Page 20 of Every Broken Thing

I passed Ben in the hallways a few times during the morning, but when he ignored me completely, my self-loathing doubled. He didn’t deserve my hot-and-cold behavior, and he definitely didn’t deserve my defensive, cruel words. But, in a fucked up way, it was for his own good.

Being my friend was not a great plan. It was better for us both if he didn’t get mixed up with me.

“Blondie’s watching you again,” Kim whispered across the lunch table, and I cringed as Caroline rubbernecked in excited curiosity.

“Where? Oh, there.” Caroline giggled, hiding the sound behind her palm and the curtain of her dirty blonde hair. “He’s so cute.”

“Would you stop staring?” I refused to check behind me and, instead, picked at my fries until I had a pile of smashed potato pieces in the center of my plate. “I don’t think you two could be any more creepy if you tried.”

Caroline and Kim sent me matching scowls of impatience, and my forehead met the table with a dull thud when they hurriedly returned to their gawking.

“He’s totally into you.”

Kim’s comment filled me with horror. “Um, no, he’s not.”

“He watches you all the time and stops by your locker to talk to you,” Kim countered as she licked the yogurt off her spoon. “He likes you.”

“He’s straight.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he has a girlfriend.”

This revelation brought a sour pucker to Caroline’s mouth and a frustrated line between Kim’s eyebrows. Kim brushed a black box braid out of her face as she huffed. “I’ve never seen him with anyone.”

“There were pictures in his room,” I said before I could properly ponder the wisdom of my speech. As the words left mymouth, I reached out to grab them in hopes of shoving them back down my throat, but they disappeared into the air like smoke.

“You were in his room?” They both shrieked simultaneously.

“Oh my God!” I lamented as I shoved away from the table.

My chair scraped against the tile as I stormed away, gritting my teeth against the pulsing pain in my side. I dumped the contents of my half-full tray into the garbage bin and dropped it by the kitchen window before spinning on my heels to make my escape to the bathroom. My attempt was thwarted by a tall guy with ash blond hair and glasses, and I yelped as I narrowly missed getting covered by the remaining food on his tray.

“Fucking hell, watch where you’re going!” I snarled, and Redwood Tree snorted.

“You’re the one almost running into me.” He walked around me, and I stuck my tongue out at him when he turned his back.

“Real mature,” a familiar tenor spoke from beside me, and I rounded on Ben with a vengeance.

I opened my mouth to say something inappropriate and most likely unwarranted, but he stopped me with his palm on my mouth. “I’m going to assume you’re planning on insulting me, but I’m not really in the mood,” he said dryly as he handed his tray to Groot with his free hand. “So, let’s skip the rude comments and get right to where we storm off in opposite directions.”

Annoyed that he’d robbed me of my fun, I licked his palm, and he jerked away from me with a disgusted wince as the Iron Giant laughed. “Or we can just act like we’re five.”

“I warned you,” the ashy blond said.

“Shut up, Ronnie.” Ben wiped his hand on his shirt as his friend, Ronnie, straightened his glasses with a wry chuckle.

“Well, see you two around,” I said, my tone sugar-sweet as I loped away, and both of their gazes prickled my skin as they followed my movement.

Halfway across the cafeteria, I passed a table seating a group of athletes, and an insulting jeer shot from the crowd. “Planning a faggot fuck session, Brigs?” someone said, and I paused to flit my gaze over the crowd of sniggering idiots.

My eyes landed on Jake Thompson as he leaned back in his chair, munching on an apple with a smug grin plastered on his stupid face. “Why? You wanna join?” I asked, faking sincerity. “If you say please, I might let you blow me.”

I finished my offer with a wink and a flip of my middle finger, and Jake’s face darkened. “You’ve got a huge fucking mouth, don’t you, Brigs?” he seethed, and I smirked in victory. Sometimes, they made it too easy.

“Funny, I said the same thing to your mother last night.”

A collective gasp sounded around me as he leapt to his feet, and I rolled my eyes at their hypocrisy. Sure, insinuate I organized a gay orgy without batting an eyelash, but God forbid I insult someone’s mother without it being the end of the world.

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