Page 80 of Breaking
Jenna
Monday afternoons were supposed to be uneventful. Jenna had just made herself a cup of tea, trying to shake off the remnants of the weekend when her phone rang, the sharp tone cutting through her fragile peace.
She frowned at the unknown number before answering. Within seconds, her stomach clenched.
"This is Mr. Carmichael from Dylan's school. I'm calling because Dylan was involved in a fight."
Jenna shot upright. "What? Is he okay?"
"He's bruised but mostly fine," the teacher assured her. "However, we need you to come in right away."
Her mind spun.The foster papers are barely sorted, and now this?
Jenna was already stuffing her feet into her shoes as she dialled Grace, who wasusuallynext door. The phone rang. No answer.
She stepped outside, hoping to spot her friend. "Grace?"
Nothing.
Then she remembered-Grace wasn't home today. And Jenna,of course, had neglected to get her car tire fixed after it went flat over the weekend.
She muttered a curse under her breath.Now what?
Before she could think of a plan, the sound of footsteps behind her made her shoulders tighten.
She didn't even have to turn around to know who it was.
"Do youhavean antenna for trouble or something?" she snapped, whipping around to face Troy.
His hands were in his pockets, face unreadable as he took her in. "What happened?"
Jenna let out a frustrated sigh. "Dylan got into a fight. I need to get to the school.Now."
Troy barely hesitated. He jerked his head toward his car parked down the street. "Let's go."
Jenna opened her mouth to argue. To protest. To insist she could handle this herself.
But she couldn't.
Not with her car out of commission. Not with her friendmissing in action.
She let out a slow, measured breath before muttering, "Fine."
Troy simply opened the passenger door for her, wordlessly.
And as she climbed in, she hated-hated-how relieved she felt that he was there.
Jenna found herself in the passenger seat again as Troy sped toward Dylan's school. The tension was thick enough to slice. Jenna's heart hammered with dread, imagining Dylan battered and alone, reeling from Sasha's death, the new fostering arrangement.
At the school, the principal gave them a stern look over his glasses. Dylan, scowling, sported a split lip and a bruised cheek. "We can't have fights on campus," the principal insisted. "One more incident, and he'll face suspension. He used a homophobic slur, and that's not acceptable."
Jenna's cheeks burned with shame. Dylan, slouched in a chair, spat, "He called me a faggot and said Dani's gonna end up a jarg.I only returned the favour."
Jenna inhaled sharply. The words must have cut Dylan to the quick.
Troy said nothing, though Jenna noticed the tightness in his jaw.
Once dismissed, they all walked out. Dylan glared at Troy. "Don't you have a job? Why're you even here?"
