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

by Dean Murray

  Chapter 14

  For the first time in longer than I could remember, I woke up two minutes before my alarm went off. I was showered, dressed, and ready to go ten minutes before normal, but after pulling my books together, I just sat down on the sofa.

  Today was the day. I hadn't consciously planned it when I went to bed, but circumstances were perfect. If I was wrong, Mom was not only home, judging by the noises filtering down the stairs, she was awake and only a few minutes away from coming downstairs.

  Even filled with the near certainty that Brandon's parents, and by extension him, were our secret benefactors, the next fifteen minutes were some of the longest in my life.

  When Brandon's Mustang finally appeared around the bend in the lane, I found myself smiling so hard my face was starting to hurt. Breathing silent but heartfelt thanks that Mom was in the shower and therefore couldn't hear the low rumble of the Mustang's engine, I slipped out the front door and skipped down the concrete steps.

  "I figured you were either too sick to get out of bed, or you finally decided to trust me." Brandon's gray eyes twinkled as he made a show of checking me over. "Looks like you're not sick."

  I didn't know it was possible to blush and smile at the same time. "Nope, not sick."

  After such a beginning, my day could hardly be anything but great. One class after another rolled by, and all of the things that normally would've bothered me just went whipping past without managing to stick.

  I couldn't remember the second phase of cell division in Biology. I'd forgotten to reread the last chapter of Wuthering Heights, and Britney went out of her way to snub me. The only thing I cared about was making it to lunch so I could see Brandon again.

  I dawdled on my way to Algebra, so much so I was nearly late for class. It wasn't until I sat down at my desk and felt a wave of disappointment slither through me that I realized I'd been hoping to see Brandon in between classes.

  Mrs. Campbell caught me before I could leave for lunch. "Adriana, your homework is progressing along very well. At the risk of having you slow down, I'm going to admit that you're well ahead of where I'd hoped you'd be. Another couple of weeks and you'll be caught up and ready for your makeup test."

  I shrugged uncomfortably. When teachers praised me, it always made me feel like I was socially deficient. I didn't necessarily mind the fact that I spent hours more on homework than any of my peers, but being praised for it always felt like a backhanded insult.

  "It's okay, I'm not going to slack off. I want to be done with extra assignments as badly as you want to be finished with having to grade them."

  My feeble joke evoked a smile, but I wasn't quite free to go. "Well, your homework is easier to grade than most. I also wanted to let you know that I'm happy with what you've been doing at the lab, and to give you this."

  As unbelievable as it was considering that most of my classmates seemed more concerned with working their fast-food jobs than with doing homework, the plain envelope she handed me contained my very first paycheck. Ever.

  I all but skipped out of the classroom. Later I'd probably complain about how small it was and wish I had enough to go shoe shopping, but for now it was just nice to know I had some discretionary money.

  Brandon looked up as I walked into the cafeteria, and waved me over. As I threaded between a pair of closely-set tables I noticed that Alec's table seemed unusually unsettled. If a shouting match could be conducted in whispers, it was being done by Jasmin and James, neither of who looked like they were happy about whatever was being discussed. Alec wasn't talking, but from the way he was scanning the room, he didn't want to be there anymore than the rest of them.

  I made it to Brandon's table, and was still pulling my meal replacement drink out of my bag when the loudspeaker clicked on with the obligatory burst of static.

  "This is Principal Gossil and I've got an exciting announcement. The school is sponsoring a trip to Las Vegas to see the production of Les Misérables that just started. Tickets are available at a discounted rate in the office for the next two days."

  It was like someone had rifled through my mind to pick out my biggest disappointment in recent days, pulled it out and rubbed salt on the wound before cramming it back inside me. Of course I'd go see how big of a discount the school had gotten the tickets at, but it was extremely unlikely my tiny check would end up being enough.

  It took me a moment to realize Mr. Gossil hadn't ended his announcement. "...those wishing to be entered into the drawing should stop by the office between today and noon tomorrow."

  In the face of the near-universal apathy expressed by the rest of the student body, it took my mind several seconds to process exactly what had been said. I grabbed Brandon's arm and shook it to get his attention. "Did he just say they were drawing for free tickets?"

  Brandon looked slightly amused. Cassie, who I'd just interrupted, looked very much not amused. "I think so. I wasn't paying very close attention, but I think he did."

  The sound that came out of my mouth was disturbingly close to a squeal, but I was too excited to care. I waved goodbye as I stood and headed towards the doors.

  Amazingly enough, there was already a line in the office by the time I got there. Either the nerds who liked musicals didn't actually eat in the lunchroom, or some of the people who maintained a cool, disinterested facade actually wanted to see it. My enthusiasm ebbed lower and lower as I waited in line behind a number of people who it turned out didn't even want to see the show, but figured that this would be a great chance to get away from their parents for the better part of twelve hours.

  By the time I signed my name to a brightly-colored pink slip of paper, dropped it into the box, and walked out past the ridiculously-long line of people still waiting to enter the drawing, I knew for a certainty that I wasn't going. They'd posted the cost of the tickets, and I'd been right. My paycheck wasn't going to cut it.

  I was still trying to decide whether or not to head back into the cafeteria, when the first bell rang, signaling a fitting end to a disappointment-filled lunch.

  History wasn't any better, and we had a sub for Physics. Alec actually walked into class, saw Mrs. Alexander wasn't there, and then turned around and left. It was possibly the most brazen act of class cutting I'd ever seen, and somehow it didn't surprise me in the least. Even so, I spent the rest of the hour stewing while working on the pointless, busywork assignment the sub handed out.

  Mrs. Tiggs still hadn't finished grading our tests, which meant I still had no idea how I'd done.

  By the time I finally half-collapsed at my normal table in the tutor lab, all I could think about was how nice it would be to see Brandon one more time as he drove me home. I looked around to verify that all of the usual suspects were there. Geeks, check. Jocks, check. Rachel and her sinister sidekick James, check.

  I smiled at Rachel and then flipped open my math book. Everything went just like normal, and promptly at five I closed my binder and started stuffing books into my backpack. I looked up to find Rachel standing in front of my table.

  "Are you ready? James had to leave early, but don't worry, we've still got a ride home."

  I think I managed to keep the disappointment off of my face. Rachel at least didn't seem to notice. Somehow I'd lost track of the fact that it was a Wednesday, and Brandon therefore wouldn't be taking me home.

  "Great. Britney's been avoiding me like the plague. I didn't even see her leave today."

  I'd never noticed that Rachel's laugh was possibly the prettiest I'd ever heard. Tinkling bells and all that aside, it really did sound like the kind of laugh you'd hear described for the princess of a fairy tale. Had I really never heard her laugh before, or was it just that she hadn't ever meant it before?

  "She left about five minutes before James did."

  "Still chatting up her prime candidate for the big dance?"

  Rachel nodded as we skirted the last two tables between us and the one exterior door in the tutor lab.

  "Yep, she's de
finitely settled on Tim Parsons, who's perfect if you like your men fairly handsome, moderately popular, and built like an ox."

  I wanted to protest, but if anything Rachel was being too kind. I'd seen Tim trying to sound out the captions underneath the pictures in Sports Illustrated of his favorite pro football players.

  I was just about to ask who we were going to ride with, more as a way of changing the subject than anything else, when movement off to my right answered the question.

  "Alec!"

  The last thing I was expecting out of Rachel was for her to all but run towards Alec with her arms out as if expecting a hug. Even so, that was less surprising than the fact that Alec accepted the hug, turning slightly to the side to receive her, but still reaching out with his left arm to pull her in close, albeit only briefly.

  "You didn't think I'd forget, did you?"

  "Not forget, no, just maybe be a little late."

  As abruptly as that, the interplay between the two siblings ended, leaving an uncomfortable silence as odd as the affection from a moment before.

  We walked to Alec's car in silence, the pair of them apparently lost in their own thoughts, and me wondering why Alec had agreed to give me a ride home. I wasn't enough of a car aficionado to recognize the vehicle other than the fact that it was a matte gray and had the kind of smooth, exotic lines all of the high-end vehicles seemed to be striving for right now. Rachel slipped in the backseat while I was still wondering how this seemingly low-profile ride matched up against Brandon's Mustang.

  "Did you enter the drawing for Les Misérables tickets?"

  I looked over to find Rachel sitting in the middle of the seat, happily leaning forward so she could talk to us. "Yes, but so did everyone else. My chances are so dismal they're not even worth mentioning."

  Rachel looked like she was going to argue, or say something cheerful, but the back of my mind had been trying to figure out how she could be even with us, but still sitting in the back seat. I did a quick check to verify my suspicion.

  "Rachel, you should be wearing your seatbelt."

  "Why? It isn't like anyone is going to pull us over and give us a ticket."

  It was more difficult than I expected to formulate a coherent answer while fighting off the first quivering indications of another attack.

  "She's right, Rachel. You should be buckled in."

  I expected her to argue with him. No girl on the planet liked it when her older brother sided with her friends against her, but Rachel just frowned a little before scooting back so she could do up her seatbelt.

  Was she really that scared of him? I stole a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He didn't look threatening, well, at least no more so than usual. Anyone with that many muscles was at least a little threatening. But he was just sitting there casually, driving along, seemingly without a care in the world. In fact, he wasn't buckled in either.

  "Isn't that a bit hypocritical? I mean you tell her to buckle up, but you're not buckled up yourself."

  Alec shrugged. "Yes, I suppose it does look hypocritical at that. Let's just say Rachel would be missed if we hit another car, but nobody would need to miss me."

  The answer was like something you'd expect from a politician. It conveyed absolutely no information, and his supreme confidence was infuriating.

  Luckily, I wouldn't have to hold my tongue for very long. We were already gliding around the last bend in the road before our lane. I expected Alec to slow to a stop and make me walk like James had. He slowed, but just enough to make the turn down the dusty lane.

  Rachel jumped out of the car as soon as it slowed down and opened my door for me. "Enjoy the rest of your night, and don't lose hope on Les Misérables. You never know when you're going to beat the odds."

  Shaking my head in amazement at Rachel's unfailing optimism, I turned to thank Alec for the ride. He was scowling a little again, which almost made me get out without saying anything. My thanks received only a nod in return, and then Rachel was waving goodbye as they backed down the lane.

  The Jeep was gone, of course. I wiped away the beginnings of perspiration as I climbed our steps. It was still hot enough outside that I knew it was going to be miserable inside.

  By the time I reached the door I was contemplating just finding a decent tree and spending the afternoon outside. The sight of a white envelope, barely visible against the off-white door, was enough to drive those thoughts out of my head.

  It had my name on the side that'd been facing the door. I pulled it down as I walked inside the house. Mom was gone, there wasn't any reason I couldn't read whatever was in the envelope in the living room, but I found myself quickly climbing up our creaky stairs and closing my bedroom door behind me.

  I tore the envelope open and pulled out a piece of heavy paper, almost like parchment. The writing was elegant, a kind of flowing script that was different from anything I'd ever seen, but which paled against the sheer artistry of the sigil positioned at the bottom of the note.

  Adriana,

  Your words of thanks were altogether unexpected, but decidedly appreciated. You're most welcome for whatever small part I might have played in helping events to unfold as they would have in a perfect world.

  My actions were not such as to merit any large boon from you, but still I must ask one. Please never show this note to anyone. I ask not for myself, but for the others such knowledge could affect.

  I hope your circumstances continue on much as they are now, but on the chance they do not, I can be reached by leaving a note in the hollow of the lightning-struck tree half a mile to the east of your house.

  --@