Our Broken Pieces (The Pieces Series Book 1)

by M. E. Clayton

  “I just...well, you’ve never mentioned liking him or anything,” I added lamely.

  “The guy’s hot, but I’m not one to chase dick, Missy,” she replied. “But now that he’s asked me to prom, well…” She trailed off, leaving all the implications of her sentence hanging between us.

  I put on my best smile. “Well, I think you guys will make a great...team. Date. Couple,” I stammered.

  Her grin was back in full force. “I know, right?”

  I wanted to be happy for her. I really did. By all accounts, Chance was a good guy and, objectively, they would make a great couple. But with Chance came along Gage Evans, and therein laid the problem. Where Chance was a good guy, Gage Evans wasn’t.

  Gage Evans was everything I should avoid.

  Gage Evans was not a good guy.

  Chapter 2

  Gage~

  Normally, I didn’t care who Chance fucked, but him asking Margot Cross to prom was a blindside I hadn’t seen coming.

  Sure, over the years, he’s mentioned how hot she was and that he wouldn’t mind getting his dick wet with her, but I never thought he’d actually ask her to prom. Chance didn’t do relationships. He dated girls, but it was casual dating, and everyone knew the score. He’s never asked a girl to prom, the winter formal, or even a goddamn movie. Chance hung out with girls, and if he was lucky-which the bastard was-he got laid more often than not. So, when he told me he had asked Margot Cross to prom, I had been surprised.

  Then pissed.

  While Chance was my best friend, I had a whole world of secrets he knew nothing about, and him dating Margot Cross threatened those secrets.

  My family belonged to the ‘right’ side of Cranston, California. My father was a medical doctor and my mother was a family psychiatrist. We lived in a two-story modern home, complete with all that the new-age automation crap, and it was important that I lived up to the image that was expected of me. And because of that expectation, I guarded my secrets fiercely.

  We were in the locker room, ready to hit the football field, when Chance had made his little announcement about asking Margot Cross to prom. Our lockers were next to one another, so it was easy to have semi-private conversations in here without having to shout across the room and noise.

  I pulled my shirt up over my head and looked over at him. “Why?”

  Chance threw me a smirk as he started unbuttoning his pants. “Don’t be like that, G,” he chuckled. “Margot Cross is hot as fuck, dude, and you know it.”

  Margot Cross was a hot piece of ass, there was no denying it. And, by all accounts, she was a good person, too. She was popular and kind to everyone. I didn’t hang out with her or talk to her, but there were plenty of rumors going around that she had given it up to her ex-boyfriend, Timothy Carr, last year, but then quickly dumped him after she’d found out she hadn’t been the only one he had been getting pussy from. Timothy, in turn, did what all insecure assholes did; he started spreading rumors about her. Unfortunately for him, he underestimated just how much people liked Margot, so his bullshit never stuck. And now it was like he never existed.

  “I’m not saying she isn’t,” I replied as I started removing my jeans. “I’m just surprised.” I shucked my jeans. “You’ve never mentioned liking her before. And since when do you ask girls to prom?”

  He pulled on his undershirt, and then looked over at me. “I’m not looking to marry her, G. It’s just fucking prom.”

  My brows shot up. The defensiveness was new, too. Chance was usually super laid back. “Hey, man, no need to get pissy about it. I was just wondering what changed.” If shit were just casual and Chance just wanted to fuck her, I could work with that. But if he really liked her, that might change things and, if so, I needed to know.

  The drop in my gut was instant when he said, “I like her, okay.” Fuck. “I never made a play because she was dating that asshole for all that time, and then, when she dumped him...I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to give her time to move on from him. Girls are funny about their first.”

  I made sure to keep my face impassive at his comment about girls being funny about their first. He had a point, though. Whether good or bad, girls will always remember the guy they gave their virginity to, and it didn’t necessarily have anything to do with the guy himself. They’ll remember their first time because it’s their first goddamn time. Just like most guys remember the first time they ever sank their dick inside a warm, wet pussy, most girls will remember the first time they were torn apart. Eve really fucked the game up for women everywhere when she ate that goddamn apple.

  We finished gearing up in silence, but when we were about to head out onto the field, I asked, “But why start something now, Chance? We graduate in six months. What happens if you end up really liking this girl?”

  Chance shrugged his shoulder. “I haven’t gotten that far,” he admitted. “If it works out, maybe we make it clear that this thing has an expiration date. I dunno.”

  And expiration date.

  I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t. Arrangements and agreements sounded all good and well while you were making them, but emotions didn’t have expiration dates. Love, hate, heartbreak...you didn’t stop feeling those emotions just because you abided by the agreed upon deadline.

  “Well, good luck with that,” I replied, trying my best to sound supportive. “She’s a cool girl.” The words sounded lame even to my ears, but this shit was fucking with me.

  Chance cocked his head and gave me a queer look. “Uh, thanks,” he muttered.

  We headed out towards the football field with the rest of the team without saying anything more about Margot, but she was resting heavily on my mind. Football was coming to an end, with only a couple of more games left in the season, so I wasn’t overly concerned with practice. I loved football, and I knew a few scouts have been checking me out lately, but I loved practicality more. No matter how good I was at throwing the football, I planned on going to college for a sensible and tangible degree.

  I wasn’t the type of person who could be blinded by money, women, or fame. That just wasn’t my character. I knew if you chose a career in professional sports it could all come crashing down with just one injury or an awful scandal. If I did decide to play football professionally, I still wanted something I could fall back on, so I made football second to reality. Or maybe football was third on my list of priorities.

  We got out onto the football field, and immediately to the left of the entrance, we could see the cheerleaders practicing on the sidelines. I glanced over at Chance, and, yep, his eyes automatically searched Margot out, and I knew I was fucked when I noticed Margot seeking Chance out, a wide smile plastered on her face.

  These two assholes were going to start dating.

  Standing in the middle of the football field, I wasn’t listening to a word Coach McGillis was saying. I was too busy noticing how Chance was standing next to me with hearts in his fucking eyes. Now, don’t get me wrong. As much as I hated the idea of Chance dating Margot, I would never do anything to sabotage whatever he was going to try to build with her, whether marriage and kids or a one-night stand. I just didn’t like it.

  I didn’t like having to share my space with people. I had a shitload of acquaintances, but Chance was my only real friend. I could hang out in crowds, and I could party with the best of them, but my conversations were superficial at best and no one knew the real me. Chance didn’t even know the real me.

  Wait.

  That’s a lie.

  There was one person who knew the real me.

  There was one person who saw right through the perfect high school football god and saw what really made me tick.

  She knew the truth about what really made my heart pound inside my chest; what really made me feel alive. She couldn’t be snowed, and she saw what everyone else around us were too blind to see.

  Mystic Anderson.

  Mystic Anderson who also happened to be Margot Cross’ best friend. She was the person I d
id my best to avoid. She was the person I went out of my way to not interact with in public.

  I avoided the shit out of that girl when I could, but if Chance were going to start dating Margot, that would all come to an end. I was going to start seeing her more often, and that wasn’t good.

  Nothing about any of this was good.

  Chapter 3

  Mystic~

  “How was school today?”

  I walked into the kitchen towards my mother’s voice and I found her standing between the stove and refrigerator prepping for dinner. It was already close to five because I had hung out at Margot’s after school for a bit, helping her with the last-minute arrangements for her party.

  My mother, Destiny, and Alaric all shared the same dark blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes. And while Alaric inherited our father’s build, anyone with eyes could tell they were all related. I took after Dad with my dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and heart-shaped face. I was also...uh, not slim. I wasn’t fat, but I wasn’t statuesque like Destiny. I had curves, but I didn’t hate on them. I accepted them like everything else in life I couldn’t change.

  I sat down at the kitchen island. “It was fine,” I replied. “Everyone’s still getting back into the swing of things after Christmas break.”

  Mom stopped what she was doing and turned to face me. I almost groaned because I knew that look. Mom was about to start parenting. “Mystic, honey-”

  I did groan then. “Mooooommmm, can-”

  “Mystic,” she clipped out, interrupting my whining, “Alaric and Destiny had everything in line by this time when they were in high school.”

  I didn’t want to be disrespectful because my parents really were good people. We lived a good life where we wanted for nothing and my parents could afford to send three kids to college. My father was a corporate attorney and my mother was an elementary school principal. Luckily, Cranston was big enough to need three elementary schools, and Alaric, Destiny, and I had gone to Millerton Elementary where our mom hadn’t been the principal

  Growing up in the Anderson household had been sickenly rather perfect. Sure, we’d had our fights over the years, and there were times when I had been certain the world was going to end because Destiny had ruined my favorite shirt and Alaric had made fun of my early-sprouting boobs, but our home had been, and still was, a good one.

  We were blessed. I knew this. I knew this and I truly was grateful for it. But that still didn’t mean my life was perfect. That I was perfect.

  “That’s because Alaric and Destiny knew what they wanted to be, Mom,” I countered. “They had all their plans lined out because Alaric knew he wanted to be a veterinarian and Dez knew she wanted to be a scientist.”

  Mom turned around and I waited patiently as she washed her hands, grab the hand towel to dry them, and turn back around to face me. “Mystic, you don’t have to decide the rest of your life right now,” she started. “If you don’t want to go to college, we are fine with that. But only if it’s because you really don’t want to go to college and not because you were just procrastinating.”

  Another reason why my parents were great? They weren’t bullies. They weren’t smothering and they’ve always respected the fact that, while we were young, we still had our own minds and it was ultimately our lives that we’d be leading. She really meant what she was saying. My parents didn’t care if I lived my life washing dishes as a busboy at a local restaurant as long as I was happy. Gene and Layla Anderson were awesome like that.

  “How do I know which school will be best for me if I have no idea what I want to do with my life, Mom?” I asked honestly. I felt like I was on...pause. Most everyone at school had at least a vague idea of what they’d like to do in life, but I had nothing. I had no serious passion for anything that I’d want to see or do for the rest of my life. I enjoyed music and l liked art, but not enough to make a living out of either. I was good with numbers, but I didn’t have a passion for them. I had a solitary personality and that narrowed down my choices quite a bit.

  My mother walked around the island and sat down next to me. “Honey, the only professions that need that kind of consideration are the ones where you’ll need to go to medical school or law school afterwards, or something like that,” she said, trying to explain real life to me. “College is still just another level in life where you try to find out who you are.”

  I thought about her words, but they still didn’t make me feel better. “But what a waste of money if I can’t figure it out, or worse, drop out after only a year or two,” I replied. I looked at my mom’s concerned face. “Maybe I could take a year off, or something?”

  She gave me a tight nod and I could see her considering the idea. “Maybe,” she agreed. “But sooner or later you’re going to have to make a decision about your life, Mystic. You can’t live here forever, hiding out from the world.”

  My back straightened. “I don’t spend my life hiding from the world,” I automatically denied.

  Mom raised a brow and looked at me like she does when she knows we’re full of shit. “Mystic, even though your father and I give you kids the freedoms we feel you deserve, that does not mean we don’t pay attention or know what’s going on in your lives.”

  My heart dropped and I wondered if this was what it felt like to have an honest-to-goodness heart attack. There’s no way she could know what I was up to. There’s no way she could know what I was about. If she did, there’s no way she’d let it continue. There’s no way she and my father would not have shipped me off to Berlin or somewhere by now if they knew.

  “Wh...what do you mean?”

  She let out a soft sigh. “I’m talking about how Margot is your only friend and, if you’re not with her, you’re studying at the library, or holding yourself up in your room,” she replied. “You never go to parties or any sports games or...anything, Mystic.”

  “That’s not true,” I denied. “I’m going to Margot’s party this weekend.”

  Mom rolled her eyes and I found it odd whenever an adult did that. It was such a teenage thing to do. “The only reason you’re going to her party is because it’s her eighteenth birthday party and you’re her best friend, Mystic,” she retorted. “If it wasn’t for that, we both know you wouldn’t be going.”

  I deflated because she was right. I did hide from the world, but not for the reasons she thinks. I’m not shy. I’m not timid. I’m not anti-social.

  I’m...broken.

  I was broken and I didn’t know how to interact with people who weren’t. Margot and I became friends when I was too young to know that I was broken, and that was the only reason we were best friends.

  Well, as best of friends as I would allow. You didn’t gamble with uncertainty. I knew Margot loved me to pieces, but would she still if she knew the real me? Highly unlikely, that. I wasn’t ignorant to the fact that people shied away from things they didn’t understand. They judged, even if they didn’t want to. The more people learned about what made you tick, the more skewed their perception of you became. It was natural to pick apart what you didn’t understand.

  That was the reason there were so many anonymous chatrooms and secret clubs. People wanted to be able to purge their perversions, their anger, their contempt, their desires, etc. without being judged for it.

  I was also lying through my teeth about college. Oh, it was true that I didn’t know what I wanted to do in life, but that wasn’t my only hang up. Like the rest of my secrets, there was another reason, known only to me, why I wasn’t in a hurry to apply to colleges and start that new phase of my life.

  It was because I was pathetic.

  I was pathetic, and do you know how hard it is to balance being independent but pathetic? It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy to have a handle on all aspects of your life but one.

  The one that had the power to destroy everything else.

  Chapter 4

  Gage~

  I walked into the house and saw the suitcases lingering in the foyer of our house
that was way too big for just the three of us, but, you know, appearances and all, and that familiar pang in my chest shook my mental state like it always did.

  Mom was going out of town on another psychiatric convention or whatever.

  And that meant Dad was going to feed his demons and I was going to have to either watch or find somewhere else to stay for the weekend.

  It was a no-brainer. I always stayed at Chance’s when I could.

  “Oh, Gage, honey,” my mom rushed out as she came out of the living room and into the foyer. “I’m so glad football practice didn’t run over. I was hoping to see you before I left.”

  I hitched my backpack up higher on my shoulder and raked my eyes over her luggage. “What’s all this?”

  She shook her head and her face looked like it held the weight of the world on it. “I have an emergency in Toledo,” she replied. “A patient of mine was visiting family and, I’m still not sure what’s going on, but I got a call from one of their local hospitals claiming to have her on suicide watch.”

  I listened to my mother and it was hard to tap down the hate I had for my father in this moment. Oh, the hate I felt for him was continuous, but some days it was stronger than others. Maureen Evans was a devoted wife, mother, and doctor, and my father ignored all of that by being a selfish prick. Yeah, I might be a coward, but my cowardice came from a good place. There was nothing good about Quinten Evans.

  “How long will you be gone?”

  She glanced at her watch before looking at me and doing her best to place a comforting smile on her face. She knew I got...restless whenever she went away. “I’m going to do my best to be back by Monday, Gage,” she answered.

  It was only Thursday.

  I said the only thing I could think of. “I’m sorry to hear about your patient.”