Page 2 of Broken Pieces

The boy on the left stands with his feet apart and hands lazily in his pockets, whilst his twin keeps his back straight, but tilts his head every time he smiles.

They whisper something to each other again and this time they share a look. It goes on for way too long, like they’re having an entire conversation in their heads.

After a while, I feel awkward staring, like I’m invading their privacy and I make myself look away.

Reginald, my soon to be stepdad, looks more and more frustrated with every minute that passes.

He looks over at me, like I’ll be able to tell him where Mom is, but hell if I know.

She could be throwing a fit about some tiny detail of her makeup being wrong or off blowing some random guy.

I keep out of her business and she keeps out of mine. It’s how it’s always been with us and it’s the only way we haven’t killed each other,yet.

All I can do is offer him a small smile that hopefully gives him some reassurance. He seems like a nice enough guy so what he’s doing with my mom, I have no idea.

When the doors finally open, all eyes are on Mom in her white fishtail gown, which looks like it cost more than a year's rent in our last home.

As she walks ridiculously slowly down the aisle, everyone’s attention is glued to her, but I can still feel the heat of two sets of eyes on me.

I don’t dare look back at the twins.

Since I have to live with them from now on, I want them to like me. The last thing I need is to get on their bad side.

I'm having to start over in another new town and school, so I already feel like such an outsider. I can’t imagine being able to find a way in with them. They already have such a tight-knit, familial bond and I’m sure that won’t ever include me.

“We wondered where you were hiding.”

Two pairs of black, shiny shoes stop in front of me and my stomach knots as I know exactly who they belong to.

I’d managed to avoid socializing since arriving at my new home after the ceremony this morning. As soon as the car pulled up, I jumped out and found a quiet study far away from the drone of the fancy quartet Mom picked to play. The classics I like come from the pages of a book not from shiny brass instruments.

Seems my peaceful reading time is over.

When I look up from my book, the twins are staring down at me. They’ve lost their suit jackets and ties, making them look slightly less standoffish.

One of them has his shirt fully untucked, with the top three buttons loose and his previously neatly coifed hair is now a ruffled mess. His brother remains tightly buttoned up, but his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows.

I place my book down on my lap and unbuttoned guy bends down to pick it up.

“You’re reading at a party?” He snorts.

“It’s a wedding, full of old rich people, it’s not a party,” I bite back, reaching up for my book, but he holds it out of reach.

“Want to make it one?” He raises an eyebrow at me.

“Mad, don’t,” the other twin says sternly.

Mad?

“Maddox?” As I get to my feet, I look up at the twin with one hand in his pocket as he reads a page of my book.

“Romeo and Juliet, weren’t they cousins? Kinky,” he mocks and I try to snatch it back, but his stupidly long limbs keep it out of reach.

“No, that’s not true. Hey, what the hell?”

Maddox slips it into his back pocket and smirks. “You can have it back later, it’s party time first.”

“What my brother means is we’re going to hang out upstairs, if you want to join us?” There's a softness to Max's voice that I wasn't expecting.

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