Broken Dreams (Spiraling Book 2)

by H. L. Karhoff

  “Now, we have to figure out what you’re going to wear,” Maimy said.

  “I’m sure I have something,” I replied.

  “Not like this, I hope.” She waved her hand in a circle indicating my outfit.

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I looked down at my white blouse and light-pink skirt.

  Maimy wrinkled her nose. “Do you own clothes that aren’t pink?” Her tone matched the disgust on her face.

  “Yes.”

  “Like what?” She looked at me with obvious disbelief. “That ugly Rainbow Brite sweater?”

  “I like that sweater. It’s comfy.” I folded my arms across my chest and slouched, feeling attacked. I liked my clothes. They were cute, stylish, and showed enough skin to get boys’ attention without being slutty.

  “We seriously need to work on your wardrobe,” she said. “The pink plaid screams goody-goody virgin.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  My eyes swept Maimy’s outfit: purple bra straps showing under a black top and hip huggers riding low enough to see the top of her panties in the back when she bent over. She left little to the imagination. At least I don’t look like I’m open for business.

  Maimy cocked her eyebrow. “Well, you’re not, right? I mean, you and Devon . . .” She made a circle with the forefinger and thumb of one hand. Then she poked the index finger of her other hand through it several times.

  I blushed. “That’s personal, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. Dev’s amazing in the sack.”

  “You slept with Devon?” I shifted my weight.

  “It was before he was with you,” she said. “Jake and I were fighting, and Devon was there, so you know. It wasn’t like it meant anything.”

  My stomach twisted. It didn’t surprise me that Devon slept with Maimy. Several girls at our school could make the same boast. I knew he got around, but I didn’t want to know the details of his encounters. Inhaling, I focused on my lunch tray. We sat in uncomfortable silence until Maimy touched my hand. When I turned to her, she smiled.

  “We should go to Beaumont after school,” Maimy said. “Claire just got her car fixed and there’s this new store in the mall I want to check out.”

  I wrinkled my nose at the mention of Claire. “No, thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.” She shrugged.

  As if summoned, Claire sat next to Maimy. She picked up a wheat roll from her tray, tore off a piece, and put it in her mouth. “Ugh.” She curled her upper lip in disgust as she dropped the rest of the roll. “How do they expect us to eat this shit? It tastes like cardboard.”

  “That’s why I bring my lunch,” Maimy said.

  “There’s no food at my house,” Claire replied. “Mom’s in Florida, and Richie spent the cash she left on smack.”

  Maimy stole the discarded roll from Claire’s tray. “You should crash at my house until she gets back.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” Maimy nodded. “Mom won’t care. She loves you.”

  “Thanks.” Claire moved the tray out of the way, folded her arms on the table, and laid her head in the crook of her elbow.

  “Still feel like shit?” Maimy asked.

  “Yep.” Claire straightened. “And now my freaking tits hurt.” She rubbed her breasts.

  I discreetly rolled my eyes. It might help if you wore a bra that fit. Her tight underwire bra barely covered her nipples, making her appear to have four semicircular-shaped breasts. The top set bulged out of her tight camisole.

  “You probably caught whatever Lexie has,” Maimy said. “She’s been puking her guts out all week.”

  “Probably,” Claire grumbled.

  I settled back against the booth seat. Maimy and I got along all right, but I hated Claire. Everything about her bothered me: her voice, her bright red lipstick, her fake burgundy hair, her spicy perfume, her cheap spray tan . . . I scanned the lunchroom, hoping to find an excuse to leave the table. Beside me, Claire told Maimy about the boy she’d made out with the preceding weekend. From her description, it sounded like it had been worse than my first date with Devon.

  Almost anything that could go wrong that night did: Devon was late, the car he borrowed broke down, he got irritated at me for being an airhead, and my feet hurt from walking everywhere. It was still a great night, though. After dinner, Devon fixed the car, drove me home, and gave me an amazing kiss goodnight. Claire’s date, on the other hand, did not have a happy ending.

  “What about you, Princess?”

  I turned to see the girls staring at me.

  “What was your worst?” Claire asked.

  “Um.” I squirmed, not sure what they meant.

  “Come on.” Maimy lightly slapped my hand on the table.

  I pulled my hand into my lap.

  “What’s wrong, Princess?” Claire chuckled. “Are we making you uncomfortable?”

  “No.” Yes.

  “So, tell us. What's the worst sex you ever had?” Claire leaned forward, a mocking smirk drawing up the side of her mouth.

  Oh. That’s what they mean. “Well, um …” I don’t want to talk about this. It’s too weird. They’ve both had sex with Devon. He’s the only guy I’ve been with so anything I say is going to be about him. If I tell them anything, they could use it as a reason to talk about bad sex they had with Devon. That’s the last thing I want to hear.

  “I’m not sure.” My voice wavered.

  Maimy squinted. Her gaze fixed as if she were conducting an interrogation. Then her eyes widened. “Don’t tell me. Is Devon the only guy you’ve fucked?”

  Heat flooded my cheeks.

  “That explains why you’re so obsessed with him,” Claire said.

  “I know.” Maimy looked at her friend. “I was like, ‘Why is this girl so stuck on a guy that isn’t even around anymore?’ Now it makes sense.”

  “Lame.” Claire rolled her eyes.

  “He’s coming back,” I said.

  “Sure.” Maimy nodded, though her tone told me she didn’t believe he would.

  “He’s coming back,” I repeated, trying to stop my voice from cracking.

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath.” Claire snarled. “Even if he does come back, who’s to say he’ll want to be with you?”

  My gaze dropped. I folded my hands between my knees, shifted my weight, and blinked to stop myself from crying. The biggest reason I hated Claire was her history with Devon. He claimed she had never been his girlfriend. She claimed otherwise. I wanted to believe him, but her version seemed closer to the truth.

  “God, Claire.” Maimy sounded irritated. “Could you be any more of a bitch?”

  “So, I’m a bitch for telling the truth?” Claire scoffed. “She needs to stop fooling herself.” I felt Claire’s gaze even though I didn’t look up. “Just because a guy sleeps with you doesn’t mean he wants to get back together. All it means is he was horny and you’re an easy lay.”

  I got up and walked away. What if she’s right? Maybe he doesn’t love me. I could be waiting for a guy that doesn’t even want me anymore.

  Five

  Ruckus was aptly named. It was a dance club in Beaumont and the music was so loud, I could hear it through two sets of glass doors. As I walked in beside Maimy, I felt claustrophobic. People packed the large building and smoke thickened the air.

  “Come with me.” Maimy grabbed my arm and dragged me into a dirty bathroom. It reeked of bodily fluids. She scrubbed the fresh ink stamp saying I was under eighteen off the back of my hand. “If you wash it off as soon as you get here, it comes off better. Then they won’t make you leave at midnight.”

  “I doubt anybody will believe I’m eighteen,” I said.

  “Unless you try to buy alcohol, they don’t card you again once you get in the door,” she replied. “If there’s no stamp, they won’t say anything.”

  As soon as she finished with my hand, she washed the ink from her own, then checked her bleached-blonde hair in the mirror b
efore dragging me back into the crowd. The smell of body odor mixed with alcohol filled my nostrils, and I fought the urge to pinch my nose.

  Why did I want to come here? I asked myself.

  “Let’s find Jake and the guys,” Maimy yelled over the music.

  “Do you see them anywhere?”

  “What?”

  “Do you see them anywhere?” I repeated louder.

  “I think they’re over there.” She pointed across the crowded room to a raised area with pool tables. “That’s where . . . usually . . . out.”

  She kept talking, but I couldn’t hear most of what she said. I glanced around the large room. At one time, it had been a warehouse. The exposed brick still showed on the walls. In the center of the room, the cement floor had been covered or replaced with wood to create a dance floor surrounded by a metal fence with openings for people to come and go. Lights flashed above the dance floor in a variety of colors, blinking off and on in time with the music. I watched them for a few minutes before I realized Maimy wasn’t holding onto my arm anymore.

  My eyes darted around the room. Where is she? People I didn’t know surrounded me.

  A guy with dark hair and green eyes said, “Hey there, jailbait. You want to dance?”

  “No, thanks.” I shook my head.

  “You lost, little girl?” Another man asked.

  “I’m trying to find my friend,” I answered.

  “I’ll be your friend.” An attractive guy put his arm around me.

  “No, thanks. I have enough friends.” I ducked out of his embrace.

  I dashed between groups of people, searching for Maimy, and remembered that she’d pointed to a raised section on the other side of the room. I couldn’t locate that either. My heart rate escalated. On all fronts, walls of people surrounded me. I couldn’t see over them, even in the four-inch heels Maimy convinced me to wear.

  Pushing through the crowd, I made my way back to the bathrooms. It wasn’t the right direction, but at least I had room to breathe. I stood on a chair with my back to the wall and searched the room. From my raised vantage point, I spotted the pool tables. I merely needed to figure out how to get there without getting disoriented in the crowd again.

  “Carter!” I almost tumbled from the chair when the short nerd came in the door with his brother, Chase, and another boy. Stepping off my perch, I scrambled through the thinner crowd by the wall. “Carter!”

  He stopped and turned toward me. “Tori?”

  “You have no idea how glad I am to see you,” I said, flinging my arms around him before I realized what I was doing.

  “Um . . . Tori.” He cleared his throat.

  I released him and stepped back. “Sorry. I’m just happy to find someone I recognize. I lost Maimy and I’ve been wandering around by myself and—”

  “It’s okay.” He straightened his back.

  “Hey, Carter,” the guy that accompanied Carter and Chase said. He had messy black hair and a silver stud running through his right eyebrow. “Is this your girl?”

  “No.” Carter shook his head a little too adamantly. It hurt my feelings. His reaction came off like he thought he was too good for me.

  “I knew you didn’t have a girlfriend, twerp.” The boy chuckled.

  “She’s my girlfriend’s cousin,” Carter said.

  I looked at Carter with a huge grin. “I didn’t know you and Joy were going out.”

  “Yeah.” Carter’s cheeks blushed as he nodded.

  “That’s great.”

  “So, what’s up with you?” The guy with the studded eyebrow nodded at me.

  “She’s Dev’s girl,” Carter said before I had the chance to respond.

  Am I? I bit my lip and made a mental note to question Carter about his assertion when we weren’t in a noisy room surrounded by people.

  “Too bad.” Carter’s friend smirked and raised his studded eyebrow before losing interest in me. He turned to Chase. The two of them disappeared into the crowd.

  Carter walked away, too. I rushed after him, grabbing his arm, and he looked at me.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “I . . .” I swept the crowd with my eyes. “Don’t ditch me. I . . . um . . .” I wanted to tell him the truth, but I didn’t want to look like a complete loser, even in front of Carter.

  He sighed. “Fine. Come on.”

  Holding his wrist, I followed him through the crowd to the steps of the raised area. A short cement wall covered in graffiti separated it from the rest of the room. I admired the artwork. Along with various names and other words, there were zombie children and gravestones.

  Carter pulled out of my grasp. He didn’t care about the artwork or the building’s architecture. I turned away from the graffiti and followed him up the stairs. When I got to the top, I stopped. It was like a smoky cave with a short ceiling and gray walls. Aside from neon advertisements, the only lights in the room hung over the pool tables.

  As I looked around, I found Maimy. She leaned over a table with a pool cue in her hands. I watched as she pushed it into a white ball, sending the ball across the green felt into a yellow ball which bounced off the side and rolled to a stop. Jake patted her on the rear and smiled before he took the pool cue from her hands and walked to the end of the table.

  I slipped past a group of girls gathered beside the nearest table and made my way toward Maimy and the others. Jeremiah stood on one end of the table with Marshal, a boy I’d only met once at Jeremiah’s house. Next to them, Lexie Bruce and another girl leaned against a counter-height bistro table. They drank what appeared to be soda from short, clear plastic cups.

  Not sure where to stand, I crawled onto a bar stool at a bistro table across the room from the one Lexie and the girl occupied. Lexie and Claire were close which meant Lexie and I were not. To say she hated me would have been an understatement. She loathed my existence. In school, she made rude remarks or “bumped” into me, sending my books across the floor. I wasn’t sure what she or the other girl would do without adult supervision, so I kept my distance.

  “Hey, Princess,” Jeremiah said. He had just stepped up to the pool table and grabbed the cue from Maimy when he spotted me. “I didn’t know you were here.” Changing his mind, he gave the cue to Marshal and said, “I’ll take the next game,” before he approached me. “What are you doing over here by yourself?”

  “Watching,” I answered.

  “You look good.” His eyes swept over me, pausing at my chest.

  “Thanks.” I turned away, my cheeks warming. I shouldn’t have let Maimy talk me into this outfit. I adjusted the neckline of the too-tight camisole to cover more cleavage.

  Jeremiah put his arm around my shoulders. “Come on over here with us.”

  I slid off the stool, adjusting my skirt as I allowed him to lead me to the side of the pool table.

  “Hi.” Marshal greeted my boobs. He was an average-sized boy with short, dirty-blond hair and gray eyes. Judging from his confident smirk, I guessed he also had an overinflated ego.

  “You know Marshal, don’t you, Princess?” Jeremiah asked.

  “We’ve met,” I answered.

  “We have?” Marshal raised his eyes from my breasts to look at my face.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “The night Jeremiah had that bonfire.”

  Marshal squinted. “Oh, yeah. You’re um . . . um . . .”

  “I’m Tori,” I said.

  “That’s it,” Marshal replied. “Sorry, babe. I’m terrible with names.”

  “It’s okay.”

  I turned to watch the billiard ball Jake hit roll across the table. Something about Marshal didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t want to talk to him any longer. Luckily, he went back to playing pool with Jake.

  “What’s up with him?” I asked Jeremiah.

  “Who? Marsh?” Jeremiah glanced at the lanky blond boy.

  “Yeah.”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “He doesn’t go to our school, does he?”

&n
bsp; “No.” Jeremiah shook his head. “He dropped out last year.”

  “Oh.”

  As soon as the game was over, Marshal returned.

  “Your turn, tiny.” Marshal gave Jeremiah the pool cue.

  “Thanks, man.” Jeremiah dropped his arm from my shoulders and walked to the end of the table.

  Marshal looked at me with the same egotistical smirk he had before. “You want something to drink, babe?”

  “No, thanks.” I shook my head.

  “You want to dance?”

  I shook my head again.

  “All right,” he said. “What do you want to do?”

  “I’m fine,” I replied, getting annoyed.

  “Come on, babe. There’s got to be—”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Stop calling me ‘babe.’ I’m not a freaking pig and I’ve never played baseball. My name is Tori. If you can’t use it, don’t talk to me.”

  The area erupted with laughter. I hadn’t realized how loud I’d spoken until I looked around and saw people I didn’t know staring. My cheeks blushed, and then I realized that they weren’t laughing at me. They were all laughing at Marshal. He scowled at me before he walked over to bother Lexie and her friend.

  Jeremiah smiled and winked at me. I wasn’t sure why, but his approval warmed my heart. As he leaned over the table to take a shot, I noticed that he wasn’t as brutish as I’d always thought. In his own way, he was a good-looking guy. He had adorable dimples and his short, dark brown hair had a soft curl to it that swept in around his face like a cherub.

  He’s not bad, I thought. And he’s been nice. I dropped my eyes and shook my head. Stop it, Tori. If Devon were here, you wouldn’t look twice at Jeremiah. Or any of these guys. But he’s not here, is he? No. He’s not. He’s in jail and I’m alone. Like always.

  And it’s not like we’re together. At least, I don’t know if we are. Carter told that guy we were, but he’s about as clueless as I am so that doesn’t mean much. Like Claire said, Devon might not even come back or want me when he does. I could wait forever for something that never happens.

  I stood beside the pool table until my feet hurt. As I stepped away to take a seat, Jeremiah caught me.