Beautifully Broken

I think I’m nervous.

Go figure. The hottest guy in school that I’ll never have a chance with is ushering me inside and now my brain starts to act like a teenage girl. If I can’t get this under control, I’m screwed.

Rex angles his body to shield me from eyes that might be watching as we cross the parking lot. The smell of musk and clean linen swirl in my head. It’s delicious. I sniff again, committing the scent to memory because the likelihood that I’ll be this close to him again is slim to none. Even if Rex can touch me without causing a debilitating panic attack, handsome, popular guys don’t actually like girls like me. They just like the way we make them feel.

2

Piper

Can you believe it? Poor Tad.

Did you see his face? I heard Piper’s pimp jumped him for more money.

I heard Piper went psycho and started beating on Tad because he said she was nasty.

Well I heard she’s knocked up and Tad was gonna out who the baby daddy is.

I keep my head up, gaze focused, ignoring the daily gossip. Nine times out of ten, it’s about me. I used to stick up for myself but fighting would only fuel the fire. Now, I just don’t care… much. I’m used to it, but that doesn’t mean the talk doesn’t bother me.

I keep walking, ignoring more whispers from people who think I can’t hear them because they’re two steps behind me. These parents pay a fortune for their kids to be here. No one said anything about making them smart.

I heard…

The sound of a body being pushed into a locker slows my stride. I steal a glance over my shoulder, searching for where it came from. A small circle forms behind me. Two guys are at the center of it, the tops of their heads barely visible through the crowd of people.

“Fix this,” one voice growls. The deep rumble is an undeniable mix of northern twang and country sass. Rex.

I duck around the corner and hide in a doorway. Close enough to hear what’s happening but far enough that no one notices me. The last thing I need is a rumor about liking Rex because I stopped to watch the fight. Yes, people are that petty. I can’t even stop and enjoy someone else’s drama without it somehow biting me in the ass.

A body slams against the smooth metal again. The blonde pinned against the lockers chuckles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I shudder thinking about what could have happened yesterday if Rex had been a minute later. Tad’s voice will forever be etched in my mind. The events of yesterday added to the loop of trauma my photographic memory won’t let me forget.

Tad’s back slams against the locker again.

“One day,” Rex warns. “You’ve got one day to put a stop to the rumors or I promise everyone will know exactly how much of a piece of shit you really are.”

“You can’t prove dick.”

“One word, Asshole. Cameras.”

Out of nowhere, Cooper Harris, illegitimate foster brother number one, crosses my path. He raises his eyebrows, then tilts his head towards the North stairwell. Once hidden behind closed doors, he pulls me into a hug.

I should have expected it. Even though Cooper and I share a room, I’ve barely seen him the past two days. He’s been out with some mystery girl until the wee hours of the night and I pretend to be sleeping when he crawls into bed. Yes, we share a bed because both him and Mamma T agreed I shouldn’t be left alone after what happened this summer.

Both arms wrap around me, squeezing me against his rock hard body. Cooper is the only person allowed to hug me and it takes every bit of will power I have not to shove him away when he does. I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my breath, anxious for him to let go.

One Mississippi.

Pressure in my chest builds, increasing at a devastatingly quick speed. The best way I can describe my anxiety is that I’m on an uphill climb of a rollercoaster. Only the fall from the top isn’t exhilarating, it’s damn near crippling.

I force my fingertips to touch Cooper’s back. He needs the reassurance that I’m alright. That it’s okay to hold me. It’s not. I don’t think it ever will be, but I’ll never tell him that.

Two Mississippi.

My featherlight touch seems to have done the trick. Cooper’s hold on me loosens but it’s too slow. My throat constricts, the air barely able to find my lungs. I open my mouth to speak, but the words are lost somewhere deep inside me again.

Three Mississippi.