replied, giving an impatient look at the people attempting to crowd around her and Clive. “But, yes, I do believe that the fifth metacarpal bone is fractured. I also would consider the fourth metacarpal as a possible fracture.”

Clive yelped in pain as Summer applied pressure to the bone in question.

“Summer! Remember your bedside manner,” Peyton reminded as she hurried over.

“Oh, yes. I apologize. This is not my field of interest,” Summer said, finally noticing Clive’s tears from the pain.

“It’s okay; we understand,” Lacey said. She watched on shuffling feet while biting a fingernail.

“How are they?” Rachel asked, getting to her primary concern.

“Finn’s grandmother is talking to him. I...I don’t know how…He’s quite upset,” Petyon recounted, hemming and hawing over what to reveal. “Kiki took over for me. She and the girls are thinking of getting Lana some air.”

“I think I screwed up,” Clive said.

“Yes, one does frequently have regrets after partaking in hand-to-hand combat,” Summer agreed.

“Uh, no, I meant about why it happened. I possibly jumped to conclusions about what Fred said,” Clive admitted. “Damn foolish, too. Not only did I upset Finn, but I also gave Laffont more headline fodder.”

“Hun, we both feel the same way about Finn. You can’t control your protective instincts,” Rachel responded, patting him on the upper arm. “He knows why you reacted that way.”

“I just hope he’s not too pissed at me.”

“As I told the girls earlier, Finn is part of this family. He’ll understand. We just need to give him some time and space,” Rachel reassured, despite her own worries on the matter. “Now, we–”

“How’s the hand?” Graham inquired, joining them.

“Likely broken.”

“I just knew that Fred would pull this shit. He always manages to–”

“Let’s not go there now, okay?” Rachel interrupted.

“Yeah, sure. Uh, Dalton just had a car called to take Larry and Fred to the hospital,” Graham reported. “He figured it was for the best as Larry might get lost.”

“It looks like we’re headed that way ourselves,” Rachel replied.

“Did you want someone to drive? It’s getting awfully slick out there. I’m a little concerned about Harvey’s drive to the cabin, to be honest. Gabby sent Bridget a message, but I don’t think she’s heard back yet.”

“Oh, no. I didn’t even think about that,” Rachel admitted, sounding somewhat concerned. She glanced over at Peyton.

“Tell Dalton thanks for the offer. However, I can’t look to be getting any more special treatment from him or the Witzler,” Clive declared.

“Good luck finding somebody sober,” Graham joked.

“I should be fine–”

“No, hun. We aren’t taking that risk,” Clive cut off Rachel. “Perhaps Peyton could–”

“I can drive,” a voice offered.

“Nope. I just did a few rounds of shots with Aunt Brandy,” Peyton revealed. “Maybe Summer can drive you over.”

“Unfortunately, that is not an option. I also partook in several alcoholic beverages. Mistakenly. Miss Kupp did not realize that the junior cocktails she pushed on me contained liquor,” Summer relayed.

“I can drive,” the voice offered again.

“Let me go see if Ashlynn or somebody else from my school is okay to drive us,” Rachel said.

“I can drive you,” Lacey said for the third time, finally getting her parents’ attention.

“Oh, that’s alright, cupcake. I’ll check and see if Marshall will drive us. He usually doesn’t drink at these events,” Clive speculated about his youngest brother.

“I want to help. Why won’t you let me?” the petite redhead questioned.

“You heard Graham, honey. It’s getting slippery outside,” Rachel explained before turning back to her husband. “Marshall is a good call. He’ll have stayed sober so that Clarence has one less thing to criticize him over.”

“They always do this!” Lacey complained, turning to face Peyton. “Am I that horrible a driver? Dad wouldn’t even let me park his car in the garage when we got to the cabin. He gave Sean the keys to do it.”

“Now, honey. It’s not like that. We trust you–”

“But not in slippery conditions. You aren’t the safest driver, cupcake.”

“Well, tough. This is a family matter, and I’m probably the only family member who hasn’t had a drop of liquor. And I’m including that sneaky little bitch too,” Lacey proclaimed, gesturing across the room at sixteen-year-old Cadence. “Give me your keys. Give them to me!”

“I guess it might be alright since we’re going to be in the car with her,” Rachel suggested.

“And depending on how long we get stuck at the ER, you might be alright to drive us back here,” Clive added, reluctantly pulling his keys out of his pocket with his non-broken hand.

---

“Hey, wait up!”

Lacey stopped halfway through the lobby for Austin to catch up. Then, as soon as he reached her, she continued walking, much to her boyfriend’s chagrin. The football player threw up his hands before catching up again.

“What’s the rush?”

“I’m pulling my dad’s car up to the front doors. We have to take him to the hospital,” Lacey explained.

“Why?”

“Because he likely broke his hand.”

"No. I meant, why are you going with?"

“Someone sober needs to drive them,” Lacey responded, sighing at her boyfriend’s inability to see the issue.

“Let someone else take them. You’ve got plenty of family here that can drive a car,” Austin pointed out. “Besides, if your parents are at the hospital, it’s perfect for us.”

“What?” Lacey asked, slowing down. “How is it perfect?”

"C'mon, Lace, you know how your dad gets. So if they're gone, we can go upstairs and ring in the new year in memorable fashion."

“Hold on,” Lacey began, skidding to a complete stop. “Your idea of perfect is my dad breaking his hand while punching Finn’s dad so that he has to go to the emergency room, which allows us to sneak upstairs and screw.”

“I mean, yeah, it sucks that your dad caused a big scene and broke his hand, but–”

“My dad did not cause a big scene! Mr. Singer got drunk and caused yet another one,” Lacey pointed out. “However, I’m sure that you’re happy with the fallout. First, we sneak off and screw, and then, your dad’s buddy plasters more shitty, made-up headlines all over the internet.”

“Mr. Laffont is not my dad’s buddy. I didn’t even know they were friendly,” Austin defended. “But, it’s all going to be cool. Once we all vote my dad in as mayor, things will change around town.”

“We? I am not voting for your father,” Lacey declared.

“Why not? He’s my dad!”

“Yeah, and I know how much of a controlling asshole he is to Rory. How’s he going to act with power?”

“Whoa! What’s up your butt tonight? It’s bad enough that you neglected me. Now, you’re insulting my dad.”

Unbeknownst to the couple, their conversation not only grew louder but also attracted attention.

“I haven’t been neglecting you. I’ve been busy. Even though I should neglect you,” Lacey responded.

“Why? What did I do?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, is this about what happened at the lake?”

“You mean your taking credit for saving Whitney? Why would I ever be upset about that?” the petite redhead asked sarcastically. Her words also caused cell phone cameras to start recording.

“Whoa! That wasn’t me. Weston is the one who botched the story.”

“And where did he hear that version from?”

“Uh, Kaia,” Austin said. Lacey’s waiting face led him to continue. “Okay, so I told my family about what happened. I did help save them. You know that!”

“I know that you’ve exaggerated your small role. And I know that you know Sean dove in to save Whitney. We both saw him. So lay off with your bullshit about him looking like an idiot or whatever you said.”

“Oh, it’s always about Sean! He probably would’ve died if it wasn’t for me!”

"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you so used to people fawning over you that you can't handle someone else getting the recognition they deserve?" Lacey threw her hands up in the air. "I don't have time for this jealousy. I gotta get my dad to the hospital."

“C’mon, Lace. Let someone else drive them,” Austin responded, moving to block his girlfriend from walking away. “Look, I’m sorry. Let’s go upstairs, and let me make it up to you. You know that I’ve been on edge ever since we lost the in the play–”

“I don’t care about the playoffs. That was two months ago. Honey Hollow lost. You need to get over it.”

Austin reacted as if Lacey had slapped him.

“That loss was everything to me. How can you be so selfish?”

“Me?!”

Austin finally noticed that a crowd had gathered to watch their argument. He also saw the raised phones.

“Uh, people are watching us, Lace. Maybe we should go upstairs and forget about Sean, Whitney, your parents–”

“Of all the selfish, self-centered shit I’ve put up with over the last two years…” the redhead trailed off.

SMACK

The crowd gasped loudly at the backhanded slap.

Austin rocked back as his girlfriend spun around to storm off.

“Wha–Lacey!”

“We are done!”

Rubbing his cheek, Austin blinked in confusion.

“What does…Are you breaking up with me?”

“Yeah, I just dumped your ass!” Lacey yelled over her shoulder.