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
He
laughed to himself. “Dracula, Jamaica Inn, Pride and Prejudice. I
actually read quite a bit, though, not so much
anymore
, myself.”
Why
didn’t I just tell him I still read all the time? It would’ve been
easier than having him wonder why I don’t
anymore
. “Why not?” I asked, curious
about his reasons. Also curious as to why a seventeen-year-old boy
would admit to reading Pride and Prejudice, of his own free
will.
“
Well, let’s just say—” he grinned as he leaned against the
wall near another brown door, “—I have better things to do with my
time at the moment.”
“
Er,
yeah me too,” I added and looked at the black plaque beside him.
LIBRARY. The oddly placed room sat inconspicuously in the long wall
of the first floor corridor. If David wasn’t with me, I might’ve
passed it completely.
“
Don’t let looks deceive you. It’s actually quite well
stocked.”
We
stepped inside the class-sized room, and shelves of books,
practically touching the ceiling, greeted us with the rich smell of
old pages. A group of study desks marked the centre of the brightly
lit space and brand new computers lined the walls on one side.
Well, it seems that for what the school lacks in style, it makes up
for in supplies.
My
unfairly gorgeous tour guide stood motionless beside me, seeming to
wait for me to decide where to sit, so I started off with a
determined stride and, using my ankle, untucked a chair at the
circle of study desks. The lone student I took the seat beside
didn’t bother to look up as I dumped my bag down, unzipped it and
stuffed my lesson plan inside. But then, he most likely didn’t hear
me approach since the music coming from his earphones could
probably be heard across the room. I wonder if, by having his
earphones coming out from under his shirt, he’s trying to hide the
fact that he’s listening to music or if maybe everyone wears their
iPod’s in their shirts around here.
David’s backpack ruffled on the table beside me and he
smiled, making no effort to look away as I moved my gaze from the
kid, to him. Why is he staring at me? Maybe he’s wondering why I’m
staring at the kid with the earphones. “I went to a private
school,” I whispered in my ‘library’ voice. “We were never allowed
to bring iPod’s to school.”
David smiled and lifted one shoulder slightly. “I kinda
figured as much.”
How
could he figure as much? Is it that obvious that I’m private school
fodder? I can’t think of anything I’ve said or done that would give
it away.
A
heavy, rectangle textbook thudded on the table in front of me.
“This one’s for you.” David tapped the book as we sat down. I slid
it in front of me and traced the text on the cover with my
fingertip. “You know,” David said, “you’re awfully quiet. I
expected you to say more by now.”
“
We’re in a library,” I whispered, leaning closer, slightly
covering my mouth.
David laughed and looked around. “We don’t have teachers in
here. No one cares if you talk.”
I
sat taller and slowly turned my head. He’s right. I didn’t even
notice. There’s no desk and no old, grey-haired woman with
large-rimmed glasses shushing us when we breathe. “Cool.” I grinned
and opened my notepad and textbook.
“
Now,” David inclined toward me, “it’s your first day, so we
can either fill you in on Mr. Benson’s class, or—” he looked at the
student near us and paused.
I
leaned into David slightly, resting my cheek on the back of my
hand. “I already prefer the
or
.” I can’t believe I just said
that—aloud. How creepy.
Leaning back in his chair, David placed his hands behind his
head. “You know, I think I’m beginning to like you already,
Ara-Rose.”
Well
that’s good, because I’m totally in love with you already. “It’s
just Ara, by the way,” I said. The name
is
beginning to grow on me. New
name. New me.
The
boy sat straight and looked at me with one eye slightly squinted,
then folded his arms over his chest and looked down. “Okay,
Ara
. What’s your next
class?”
“
Uh,
hold on a sec.” I dug into my backpack and pulled out the lesson
plan and map, then passed them to David.
He
placed the map on the table, but kept his fingers on it, studying
my lesson plan with an impish grin.
“
Is
it bad?” All the blood ran from my face as he handed it back to
me.
“
You
have music next, with me.” He shook his head. “I mean, with Mr.
Grant, but I’m in your class.” His lip dented into his cheek on one
side, showing the dimple. Melt.
“
Is
he nice?” Right now I’m expecting a two-headed monster for a music
professor, judging from the smirk on David’s face.
“
It’s okay, I’ll be there with you.” He eyes sparkled
mischievously.
I
folded my bottom lip between my teeth. The school day has barely
started and already I just want to go home and crawl under my bed.
Music class is going to be bad—I can feel it. But, I have to face
this one way or another. Better to do it standing beside the most
amazingly sweet and perfect guy I’ve ever met.
“
So?
What instrument do you play?” I asked. I’ve found that I can sum up
a lot about people by the kind of music they like, and more, by the
instrument they choose to express themselves with.
David sat back a little and drummed his fingers on the desk.
“Well, I actually play all instruments. But this term I’m focusing
on the guitar.”
Damn. Well, that blows my prejudice out the window. “I
would’ve figured you for a bass guy?”
“
Bass? And…what exactly would
that
say about me?” The
heart-stealing smile he presented as he leaned on his elbow made me
shiver—in a good way.
“
Cool? Confident?” I let out a soft breath
before adding, “Sexy?” I shrugged as I said it, but as soon as the
words slipped out, my cheeks burned and my throat tightened. Oops,
now
that
was
creepy.
David stared at me for a second, his lip twitching as if
stuck on a word. He lowered his shoulders with a breath, then
straightened up again.
“
I’m
sorry. Was that rude?” I asked. I’m such an idiot.
“
No.
Not at all. Just…unexpected.” He stared forward, frowning
slightly.
I
looked down at my books, unsure what to say. Is unexpected a good
thing?
“
You
just seem so shy and quiet, now. I hardly expect you to say
anything, let alone something so—honest,” David said, looking at me
with soft eyes.
“
I’m not really shy. I’m just quiet because
I’m new. But you won’t be able to shut me up in a few weeks.” I
laughed but stifled it quickly. As if that would be reassuring. And
there I go again with the assumptions. Who says this guy will even
talk to me after today. He’s only here because the teacher forced
him to bring me up to scale. I kind of feel sorry for him now. I
mean, some strange girl comes into the school, falls all over
herself when she looks at you, and then expects you’ll still be
talking to her
weeks
from now.
He
suppressed a smile, nodding his head softly. “Well, I look forward
to seeing your more talkative side.”
Is
he serious? Maybe I didn’t make myself clear enough the first
time.
Um, hello? I am totally infatuated
with you and I just met you
. My inner self
pointed to my chest—shouting the words,
psychopath. Crazy. You should run away, now!
David chuckled quietly to himself. Did I miss something? What
is he laughing at? Maybe my facial expressions are giving away some
strange internal monologue or something. I knew I’d embarrass
myself, I just knew it.
Since there’s no rock to hide under in here, I’ll have to
redirect my humiliating display with a question. “So, are the
people here nice?” That’s a normal enough kind of question. I was
going to say, “Hey let’s be rebels and ditch class—go somewhere
quiet, where we can be alone, talk for hours and get to know each
other,”—but that
is
way too creepy.
After a deep breath, David nodded. “Yeah, mostly. You
shouldn’t have a problem, though. Seems you’ve struck up a
friendship with Emily Peirce?”
“
Is
that good?” I hope it’s good. Emily seems nice. I’m just not very
good at first impressions. I’d hate to think I’d ended up friends
with the school bully.
David coughed beside me, and when I looked at him, he looked
away. “Uh—yes, it’s good. Emily’s very popular. She has special
gift for making people like her.” He smiled to himself—probably
passing over a thought about Emily. A good one.
“
You
like her, then?”
“
She’s very easy to be around. I think you two will be good
friends.”
Does
that mean I’m easy to be around? And there I go again, looking for
hidden meanings in words that aren’t there.
“
I’m
sure you’ll make friends easily here, Ara. You’ve already made two
today and school has only just begun.” He smiled warmly.
That
was nice of him—to say that. It’s so weird that only half an hour
ago I was terrified to even step off the driveway, and now I’m
here, alone with David, and he just called himself my
friend—completely tarnishing all my first impressions about this
once seemingly nightmarish brown building.
“
Well, thanks.” I shrugged, but couldn’t contain my
smile.
It
was a strange sensation, but for the first time in over two months,
I just smiled for real.
Chapter
Two
“
W
hy are they all
staring at me?” I whispered to David as we strolled through the
corridors to our next class—the dreaded music
class.
David grinned, wiping his thumb across his chin.
“
I’m right, aren’t I?” I scowled at one of
the girls, whose mouth hung open like a frog waiting for a fly.
“They
are
staring.”
“
They’ll stop in a few weeks. They’re just fascinated by
anything with colour. And you are—” he smiled at my yellow dress,
“very colourful.”
Colourful? I wish I could be smaller—small enough to fit
inside a locker.
“
Dave—way to go, man.” A group of boys wearing the school
football team jackets passed us and waved noisily at
David.
Hm,
I wonder if there’s some hint of fact to my earlier near-assumption
about David being a jock. He just doesn’t fit the stereotype,
though. But then, I have only talked to him for an hour. I hardly
know him at all.
David nodded toward the boys and kept walking—close to
me—with his arm almost against mine. If I just stumble and shift
over an inch, we’d touch. I kinda hope someone shoves me and I have
to fall into David to stop from landing face-first on the ground.
At least pushing and shoving would be easier to deal with than all
the staring and whispering. It’s getting old, fast. I mean, are
they looking at me because I’m new or because I’m walking with
David?
David stopped at the end of a long, brightly-lit corridor,
painted in a rich burgundy colour—so unlike the rest of this pallid
school. “This is the auditorium.” He placed his palm flat on one of
the double doors. As it swung open, my breath caught in my throat.
“It’s much brighter in here when all the stage lights are on,” he
said.
“
Are
you kidding, this room is great.” My eyes followed the long columns
of steeply inclined blue seats to where a stage, taller than me,
commanded the entire front of the room like a widescreen LCD, but
big enough to hold the performance of a Broadway musical. Heavy
velvet curtains framed the sides of the stage, and the black
floorboards thudded noisily under the footfalls of kids walking
across it to position their instruments.
Another small group of students gathered at the foot of the
stage where they’d dragged tables and chairs into a small,
disorderly cluster, and were sitting around on them, joking and
laughing loudly.
In
the seconds it took for me to size up the group, my eyes swept past
them and stopped on a long forgotten acquaintance of mine. “A
piano?” I said with a wide smile, unable to peel my eyes away from
the old upright.
“
You
like it?” David asked. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to her.” When
David let go of the auditorium door, it thudded loudly behind us.
Everyone looked up, and the shambolic wailing of their instruments
stopped abruptly, leaving a dense silence as we started down the
aisle. “You ready for this?”
“
No,
but I have little choice.” I tried to laugh off the nerves, but
nothing came out.
“
It’s okay.” He grinned and slipped his hand through the strap
of my backpack, resting it just under my shoulder blade. “I’ll take
care of you.”
He’s
touching me. I can’t breathe. Didn’t anyone ever teach this guy
about personal boundaries? I mean, it’s not like I want him to stop
doing that, but where I come from, people just aren’t quite
so…friendly. And it’s totally not helping with my
nerves.