Beautifully Broken

“I don’t know, because I love to read.” I do. The Kindle app on my phone and Amazon’s free books have been a godsend, but I’ll never tell Ms. Cherrybroom that. Falling into someone else’s life, where no matter what they get their happily ever after, usually with a jaw-droppingly hot guy. Yeah, sign me up.

Rex raises his brows and gives me a pointed look. “I’ve never seen you with a book that wasn’t school related.”

“Have you been watching me, Mr. Montgomery?”

He freezes, like a kid caught with his hand in the candy jar. “No. I...uh...I’m just saying. When I see you around campus you never have a book. I mean you always have schoolbooks, but not like fun books. I guess I never pegged you for the reading type.”

“And what exactly does the reading type look like?”

6

Rex

Foot. Meet. Mouth. If I could facepalm myself right now I would, but then I’d look even more lame than I feel.

What does the reading type look like?

Is there even a right way to answer this? I scratch the back of my neck. “Uh… well… umm.... shit. There’s nothing I could say right now that wouldn’t make me sound like a total dick. Is there?”

Piper smirks. “Nope.”

Netflix pauses, giving us their famous “Are you there” screen. Piper half-chuckles, apparently finding its question funny, then crosses her long legs under her. “I started reading because my bio-mom said girls like me didn’t need to be smart. All I needed was a pretty mouth and a thin body. Then guys would pay to make my life easy. Being the brat I was, I read as many books as I could just to spite her.”

Seriously? Who tells their daughter that? Little girls should be raised to believe they’re princesses. They should be spoiled rotten with impeccable manners and taught that they are capable of anything. Reminded everyday of their self-worth. My future daughter will be given the world one day. “Your mother sounds like a piece of work.”

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Piper snort-laughs, a shadow falling across her face as she looks down at her hands. “You don’t know the half of it.”

I nudge her shoulder with mine. “Well, I think you’ll make the cutest librarian.”

She smirks. Her smiles while brief are like opals—beautiful, rare, and worth cherishing. I don’t know why, but I’m excited that I keep causing them. “I can see you now with a messy bun surrounded by books. You’d be just like Belle only more hardcore.”

“Who?”

Piper’s joking. She has to be. I can’t think of I girl I know who hasn’t seen Beauty and the Beast, especially since they made that live action one a few summers ago. “Belle? From Beauty and the Beast.”

Piper shakes her head. “Wait, wasn’t that the movie the chick who played Hermione Granger was in a few years ago? Emma something?”

“Oh my god. You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve never seen it? Tell me you’ve seen it.”

She shrugs, a smile playing on her lips.

“It’s a Disney classic. Have you seen any of the princess movies?”

“You obviously have.”

Piper has no idea. I’ve seen everything Disney’s made, even the black and white movies that weren’t animated. Can’t say I liked those as much, but I’ve still seen them. “My nanny growing up, Gretchen, was obsessed with all things Disney. Every Halloween when she took me trick or treating, she’d dress up as one of the princesses. Pretty sure I can quote every line Aladdin says in the first movie.” Probably the second one too, but she doesn’t need to know how much of a closet nerd I am.

“Gretchen sounds amazing.”

There’s a longing in her voice I can relate to. Piper’s relationship with her mom sounds just as fucked up as mine. People think because my Dad’s famous that I have this perfect life. More money than God. Two doting parents. Vacations on yachts and exotic islands. They couldn’t be more wrong.

“She is, but she wasn’t my mom. For years I hated Gretchen. I thought if I made her life a living hell she’d quit and Mom would come home. But she never did. Gretchen was too stubborn and Mom was too busy with Dad and his career.”

I’d made Gretchen’s life unnecessarily hard, but like a true mother she stuck it out. Showed me that no matter what she would love me and be there, unlike my real mother. Even now she still calls me once a week, just to see how I’m doing. My Mom texts me about once a month. Boring. Stupid GIFs. They are as impersonal as an emailed birthday card.

And yes, Mother has sent me those too.