Broken Dreams (Spiraling Book 2)

by H. L. Karhoff

  “Sounds cool.” Lisa grinned.

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  “Is that what you’re going to paint?”

  I looked at my sketchpad. Before Lisa interrupted me all I’d done was the rough outline of a male figure. He was thin, but muscular, and held the ring in his left palm. There was no background or real definition to the sketch.

  “Maybe.” I shrugged.

  “Can I see your other drawings?”

  “Sure.”

  I flipped to a page I didn’t mind showing. Lisa leaned closer, picked up the sketchpad, and stared at it. When she continued to the next page, I reached for the pad. “Sorry. There’s stuff I don’t want people to see in there.”

  “Why not?” She switched to another page. “This is cool.”

  Lisa turned the pad around to show me what she meant. It was a sketch of the tattoo on Devon’s left bicep: an eagle tangled in thorny vines, screaming in agony. I’d drawn it after our first date with the taste of his kiss still fresh on my lips and a world of possibilities running through my mind.

  Tristan Murray glanced over from the desk in front of mine. “Wow.” Her mouth gaped. “Did you draw that, Tori?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded, taking my sketchpad away from Lisa before she could show it to the entire class.

  “That’s awesome.” Tristan twisted in her seat, so she could see better. “I didn’t know you could draw.”

  I wanted to say there were several things she didn’t know, but decided it was best not to antagonize Tristan. She was tall, athletic, and popular. The opposite of me. I was short, chunky by media standards, and, after punching Kennedy Phillips in the face, not well liked among my classmates. I closed the sketchpad, folded my arms over it on my desk, and looked at Mr. Chambers.

  He had given up on controlling the class and sat at Mrs. White’s desk. With an open newspaper between himself and the class, he pretended not to notice the shenanigans taking place around him.

  When the bell rang, the noise level escalated. Mr. Chambers watched with relief as students poured out of the classroom. I waited until the bottleneck cleared before slipping into the crowded hall. Being an outcast meant if I didn’t catch Joy after class, I had to make the trek back to the freshman hall by myself. It was then I felt truly alone. Without distraction, I heard the hushed voices and snickers from people I’d once called friends.

  I kept my head down and my books hugged to my chest as I navigated the throng of people congregating in the commons. To my right, a group of nerds argued over mathematical theory. To my left, I heard Jeremiah’s thunderous laugh and Maimy’s angry screech.

  “Give it back!” Maimy yelled.

  “Hell no.” Jeremiah held something over his head encased in his fist. “It’s mine now.”

  “Jake, do something.”

  Although I couldn’t see Maimy, I knew the look on her face too well. I also knew Jake cringed at the sight of it and turned into a spineless whelp. I pictured him trying to retrieve whatever Jeremiah had with no success as Maimy insulted his masculinity. They would get into a fight and when I saw Maimy later, she would insist she hated him more than anyone else in the world.

  I pushed through the crowd until I stood beside the vending machine. A huge grin adorned Jeremiah’s face. Maimy jumped with her arm extended, trying to grab whatever Jeremiah held in his fist.

  “I’ll buy you another one,” Jake said.

  “Or you could just grow a pair and make him give it back.” Maimy glared at her boyfriend.

  Jake looked at Jeremiah, jaw tight and brow drawn. “Give it back, man.”

  “Make me,” Jeremiah retorted.

  “You’re being a douche bag, dude,” Jake said.

  I moved closer, took a deep breath, and looked up at the giant boy. “Can I have it?” I held out my hand.

  Jeremiah’s gaze shifted from Jake to me, and his grin turned from maniacal to flirtatious.

  “Please.” I batted my eyelashes.

  “Sure thing, Princess.” He dropped a lighter into my palm.

  Wrapped in black leather with a silver cross on the side, it reminded me of the silver lighter Devon always carried. While Devon's looked old, marred with dents and scratches, the one in my hand appeared brand new.

  “Thank you.” I smiled. What am I doing? I shouldn’t be flirting with him. “Here you go.” I handed the lighter to Maimy.

  “What?” Jeremiah’s expression dropped.

  “Ha!” Maimy scoffed at Jeremiah before turning on her heels and stomping away.

  I didn’t linger. Adjusting my books, I rushed toward the freshman hall and Devon’s locker. “Awkward conversation in the commons” was not on my to-do list.

  “Hey, Tori.” Kennedy’s voice made me jump.

  I turned toward her, wondering why she wanted my attention. “Hi?”

  “Are you going to the end of the year dance?” she asked.

  “No.” I shook my head. Why do people keep asking me that?

  “Oh.” Her shoulders drooped, and she frowned.

  “Why?”

  “I . . .” She glanced around the small hallway to see if anyone was watching. “I thought we could hang out afterward. The way we used to in middle school.”

  “No, thanks.” I rolled my eyes as I turned back to Devon’s locker.

  “I miss you.”

  The sincerity in her voice caught me off guard. I wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “Camber and Miranda are snobs,” she said. “They talk down to me because I’m not as pretty as they are.”

  “Whatever. Camber looks like what happens when a crack whore screws a clown.” I’d heard Maimy say the same thing once, but it didn’t sound as cool when it came out of my mouth.

  Kennedy laughed anyway. “Thanks, Tori.”

  The air between us felt lighter than it had in months as I turned the combination lock on Devon’s locker door. After I’d opened it, I turned to her again.

  “So, how are you and Jason?” I asked.

  She dropped her eyes. “We got in a fight earlier. He said I’m trying to control him.”

  “You are bossy.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “I try not to be. It’s just Camber and Miranda make fun of me because they think Jason’s a total dork and I want them to see he’s not, but he keeps doing dorky stuff.”

  “Of course, he does.” I chuckled. “He’s Jason.”

  “And I used to love that stuff, but now . . .” She looked at the floor before raising her eyes. “I’m sorry, Tori. I’m unloading all this on you, and you couldn’t care less.”

  “It’s okay.” I feigned a soft smile. “Hope everything works out for you.”

  I turned back to Devon’s locker and set my books on top of his. Out of Kennedy’s view, my fake smile turned to a real one as I gloated to myself. Kennedy had gotten her comeuppance. She’d tried to fool me into feeling sorry for her, but I didn’t fall for it.

  Screw that.

  Scanning my books, I debated whether to take any home. I didn’t have homework, but I had finals in two days. Even though Carter had ditched me for some unknown errand, I could study by myself. Nope. I shook my head. It was the first free evening I’d had since spring break. I needed a reprieve from everything related to school.

  As I reached into the locker to retrieve my bag, a muscular arm slid around my waist. A boy’s hand rested on my stomach with rough fingers rubbing my exposed midriff in a way that assumed intimacy. My first thoughts went to Jeremiah. Crap. I knew I shouldn’t have flirted with him.

  Warm breath brushed my cheek. It smelled of spearmint gum with a hint of tobacco. Coarse stubble followed. Alarms went off in my head. It wasn’t Jeremiah. He was always clean-shaven, even late in the evening. I was about to freak out. Then a soft voice both calmed and excited me.

  “Did you miss me?”

  Eight

  I twirled around like a ballerina in the arms of a danseur. As I looked up at Devon’s face, I had trouble containing myself
. He was every bit as gorgeous as I remembered: high, soft cheekbones, brilliant deep blue eyes, dark blond stubble adorning the gentle curve of his jaw, and kissable pink lips. The only thing different was his hair. It was a lot shorter and darker than his usual ash-blond. I wasn’t sure if I liked it. When he gazed down at me, it was strange to see his eyes unobstructed by his hair.

  “You cut your hair,” I said, running my fingers above his left ear.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “What do you think?”

  “I hate it.”

  “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.” He chuckled.

  “I like it,” Kennedy said.

  Devon and I both looked at her.

  What the hell, Kenn? Can you not see we’re having a moment?

  “I think it looks nice,” she added with a polite smile neither Devon nor I expected. “It’s nice to see you again, Devon.”

  “I’d say the say the same, but . . .” Devon’s expression balanced between confusion and hatred.

  Kennedy dropped her eyes. “Sorry about what I said. I didn’t realize you were listening, or I wouldn’t have said it.”

  Seriously?

  Devon glared at her. From his drawn brow and tight jaw, I knew she was trying his patience. If she had known him better, she would have left it alone, but she didn’t know him.

  “I never wanted to come between you and Tori.” She continued trying to dig out of the hole she’d made for herself, sinking deeper with every syllable. “All I said was that she was spending a lot of time with Carter and it seemed like they were getting close.” She looked at me. “You were spending a lot of time with Carter. You would have thought the same thing. I mean, you guys are—”

  “You don’t know when to shut up, do you?” Devon growled.

  Kennedy’s mouth clasped shut, and she stared at Devon with wide eyes.

  “You’re constantly yap, yap, yap, like someone wants to listen to your shit,” Devon scolded. “Just shut the fuck up.”

  Kennedy’s lip quivered as if she were about to cry. She shut her locker and scurried away like a frightened field mouse.

  Devon turned back with a soft smile. He pulled me into his chest and rested his chin on top of my head. I wrapped my arms around his waist, nestling into him. He was always warm and usually smelled amazing. Right then, he reeked of sweat, curry, and another spice I didn't recognize. It was offensive to my nostrils.

  I held onto him anyway. For two months, I’d dreamed of his arms around me. I wouldn’t let go because he stank.

  He kissed the top of my head. “Ready to get out of here?”

  “Almost.” I turned around, grabbed my bag, and kicked Devon’s locker door to shut it.

  “Did your locker break again?” he asked.

  “Nope.” I shook my head. “I like yours better.”

  A knowing smile tugged at the side of his mouth. He took my bag, slipping it onto his shoulder. I stifled a giggle. As many times as he’d carried it, he still looked silly with a pink backpack. It didn’t match the black T-shirt, tattered baggy blue jeans, and black combat boots he wore.

  Before we walked out of the side hall, I looped my arm around his. I was so giddy it took energy not to skip. The awkward stares and whispers from those we passed didn’t bother me. I didn't care what the snobs thought of me or Devon at that moment. But I did care what Devon’s friends thought and, more so, what they said. When Jake and Jeremiah spotted us from beside the soda machine, I hoped they’d only wave, but they didn’t. I cringed as they both walked toward us.

  “Hey, man.” Jake spoke first. “How’ve you been?”

  “All right,” Devon answered. “You?”

  “About the same,” Jake replied.

  “Hey.” Jeremiah nodded at Devon, then looked at me. “How you doing, Princess?”

  “I’m good.” I hugged Devon’s arm tighter.

  Jeremiah glanced at Devon before giving me a quick nod and walking away. I felt bad for having led him on only to give him the cold shoulder, but I didn't want to be vague about my intentions. What happened was a mistake. I was lonely. It meant nothing.

  “What was that about?” Devon asked.

  “No idea.” I shrugged.

  Jake looked at me and my stomach turned inside out. I dropped my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t say anything. Although I was certain he and Maimy were in his room before anything started with Jeremiah, I wasn't certain how much he’d seen or heard.

  “Beats me,” Jake said. “He’s a moody bastard lately.”

  Relief eased my nerves. I smiled at Jake, a silent “thank you” in my eyes.

  The three of us walked to the double doors at the end of the hall. Jake and Devon talked about cars, a topic about which I knew nothing. “Alternator” and “fuel injection” had no meaning in my mind. I only listened well enough to hear them talking without trying to decipher the words.

  Once outside, we stood under the awning by the doors while Devon and Jake finished their conversation. The sun had been out all day, but the air still held the chill of rain especially in the shade; goosebumps raised the skin on my arms. I slipped behind Devon and unzipped my bag to retrieve my sweater.

  Devon looked at me as I pulled on the knit cardigan. “Are you cold?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  “We can go.”

  “I’m okay.” I smiled.

  It wasn’t the usual offhanded remark to avoid further discussion. I was truly, perfectly fine. It didn’t matter where we were or that I was cold. We could have been in the ninth circle of hell. It wouldn’t have mattered. Devon had returned, we were together, and the sun shone in the sky. Life was good.

  “I missed you.” Devon kissed the side of my neck, his breath heavy from exertion.

  “I could tell.” I giggled.

  He nuzzled my ear before kissing the side of my neck again. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  I ran my fingers through his hair. His breath slowed, and his full weight bore down on me. Jesus Christ, he’s heavy. I patted his shoulder and asked him to move, but he only snored in response.

  “Seriously?” I exhaled. “You’re asleep?” I tried to push him off me, but I couldn’t move him. “Devon, get off me. You’re squishing me.” I smacked his shoulder harder. “Devon. Devon, move.”

  I couldn’t get enough air. His weight felt like an anvil on my chest. When I tried to take a deep breath, my ribs restricted my lungs. Panic set in. I frantically pushed and swatted at him.

  “Devon, wake up,” I cried.

  He snored in my ear. I searched my brain for an escape plan—the fear of being smothered real in my mind.

  I could rack him. If I wiggled enough, I could . . . No. I don’t want to hurt him. I want him to get off me.

  I looked at his face. He was beautiful—like the male version of a Da Vinci angel. Even the sound of his snore was adorable. I hated to disturb his peace, but if I didn’t, he would unintentionally suffocate me. Then I had an idea. I bit his nose.

  His eyes popped open, and he jerked back. “What the fuck?”

  “You’re crushing me.” I panted, pushing his shoulder. “I can’t breathe.”

  His brow furrowed, and he rolled off me. I gasped for air, thankful for the ability to expand my lungs again. Devon sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes darted around the room. He pondered the door, then moved on to the accessible window. The room had two, but a large desk blocked the one closer to the bed.

  I sat up and watched him. He didn’t appear to register his surroundings. When his eyes passed over me, it was if he looked right through me. I touched his arm, hoping to bring him back to reality. I thought he hadn’t woken up all the way.

  The second my fingers touched his skin, his arm jerked, and he pushed me back. He spun to face me with his right hand raised in a fist. Before acting out his impulse, he stopped and stared at me, his ragged breath causing his shoulders to rise and fall. His deep blue eyes held no hint of recognition.
They gave me shivers. I wanted to cower, but I forced myself to speak.

  “Devon,” I whispered. “It’s me. Tori. Are . . . Are you okay?”

  He blinked. As he registered where he was and who was in front of him, his jaw relaxed, and his breathing slowed. Worry replaced the chill in his eyes. “Oh shit, Tori, I . . .” He reached for me and I shied away. He hesitated for a moment before he pulled his hand back. “I’m sorry.”

  I wanted to tell him I understood, but I didn’t. So, I sat watching him, waiting to see what he’d do next. I didn’t think he’d hurt me, but I also knew he could easily do so. He had at least sixty pounds and eight inches on me in size.

  His eyes searched my face. “You’re scared.”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Yes, you are.”

  I forced myself to touch his hand, doing my best to stay steady. “Devon, I’m not . . . I’m not afraid of you.”

  We both knew it was a lie.

  “You should get dressed and have Carter take you home,” he said as he averted his eyes, the shame of his actions written across his face. “I don’t think it’s the best idea for you to be around me right now.”

  I didn’t argue. Sliding out of the bed, I pulled on my clothes and left the room.

  Nine

  I leaned against the car door, hugged my legs to my chest, and stared out the window as Carter drove down the gravel road leading back into town. On the edge of my peripheral vision, I could see him glancing at me every few seconds.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Did Dev hurt you?” Carter’s jaw tightened.

  “No.” I sniffled, using the back of my hand to wipe my nose.

  “Tori, if he hurt you—” His knuckles whitened from his grip on the steering wheel, and his voice was strained as if he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

  “He didn’t hurt me, Carter.” I hugged my knees tighter.

  “Then what happened?” His tone was severe, demanding.

  I turned to the window. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Carter was quiet for a few minutes before he took a deep breath. I braced myself.