Page 10 of Every Broken Thing

Kim and Caroline giggled, clasping hands across the tabletop, and I groaned, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me.

“He’s probably just trying to get a good view of the violent queer that everyone’s talking about,” I muttered darkly.

I couldn’t tell them the actual reason Ben was watching me. I could never live with the shame.

Pushing away from the table, I stood and stuffed my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “I’m not hungry, and I have to talk to Acker about what I missed Friday and Saturday.”

“Yeah, where were you?” Kim asked.

“Sick,” I said shortly.

I waved in farewell and headed toward the theater classroom by the auditorium. As I left the cafeteria, the prickling sensation of being watched skittered over my back. Against my better judgment, I glanced over my shoulder. I met a pair of worried blue eyes attached to a stunning face, and I shifted my gaze away quickly, only to freeze under the dark glare of Eric Boyt.His dark eyes speared right through me, an evil smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, and I wanted to cower. His eyes said it all: they promised retribution, the kind that only came in the form of blood and pain.

I was completely and utterly fucked!

4

Zombie Parasite

Sitting in my sociologyclass, I traced a curse word carved into the wood surface of my desk. The two-minute bell had rung, and only stragglers were filtering into the classroom from the hall. On the eighth time tracing the letterT, familiar spring soap tickled my nose, and I stiffened, head snapping up. I tracked Ben as he walked past me, his blue eyes meeting my gray ones. I scowled at him. He smirked.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath.

With a snort of amusement, he lowered himself into the desk beside mine. “I’m not stalking you or anything. I’ve been in this class since the beginning of the semester.”

“Whatever. That’s not your desk, you know?”

“We don’t have a seating chart.”

My response was an unintelligible grumble that would have been witty and amazing in the face of anyone else. Unfortunately, Ben had a knack for unbalancing me, and my brain blanked, leaving me stranded without a good comeback.

Slouching in my desk, I spent the entire class period vacillating between ignoring Ben’s presence beside me and shooting him the stink eye. He didn’t seem bothered by the former, but he found the latter amusing, his dimple peeking out every time I deigned to look at him.When he passed me a worksheet, our fingers brushed, and a traitorous thrill shot up my arm. I glared extra hard at him for that, but he simply grinned at me, like my irritation was endearing.

The moment the bell rang, I bolted from my seat and fled the room. I power-walked to my locker and filled my backpack with homework before heading to rehearsal. Going against my normal routine, I waited around for Kim, Caroline, Harris, and Jordan after rehearsal and accompanied them on their walk to the parking lot. I was too scared to traverse the hallways alone, but I would take that truth to my grave.

My dad was home when I pulled into the driveway, and I parked my truck behind his SUV as I gathered my wits about me. Our relationship was complicated, and though part of me wanted to tell him what had happened, I couldn’t. I didn’t think either of us was strong enough for that. Plus, saying it aloud made it real; I didn’t want it to be real. Life was easier that way.

When I walked into the house, I kicked off my shoes as someone shuffled around in the kitchen. Leaning against the doorway, I watched Dad mutter to himself as he tried and failed to cook. I should have offered him assistance, but I chose to watch as the steam rising from the pot turned from gray to black.

“Well, for Pete’s sake,” he huffed, and I snorted, bringing attention to my presence as he turned to face me.

He was taller than me, but other than our weight and obvious age difference, I was nearly an exact replica of him. We had the same dark hair, his streaked with silver at the temples, and the same gentle slope to our noses. His eyes were brown, a color he’d passed to my brother Will, but the shape of them matched mine.He had thick eyebrows and a firm jawline that gave his face a fierceness mine lacked.

As his dark eyes traveled over me, I dropped my backpack on the floor, and he gave me a tired smile. “Silas, there you are.” He glanced at his watch, which was ever-present on his wrist—a gift from his dad, who’d died before I was born. “You’re home later than I thought.”

“Rehearsal,” I reminded him.

“Right.”Nodding, he rubbed the back of his neck as he turned back to the stove. “I think this is still edible, if you’re hungry.”

“No, thanks.” Approaching warily, I peeked into the pot and grimaced at the solid block of burned noodles. “I’m not hungry.”

His neck darkened in a blush. “Eh, don’t blame you. Probably a wise choice.”

An awkward silence fell over us, and I chewed on my cheek before giving him a half-hearted wave. “Well, I’ve got homework.”

“Silas,” he called out as I made to leave the kitchen, and I paused in retrieving my book bag. “Feeling better?”

His concern warmed my chest, and I nodded, attempting a smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Just tired.”

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