Beautifully Broken by Sherry Soule Read Free Book Online Page A

play—or torment—any freaking time they wanted. One common denominator unified the various shadows entering our world—malevolence.
    And they had another thing in common…an attraction to me.
    “Shiloh, I need to speak to you,” Mr. Hall bellowed over the ringing bell. Chattering students grabbed their backpacks and textbooks and pushed their way past one another into the corridor.
      I lingered until the room cleared, then walked to his desk. “Mr. Hall?”
      “Yes, concerning your essay.” He shuffled papers and organized his books, searching the pile on his desk. “Ah ha! Found it.” He lifted a piece of binder paper from a plastic tray labeled Homework. “Now, regarding your composition on a teenager’s biggest fears, I assumed you understood that this assignment was nonfictional prose.”
    Grimacing, I said, “Was it? My bad.”
      “Yes.” His eyes scanned the page. “You wrote your essay on Achluophobia. Although, I’ll admit a paper on phobias, especially on a fear of the dark, was interesting, I wanted real, honest pieces regarding fears that pertained to your future.”
    “Sorry.” I licked my glossed lips, dry tongue catching on the thick gloss I’d applied earlier, when I’d hoped to see Trent. “Do you want me to do the assignment over?”
    He rubbed his chin. “No, it was well written and convincing for a fiction piece. Next time try taking notes and stop fidgeting so much in class.”
    I backed away, shoving my books into my backpack. “Yes, sir. Thanks!”
    I trudged through the rest of my classes, ignoring the giggling Trendies, finally making it to lunch. I opened the heavy steel doors to the cafeteria and walked in, holding my head high. There, the waft of greasy fried foods and overcooked burgers assaulted my nostrils. Someone bounced a basketball against the wall. Over the rumble of laughter and conversation, I heard people talking about Trent Donovan as I walked through the room. Trendies , a mesh of preps and jocks, were flocked in one corner with trays of food they bought but never ate and were gushing over the summer style edition of Seventeen magazine. The chess club huddled in another corner, dressed in slacks and button-down shirts. Skinny emo kids with their colorfully dyed hair and black apparel appeared bored. And the slackers in their wrinkled clothes, scattered throughout in small groups, held that defiant and jaded look. Cafeterias were the nexus that brought cliques together—the epitome of high school life.
    I sat at the lunch table with my friends, the social indefinite kids, opened my paper sack, and removed my sandwich. My friend Paige Jones came over with her tray and squeezed in next to me, then squealed when Jada Martin plopped her tray on the table and shoved us all down further on the bench. Jada’s long cotton skirt rustled when she sat and crossed her high-top sneakers. Paige glared, but Jada just grinned. Ariana already seated across from us, laughed and took a bite from her veggie burger.
    “Have you seen the new guy in town?” Jada pushed her cherry-dyed ringlets off her shoulders and propped her elbows on the table. Her smooth caramel skin, a mix of Spanish and African American ancestry, made Ariana, sitting across from her, look white as snow in comparison. Jada’s complexion always seemed to glow, even after the long, sunless seasons that turned others into grey ghosts. Unlike me with my perpetual tan skin.
    I turned toward Paige on my left. “What’s she babbling about? Wait. Did she forget she already has a boyfriend?” My eyes met Jada’s amaretto stare, and I winked.
    “Trent Donovan—duh. He could make anyone forget,” Ariana said with a laugh.
    “Now, if you’d been lucky enough to get a glimpse of his hot-self,” Paige said, taking a bite of her burger and dripping ketchup on her pleated blue chiffon blouse. “Then you’d be salivating like most of the girls in the school. Hey! I wonder if he’s on Facebook.” She pulled