Broken: A YA Paranormal Romance Novel (Volume 1 of the Reflections Books)

by Dean Murray

  Part of me acknowledged how petty it was, but I avoided her attempts at a whispered conversation during class. Mr. Whethers unknowingly helped my cause, when he crossly silenced a couple of girls on the far side of the classroom. He was normally so even-tempered that even his moderate rebuke instantly shut them up. I probably shouldn't have felt quite so happy about it, but I was pretty sure from the way they'd been looking at me that I'd been the source of their gossip.

  When the bell finally released us, I couldn't avoid Britney any longer.

  "Adri...ana, why didn't you tell me?"

  I didn't answer for several seconds, not sure I'd actually heard her right. "Tell you what?"

  "Fine, play coy. I just think you should know it's pretty lame for me to find all that stuff out second hand. We're best friends; you should totally have trusted me enough to tell me."

  Apparently I'd only thought the anger was under control. It frothed beneath the surface right now, anxious for a reason to bite someone's head off, and Britney was the preferred target. Only I needed her. Not enough to completely dismiss what had happened though.

  "I don't know what you're talking about, but I honestly wouldn't have told you anything I wanted kept a secret. Not after the way you told everyone about my panic attacks."

  Britney looked like she was having a hard time getting enough air. She gasped a couple more times, and then managed to get some words out. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you'd care. I thought it would be okay."

  I pinned her in place with my eyes for several seconds to prove I didn't believe her, and then shrugged. "I don't suppose it matters all that much. I just know now that I can't trust you with those kinds of things."

  Mrs. Campbell's class served as another safe haven. There were still plenty of looks, but nobody dared gossip, and Britney was safely seated on the other side of the room. I took a little bit of sick satisfaction over the fact that everyone else was frantic about our test tomorrow. I actually couldn't have been happier. This was the first section where I'd been in a position to sit for the exam with everyone else.

  Our lecture essentially consisted of an extended review, which I quickly realized I didn't need. I broke out my book and started in on one of my catch-up assignments instead. At the rate I was going I'd be able to take my makeup exam way ahead of schedule. It was a pretty lame thing to be excited about, but just having something going well for a change helped compensate for the rest of my life.

  Amazingly enough, the satisfaction from having accomplished so much shielded me for most of the rest of the day. I withstood Britney's varied, mostly unsubtle, attempts to make me feel guilty for not spilling my guts about whatever big secret she thought I had, and even held up through the complete boredom that was Mr. Simms' class. It wasn't until I walked into Physics that I felt the cold hand of reality reach out and caress the back of my neck.

  Alec was uncharacteristically early, already sitting at his normal desk. He looked up and briefly met my eyes when I reached my desk, but there wasn't even a trace of acknowledgment in his gaze. Mrs. Alexander started class, reviewed a couple of points that other groups needed clarified, and then released us to work on our assignments.

  I waited several seconds for Alec to make some kind of move, and then with a flash of anger stood and carried my things over to the desk next to his. I nearly jumped when he opened his mouth.

  "You'll want to review page 89. It contains most of the relevant formulas. We'll need to know exactly how they work. We'll be given an unknown weight, an unknown number of pulleys, and expected to move it all with the most efficient arrangement possible."

  It almost didn't seem like he was talking to me. There was no emotion in his voice, no gentle teasing; he didn't even meet my eyes. I sat down with a slight hope that he'd thaw out a little by the time class ended, only to shake my head in disbelief when the bell finally rang and proved me irrevocably wrong.

  Maybe he'd go back to normal after a few days. There really wasn't any way to know though. I didn't even know what'd brought on the sudden change. Was he really just angry I'd overheard Jasmin threaten Lucy? Why did I even care?

  Spanish dragged by at a snail's pace, but somehow before I knew it, I was walking with Britney towards the tutor lab. I should have been surprised when we rounded a corner to find Brandon casually leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for us, for me.

  "You still okay to go home with Brit today?"

  He acted like it was all my choice. It gave me goose bumps. Britney almost tripped over herself assuring Brandon that we were still the best of friends, and she wouldn't even think of leaving me without a ride. Obviously if it wasn't convenient for him to take me, she would love to make sure I got home okay.

  Brandon's face remained serious through Britney's torrent of words, but he winked at me when she looked down to catch her breath.

  "Perfect. I'll go take care of some stuff then. You two enjoy all of that math, and I'll see you tomorrow morning. Maybe you'll even wait for me at your house this time."

  It unsettled me a little that such a simple statement could cause industrial-sized butterflies to spontaneously appear in my stomach, so I tried to push the thought out of my mind. I hesitantly returned Rachel's tentative smile, and then dug into my homework.

  Mrs. Campbell stopped by for a few minutes, obviously checking to make sure that I was over my aberrant behavior from yesterday. I got the feeling she would've liked to chat for a bit longer, but we had the predictable surge in attendance given the coming test.

  I gave her my best reassuring smile as she left, and then watched as she and the other tutors all bounced from one student to the next answering questions. As much as I would have liked to just call it a day, another good effort added to what I'd done earlier would put me two or maybe even three days ahead of my personal schedule.

  With a sigh of resignation I found my place on the page again, and started sorting out another set of variables. Forty-five minutes later I'd nearly completed another two sections, and was more than ready for a breather.

  Sometime while I'd been studying, most of the kids had left. I hadn't expected all of them to stay until my shift started, but I'd expected more than the two or three I usually had. Only it didn't look like that was going to be the case. Apparently most of them hadn't been serious about learning the material--they'd just wanted to come to the lab, make a half-hearted attempt, and then leave secure in the knowledge that if they failed the test they could whine to their parents about how hard they'd worked. But Mom, I even went to the lab.

  It sort of made sense though. If they'd been serious about acing the test, they'd have been here every night for the last two weeks instead of trying to cram a few more morsels of knowledge into their heads at the last minute.

  Mentally shrugging at the stupidity of it all, I pulled out my Spanish and studied my vocab for a few more minutes until Mrs. Campbell came by to wish me goodbye.

  "It looks like most everyone's gone again. The last few will probably leave in the next ten minutes." She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I actually prefer they do. That way when their parents phone in to complain about how poorly they did on the exam, I can point out that the lab was open for another hour, but they didn't bother to stick around for the extra help."

  It was a speech that made her sound like a grouchy old lady, but I was starting to know her well enough to take it in the proper context. She would gladly have done just about anything to help a student who really wanted to learn, but was tired of having students try and use her as an excuse for their own laziness.

  I waved goodbye to everyone as they left, and then made a quick round of the remaining students. Rachel and Britney were both in their accustomed places, Rachel studying away as always, and Britney making some weak efforts to do likewise. Two of the other three, a boy and a girl I recognized from second hour, but whose names I couldn't even begin to remember, were already packing their books into a pair of book bags, one of which was a fai
rly utilitarian item, the other of which probably cost as much as my whole wardrobe.

  I couldn't place the last boy for all that he looked really familiar. He had incredibly dark skin and features with a slight Middle Eastern cast. When he shifted in his seat, I realized he was built like a football player. Not like a lineman, but like a running back, or maybe a quarterback. He wasn't as big as Brandon, or even as Alec, but he was obviously well muscled, and he moved with an echo of their grace.

  None of which helped me figure out where I'd seen him before. He wasn't a regular at the tutor lab, and didn't have the hectic, desperate look of someone cramming for a test. Instead he looked completely at ease sitting in one of the no-man's-land tables with a pair of books open in front of him. By the looks of things he wasn't going to need any help.

  Once it was just the four of us, Britney waved me over and held up her homework. "I don't get it. What is the answer to this one?"

  I shook my head in exasperation. "Me telling you the answers won't help you on the test. If you have a specific question about how to work a problem I'd be more than happy to help you, but I'm not going to do your homework for you."

  Britney looked like she had all kinds of things that she'd like to say, but she showed more restraint that I'd realized she was capable of, and kept them all inside.

  "Please explain this one then."

  I ran through three different examples of the same problem before she got it, but thirty minutes later she was finally working on her homework for the first time I'd ever seen. I was surprised just how satisfying it was. Maybe I should become a teacher.

  Rachel caught my eye before I made it back to my table. She gave me another tentative smile as I slid into the seat next to her. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. I said all of the wrong things. It's just I'm not supposed to talk about what Alec says."

  Wow, he sounded like even more of a jerk than I'd expected. Talk about controlling. "It's okay Rachel. I'm sorry I overreacted at finding out my attacks were public knowledge. It was mostly meant for Britney."

  She cocked her head slightly to the side and looked at me with incredibly large blue eyes that seemed older than they had a few seconds before. "It really bothers you that everyone knows?"

  I shrugged uncomfortably. "I guess maybe it shouldn't, but it does. Nobody likes to be ridiculed, but it's even more than that. The attacks started up a couple of months ago. They...remind me of a really terrible thing that happened, so when people make a big deal out of them it's like it's all happening again."

  Rachel nodded slowly, her wonderfully expressive face full of sympathy. "I'm sorry to have pried like that. If I'd known it would make you feel bad, I wouldn't have asked."

  I tried to shrug indifferently, but she seemed to see through my pretenses. "I normally wouldn't have said anything, but knowing what I know now, I wouldn't want you to go through the next several days hurting inside because you think everyone looking at you out of the corner of their eye is ridiculing you."

  Confident she didn't really need help, and eager to avoid further reminders of just how broken I was, I'd been standing to return to my desk. The words were plenty foreboding, but they had an impact all out of proportion from what they should have. I sank back into the chair and turned towards Rachel. Not enough to actually make eye contact with her, just enough I hopefully didn't come off rude. Maybe the illusion of space would be enough to cushion me from whatever she was going to say next.

  Rachel waited a second, giving me a chance to say something before she proceeded. "You should know that someone released another rumor about you, about your attacks."

  My heart sank. I'd only thought things couldn't get any worse. Once everyone knew exactly why I was emotionally crippled they'd have even less sympathy. They'd pretend to feel sorry for me. They'd talk about how hard it must have been to suffer such a loss, but they wouldn't understand, wouldn't have the frame of reference to feel what I was feeling. They'd secretly talk about all of the people they knew who'd lost family members and been okay after a few weeks, or a couple of months. How even at their worst, those friends hadn't collapsed at the mention of their departed loved ones.

  My pulse was already almost twice as fast as normal, and the room was just starting to wobble from side to side. Rachel was saying something, but I couldn't really hear her. The void was gaping below me, when something grabbed my shoulder and shook me surprisingly hard.

  I opened my eyes to see Rachel looking at me. "I'm sorry I had to do that, Adriana, but you need to hear what I have to say."

  Half of me wanted to be angry, but the other half just wanted to collapse into the void. Force of habit won over anger and I passively let my defenses crumble, but apparently being shocked out of a collapse functioned much the same as having just come out of an attack. For the next few seconds at least I was safe, could think about anything I wanted without fear of the repercussions. Only Rachel was talking, ruining my concentration, so the only thing I could focus on was her words.

  "The rumor revolves around the fact that you tragically lost your boyfriend in a vicious car wreck."

  The immunity meant I hadn't expected the words to hurt, hadn't expected the flash of surprise that spiraled up from my center. The words were close to the truth, but not right somehow.

  "He was someone special, some of the rumors put him as some kind of model or actor, or maybe a semi-pro athlete. You'd been dating for two years, and were in the car with him when it happened. It was so devastating that you've had a hard time dealing with certain things since the accident. Being in cars that are driven too fast, mention of the wreck, other assorted things, and sometimes things nobody would expect trigger an attack."

  The words were striking into my mind with such force I almost forgot Rachel was whispering. None of it made sense, it had some things in common with the truth, but most of it was pure fabrication.

  "Why...I don't understand. Who would say that?"

  Rachel's face went from a mobile, beautiful thing to a near-perfect mask. Even in my befuddled state it was obvious she was lying.

  "I don't know, but you can use this. You're not being mocked or scorned anymore. True or not, that rumor is the most romantic thing anyone here has ever heard. It will transform you into a mini-celebrity overnight."

  The haze was starting to evaporate from my thoughts, the story still didn't make sense, but Rachel's explanation did.

  "The story's vague enough that nobody can really prove or disprove it. Don't get specific on any details, and you can ride this all the way until you graduate."

  The mask was gone, she wasn't lying anymore. She really believed this rumor would change everything for the better. It all made sense, but didn't explain who'd started it, or why they'd done it. Rachel's face told me she wouldn't answer either of those questions.

  I finally settled on one I thought she might answer. "Why are you telling me all this?"

  Rachel's face tried to take on her liar's mask, but didn't quite succeed. "You risked a lot to stop Cassie from hurting me. The least I can do is tell you anything I know that could save you from getting hurt in return."

  She was telling the truth. Not all of it, but at least some of it. I wanted to tell her she didn't owe me anything, but there were so many questions I needed answered still. There was some kind of weird power struggle going on, and her brother was right in the middle of it all, but I couldn't ask her about any of it. She'd already said as much as she was going to.

  I nodded my thanks, and went to stand again, but she captured my arm before I could complete the motion. "There are a lot of things I can't tell you, but anything you want to know about me is fair game. I'm sorry about all the rest."

  Something about the vulnerability in her eyes convinced me she really meant that. I added one more item to the list of reasons to hate her brother. Anyone who would be so controlling to someone like Rachel had already piled up all kinds of bad karma.

  "Fair enough. What's your favorite book that you've ne
ver read?"

  The question seemed to take her by surprise. "Um, Gone With the Wind. Probably because she doesn't necessarily start out as a bad person, but allows self-interest and events to carry her into terrible actions."

  I felt my eyes go wide. "That's a pretty detailed analysis of a book you've never read."

  Rachel blushed a little. "I really haven't read it. Maybe because I'm worried that it won't turn out to be what I think it will be. What about you?"

  I shouldn't have been surprised by the question, but I was. Possibly because I'd spent too much time around people like Britney who were so caught up in their own lives that they didn't really care about what was happening in mine.

  "Les Misérables. The music from the musical is so inspiring that I know the book must be truly wonderful."

  I let the statement hang in the air for a couple of seconds, and then finished up with the truth. "Of course I don't really know, because it's so big, and parts of it are so boring, that I may never manage to get through the whole thing."