How to Break a Heart by Kiera Stewart Read Free Book Online

a little, and navigates around some crushed glass on the pavement. A car drives slowly by. Could it be an unmarked police car? A detective? He feels a queasy panic rise from his stomach to his throat. But it’s just a man, a regular man, who doesn’t give him a second glance.
    He takes a breath and tries to reason with himself. So he punched out a window. Okay, on school property. Okay, on government property. What’s the worst they can do? Arrest him? Maybe. Send him to juvie? Possibly. Or maybe they’d slap his family with a big, fat fine. Make them pay to replace the window. Great. Like Aunt Nora needs that.
    Everyone should be glad that it was a window he punched out, and not Nick Wainwright, who deserved it a lot more than that innocent plate of glass. It’s probably also a good thing that Nick was so amazingly clueless. That Nick hadn’t realized Thad had overheard him, that Nick hadn’t gotten a good look at him, or at least hadn’t recognized him if he did. Otherwise, he’d already be in deep stew.
    Another car heads toward him—a little blue Volkswagen bug, being driven by a blond lady with sunglasses. She smiles at him through the car window and he feels a sudden urge to impress her. He jumps on his board and does a switch stance—at least he thinks that’s what it’s called—left foot forward now. But the car drives on, and the left-foot-forward thing doesn’t feel so good. He jumps and switches back, but his ankle gives way and he hits the pavement, his injured hand suffering another blow. He’s not sure if he’s mad at himself or at the laws of gravity, but he feels a familiar stab of injustice, and gives the pavement a good stomp with his foot like a stubborn four-year-old. He’s thankful that no one is there to see his mini-tantrum, and gets back up and jumps on the board like it never happened.
    Tricks are overrated anyway,
he thinks.
So are people like Nick Wainwright.
He used to like Nick. They were on the same Little League teams back in third and fourth grades. They once went to a Star Wars revival together, Thad as Chewbacca and Nick as C-3PO. In third grade, Thad had spent the night at Nick’s; that night the cat vomited up a mouse in Nick’s bed. It was one of the greatest, most disgusting moments in each of their lives.
    But today—well, Thad wouldn’t have known words could hurt so much, especially coming out of someone he used to like. But maybe that’s why they do feel so bad. You expect stupid crap like that from other people, not from someone you used to consider a friend.
    And Nick used to be a friend.
    Used to be
. That phrase pretty much describes everything in his life.
    He can’t wait until Nick is put in his place.
    He stands up tall and sticks his hands in his pockets. Just a nice, easy, casual zip home. Okay, a little wobbly, but who cares? Why not pretend he has nothing to worry about? He makes himself look bored again. No prob. No rush.
    Except that he knows there probably is. He’s afraid to look at his phone. Not just because he’ll fall if he does, but because he’s sure he’s about fifteen minutes late. And Aunt Nora’s waiting. He feels a wave of guilt about that—he told her he’d be home. But then, a stab of annoyance. He’s thirteen—isn’t he supposed to be out having fun anyway?
    Part of him wonders what would happen if he were to just skate away into the sunset, but most of him knows that he’s headed back home. Sunsets are probably overrated, too, and anyway, it’s cloudy outside.

Mrs. N.
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    I’ve made some changes to Mabry’s article, which you’ll see in this draft.
    —
Sirina
    THE VINDICATOR
    The Official News Blog of Hubert C. Frost Middle School
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    Band Blows Hard
Gears Up for Spring Concert
    If you 1) own earplugs; and 2) have absolutely nothing better to do next Tuesday night, then please be informed that Bandemonium, the Hubert C. Frost Middle School Band, will be performing a collection of ridiculous choices