Read Tears of the Broken Online
Authors: A.M Hudson
Tags: #vampire, #depression, #death, #paranormal romance, #fantasy, #book, #teen fiction, #twilight, #tears of the broken, #am hudson
David leaned closer and whispered, “Two I C.”
Hm,
second in command? So, it goes footballers, then Emily’s group.
Well, where does that place me if I hang out with one of
each—assuming David
is
a footballer?
Emily’s voice trailed back in with my attention span. “And
Ryan hangs out on the basketball courts, mostly.” She looked at
Ryan for confirmation; he shrugged with a small nod. “And Alana
hangs with those guys.” She pointed to the muso’s sitting behind
her.
“
Cool.” I nodded. “Well, thanks for keeping me company today,
you guys. I would’ve felt like a total loser sitting by
myself.”
“
That would never happen.” Emily tilted her head to the side.
“Someone would’ve come and talked to you. If they could get past
David, that is.” She threw him a mock annoyed stare.
David grinned and leaned back in his chair, resting his hands
behind his head. “Can you blame me? I kinda like fresh
meat.”
I
inched away from David jokingly and a sudden whoosh of air brushed
past my hair. “Ah!” the kid at the table behind us yelped and
rubbed his head. Everyone in the cafeteria turned around to stare
at him—silence washed over the room.
“
What gives?” His friend stood up and looked over at the
football jocks.
“
What up, losers? Mummy forget to pack your helmet for you?”
one of them jeered.
Those total jerks! I can’t believe they have so little regard
for the feelings of another human being.
Apple pulp covered the boy’s head and shoulders, and the
remainder of the offending fruit rolled around on the ground just
near his feet. He stood up and grabbed it, his knuckles turning
white as he stared across the cafeteria.
“
Just leave it, Dominic. It’s not worth it,” one of the chess
club guys called to him.
I
wonder if throwing the apple back might result in a worse attack,
later.
The
boy, Dominic, squeezed the apple a little tighter, and his face
turned bright red around his tightly clenched teeth. I slid my
chair out a little. I should go over and see if he’s okay, maybe
even take the apple and throw it back at those boys myself. Stupid
teenage boys. They think they’re so cool.
As I
stood fully and took one step, something brushed past
me.
“
David? Don’t!” Emily yelped.
I
looked back at David, standing near our table with his arm raised
behind his head and the apple in his hand. How did he get the
apple? Did Dominic throw it to David without me seeing
it?
Dominic’s eyes narrowed and he looked at his hand, then at
David. I followed his gaze just in time to see the apple explode
into a million pieces on the wall above the jocks’ heads—showering
them in a cloud of apple pulp and juice.
A
cool silence lingered. David’s arm came back down to his side, with
his shoulder still leaned in to the throw when the whole room
erupted—every person, sitting or standing, started clapping and
cheering. Even the jock that threw the apple raised his thumb at
David and laughed.
With
a numb kind of shock, I held my breath. What the hell was that?
Where did he learn to throw like that? David looked down at the
ground, his eyes displaying amusement, but betraying anger. As he
sat back down, I closed my gaping mouth and walked up to the
chess-kid, now sitting at the table, rubbing the back of his head.
“Hey? Are you okay?” I asked.
“
Yeah, I’m fine,” he moaned. “Those guys are just
assholes.”
“
Yeah. They had no right to do that. I’m so sorry.” I don’t
know why I’m apologising. I just feel really bad for him. I wish
it’d been me that it hit instead. I can handle embarrassment pretty
well.
“
Thanks.” Dominic smiled—well half smiled. I can tell he’s
hurt, both inside and out.
“
Yeah, but it was cool what David just did,” one of the other
guys piped up, still laughing.
“
Right. Today. But tomorrow he’ll just be a big jackass again
like the rest of them.” The boy dropped his hand from his head and
shifted the Knight on the chessboard.
Did
I hear right? David? A jackass? I knew it. I knew he was one of
them. I just didn’t want to believe it. When I looked back at
David, he turned away, dropping his head between his stiff
shoulders. “Is that true?” I sat back down in my spot.
Everyone at the table went quiet. David looked at Emily; I
followed his gaze. Emily shrugged. She seems to pass everything off
with that move. “Really, Ara. He sits with them, but he’s not like
them at all. Anymore.”
Anymore? I searched his face for a second, but he kept his
eyes on the table between his wrists. Ryan and Alana looked back at
their food, making sideways glances at each other. “So what’s the
big deal, then?” I shrugged and looked at Emily. “Why are you all
acting strange?”
Emily took a breath to speak, but David cut in. “Because I
was a jackass, Ara.” He turned his face to me and a flicker,
resembling disgrace, fluttered under his eyelids. “When I first
came to the school I used to do stuff like that all the time.” He
looked away again.
“
Oh,
okay. Well…” I blinked, studying the side of David’s face. “I still
don’t get it. You’re not like that now, so—” I let the vowel trail
off.
David looked over at the fruit-throwing jocks.
“
Am
I stopping you from sitting with them?” I asked. “Because you don’t
need to babysit me. I’m a big girl.”
“
It’s not that, Ara.” Emily waved a hand.
“
Okay, so fill me in?” I used Emily’s shrug to appear
indifferent.
“
I
had hoped it might be some time before you learned of this—you know
what they say—about first impressions.” David looked at me with
those big, green eyes.
“
What? You mean
my
first impression—of
you
?” Well that’s
flattering. He cares what I think about him as much as I care what
he thinks about me. This is good. This is very good. “Um. I’ve
already made my decisions about who I think you are, and, David?” I
looked over at the chess club boy. “What you did for that kid—it
was really nice. Jackass-jocks, they don’t do things like
that.”
“
And
neither do fragile, very breakable young girls,” he retorted with a
focused glare.
Is
he referring to me? I inhaled a huff of insult through my open
mouth. How dare he? Fragile? Breakable? “I can take care of myself,
thank you,” I scolded. “How’d you even know I was gonna throw it
back at them?”
“
I
could tell—from the way you looked at them,” he added in a low
tone.
“
Really, Ara. You should avoid revenge throws when it comes to
fruit at this school,” Emily warned.
“
Well, thanks, but I’m fine. I know how to hold my
own.”
“
Sure. Until you hit the wrong person in the head and they
come after you,” Ryan said.
I
looked at him. Alana kept her head down, remaining
quiet.
“
Is
that true, David?” I asked.
David glowered at Ryan. “They’re bullies, Ara. They don’t
care who you are, or whom you hang out with. If they get it in for
you, you might as well leave the school.” Agitation laced his tone.
“It was just better for all if I turned it into a game with them.
You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.” After a
second he breathed out through his nose, and his shoulders dropped.
“I’m sorry I stepped in, and I know you can take care of yourself.
It was not my intention to offend you. I just didn’t want—” David
stopped speaking altogether and swallowed hard—studying me with
pleading eyes.
Is
he lost for words? Over an apple bomb?
My
mouth refused to close and cold air rushed through my lips with
each breath. What is this guy’s problem?
Everyone quietly watched David and I, with their mouths
hanging open almost as far as mine. My eyes narrowed. “I don’t
think I can imagine you being like those guys.” He’s way too sweet,
naïve, even. It seems like he’s always been that way. How could he
ever have sat by and watched—or helped those bullies treat people
like that?
My
words only made David stiffen more, and he took a long breath
through his nose—making the tension around the table turn into
dense air. I sighed aloud. I need to lighten things up a bit.
“Besides,” I sipped my milk and placed it down on the table, “what
does it matter what I think? You only just met me.”
David leaned back in his chair and shook his head, pinching
the bridge of his nose as he groaned to himself.
Emily looked at David, then at me.
“
David? Did I say something to offend you?” I asked, going
over my words in my head.
“
Ara. You just don’t get it.” He rubbed his
forehead.
I
bit my lip to hold back from giving him a piece of my mind. Who is
he to tell me what I get, and what I don’t? He doesn’t even know
me. I met him all of what, four hours ago, and now he’s taking
insult to the fact that I don’t care what kind of a person he is?
Should it matter to me? I mean—I know it does matter to me—but
what’s it to him? No way, this is just too weird.
I
drew a breath to support my serving…
“
So,
Ara?” Emily interjected. “You moved over here from Oz.
Why?”
I
swallowed the breath and my posture slumped a little—probably not
noticeably, but enough to make me feel smaller. David leaned
forward and looked at my face with narrowed eyes, then he sat up
straight.
“
I—uh.” Don’t want to talk about it! That’s what I should say.
Say it, Ara. Just say it. Er! I irritate myself sometimes. I need a
distraction—there has to be something.
As I
scanned the room with my eyes, wishing the jocks would throw a
banana or something, David reached across to grab the salt from my
tray. All of a sudden, my milk carton tilted under his arm, then
rocked for a second before landing on its side with a thud.
Everyone jumped back just as chocolate milk spread across the
plastic table, trickling onto the floor in pastel rivers, right
where our laps had been.
“
Ara, I’m so sorry.” David lifted our trays out of the mess,
shaking his head. “I’ll get a cloth.”
After he walked away, I looked at Emily and we both burst out
laughing. David doesn’t know it, but I owe him—big time.
When
the bell rang, I stacked my dirty tray on the trolley and smacked
straight into David’s chest as I turned around. “Ah, David, you
scared me!”
“
Sorry.” He smiled and stacked his tray on mine, staying
awkwardly close to me. I took a half a step back so I could look up
at him without straining my neck. “Are you okay, Ara?”
I
crossed my arms over my chest and hunched my shoulders a little.
“Why? Why would you ask that?”
He
looked around the almost empty lunchroom. “I’ve seen you avoid the
topic of your family and your home twice, today.” He stepped
closer—close enough for me to discover that the top of my head only
just meets his mouth. “I just want you to know that I am an
excellent listener.”
“
I—”
I can’t speak, he’s too close to me. His lips nearly brushed my
hair as I nodded, and the heat of his breath—with an underlying
cool, like he’s just had a mint, yet warm, and sweet—trickled over
the bridge of my nose. I took another step back from him, afraid I
might accidently stand on my toes and kiss him. “I…um. It’s
nothing. I’m fine. I just—” really should’ve made up some elaborate
lie before I came to this school is all. Emily’s shrug-bug caught
on to me.
“
Okay, Ara.” David took a deep breath and looked to the side.
“Like I said, I’ll be here when you want to talk. I—I can see
there’s something bothering you. I don’t have to know you to notice
that.”
“
Well. That’s…a little bit concerning.” I laughed it off. Am I
so obvious? So much for my poker face. “Look, when I need a friend?
I promise, you’ll be the first person I come to.”
“
Okay.” He looked into my eyes for a long moment. What is it
that he can see there? I’m told I display my emotions on my face,
but for my sake, I really hope not. “Come on,” David ushered with a
nod, “let’s get you to class.”
The
eerie grasp of the terrifying, brown building released me as I
neared the edge of the only treeless road in this entire suburb.
Sam said they removed all the trees that used to line the school
grounds, because a kid got hit by a car when he was crossing the
road. Apparently it was the tree’s fault the car didn’t see
him.
The
shrill peal of a whistle summoned football practice to start behind
me, and the dull thud of a boot on the ball made my skin itch to be
off the oval. But I’m not ready to go home.
I
perched myself on a knee-height tree-stump at the edge of the oval
and looked across at the white house on the corner. It’s a
different world over there. The maple trees line the paths on both
sides, forming two parallel lines that meet up with the school in a
T-junction. Behind the leafy-greens sit quaint little
houses—whimsical and yet mysterious—like something from a
fairy-tale. They’re pretty much all the same as my dad’s, just
different colours. Some grey, some olive green, but mostly white.
The kind of houses that, on the fourth of July, have flags hanging
from the porches, and kids running from the long, grass-lined
driveways waving sparklers around.