Page 80 of Broken Pieces
I’ve let every asshole in this place take shots at me all day.
Liam and his pack, throwing words like stones. Some girls near the lockers whispering about how I love the attention. On any other day I’d slice them open with my mouth, leave them red-faced and wishing they’d never tried.
But today I just took it.
Every jab, every laugh. Every set of eyes crawling over me.
Maybe they can see the crack in my armor.
Maybe my shoulders are broadcasting defeat. Or my silence is louder than any comeback I could spit.
Whatever it is, I wore my weakness like an exposed nerve, and every glance grazed it.
Cassie’s been on my back since third period.
Hovering. Watching. Talking as if saying it out loud solves anything. Throwing out ideas I can’t use and names I don’t trust. Listing off shelters and hotlines and other things she’s probably Googled in the middle of class while I sat there pretending the floor could open up and swallow me whole.
She means well. I know she does.
Even so, that doesn’t stop her from pissing me off.
Every word she says piles on top of me, heavier than the last. Every offer drags me further under.
I’ve told her. Over and over again that this isn’t her fucking problem. That I’m not some stray she needs to look after.
We push through the school doors and down the front steps. Cassie’s right next to me, rattling off another list of ideas, her voice tumbling over itself, desperate and fast.
I don’t even know what she’s saying anymore. I stopped listening a while ago.
There’s no couch to crash on. No shelter I trust. No family waiting at the end of the street.
Just the bag digging into my shoulder.
I keep walking, eyes fixed ahead, hoping that if I move fast enough, the world will blur and she’ll stop trying to save me.
I haven’t told her where I’m going, and she hasn’t asked. But I can feel her eyes on me, weighing every step, waiting for me to crack.
I keep my head down and finally make the choice I’ve been circling all day. I’ll sleep at the town library.
There’s a corner near the front entrance tucked out of sight, wedged between the columns and the brick wall. Half-covered. Quiet.
Not safe. But safer than a park bench.
Cassie slows the moment the library comes into view.
I sense it in the drag of her steps, the space opening up between us, the way her shoulder stops brushing mine. She keeps glancing at me, at the building, and back again.
She knows.
I keep my eyes on the pavement. One foot in front of the other. Pretend I’m just walking, anywhere, everywhere. Not scoping out a corner to sleep in. Not deciding where I’m going to disappear tonight.
“Sky,” she says.
I don’t answer her. I just keep moving forward.
She catches up with me.
“What the fuck are we doing here?”
