Beautifully Broken

“Then why do you have that shitty look on your face?”

Okay, I might as well get this over with. It’s not like I’m going to announce my place of employment to the world but there’s no sense in hid

ing it from him.

“Because I took Marcus up on his offer.”

He mimes unplugging his ears. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I heard you correctly. Would you mind repeating that?”

The warning bell rings. The buzz in the hall gets louder as the students really start to hustle.

“You heard me. I’m going to be a dancer. The hours are short and the money is more than enough.”

“Over my dead fucking body!” he shouts. Despite the volume surrounding us, he’s loud enough that we garner more than a few curious glances.

What the hell? Why is he reacting like this? If anyone would approve of a naked lady profession, it’d be him.

“What’s your problem, Dylan?”

He grips my bicep. Hard. “Are you fucking kidding me, Kat? Why would you think I’d be okay with you taking your clothes of in front of a bunch of drunk men?”

“Let. Go. Of. My. Arm,” I say, seething.

“I’m sorry.” He releases me and rubs a hand over his face. “You can’t do this, Kat. I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it?” I repeat. “Who the hell do you think you are? You and Bree understand my situation more than anyone. I don’t have a choice; the benefits far outweigh my pride. You know how much I need the money. Even if I didn’t, it’s not your decision. It’s my body, Dylan.”

“The fuck it is!” he yells. “I’m not going to share you with a bunch of nasty, lonely men looking to get their rocks off.”

“I’m not yours to share!” I scream back.

“Hey!” a loud voice booms. “What’s going on out here?”

I look up and realize that the bell must have rung. Dylan and I are the only ones left in the hall. And the very angry teacher yelling at us. I didn’t notice until now that we’d stopped right outside of our next class.

Gavin crosses his arms over his chest. “Well? I’m waiting for an explanation.”

Dylan mimics his stance. “Don’t hold your breath, Teach.”

“Watch it, Mr. Taylor,” Gavin warns.

“Fuck off,” Dylan mutters under his breath.

“That just earned detention after school,” Gavin says curtly.

I roll my eyes. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Gavin points his finger at me. “You too, Miss Kennedy.”

What? Is he serious?

“You can’t give me detention!” I protest. “I start my new job today.”

“Fine. Then you can serve yours during lunch.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Afraid not,” he replies. “Now both of you get inside and take your seats. This conversation is over.”