Broken Read Online Free Page A

Killian.”
    “We know.” The black girl bounces into her chair. “You’re late. Like weeks late. Gonna upset our balance of power.”
    I have no idea what she’s talking about. Jordan returns with water in a paper cup and presses it into my palm. Reveling in his touch, I gulp it down, just to fill the silence as everyone stares at me.
    “This is Nessa Woodring,” he introduces the black girl who waggles her fingers at me. Each fingernail is a good half-inch long and adorned with a different color, jewel, or picture. Watching her wave them is like watching a Pixar animation. “And Celina Price. They’re sophomores, like you.”
    Celina just nods, still not making eye contact.
    “Hi,” I say again, totally lame, but I have no idea what else to say.
    Nessa flounces the top half of her body across the narrow table as if prostrating herself on an altar. “So, Scarlet.” She draws out my name into three syllables. “What’s it like to die?”

8
    Nessa flattens her hand on top of mine, pinning me to the table. “Seriously. What was it like? Was there a bright light? Did it hurt?”
    “Nessa!” Jordan snaps. “Leave her alone.”
    The intensity of Nessa’s gaze pushes me back. If we had swords, she would have won the duel. I have the feeling Nessa doesn’t often lose.
    Finally, she blinks and releases me. She settles back in her chair, pulling her knees up and balancing her chin on them, suddenly smiling, a smile that would be at home on a portrait of an angel. The light brushes her hair, sparking off it as if she wears a halo. “Sorry. My mom says I have problems with being too bold and brash, or is it brusque? Probably all three. And my dad, well, he tosses around words like ‘oppositional’ and ‘defiant’ and ‘impulse control,’ but he’s a shrink, so who really listens anyway?”
    I find myself nodding in agreement, but I’m not sure who I’m agreeing with: her mom, her dad, or her dismissal of them both. It’s easy to see why she might need a little mentoring and support. Something about her feels bright yet jagged, a broken mirror glinting in the sun. But her smile is genuine and I can’t help but smile in return.
    “Anyway,” Nessa continues, turning a palm up as if offering a gift, “since you’re starting late, let me fill you in. Jordan, he’s supposed to be our mentor—the M in PMS, if you will—but mainly he sits around and says nothing. That’s probably because I do all the talking, but I’ve got a lot to process—you’ll hear all about that later.” She pauses as if expecting me to interrupt and tell her I already know who she is, but all I can do is sit there and nod as the words pour out of her faster than a freight train.
    I’m thinking her dad was right on all three accounts, but I can’t help but like Nessa. When she smiles at you, it’s with her whole body, like you’re the most important person in the world—except herself, of course. Still, there’s just this spark to her. Charisma, that’s the word for it.
    Jordan slides his hand along the tabletop. Trying to distract her long enough to get a word in. “How about if we give her some practical info instead of the Gossip Girl sound bite?”
    Nessa doesn’t even take a breath as she makes a conversational 180. “Sure. You should know that Celina here is the smartest kid in our grade. She can help you catch up. Last year, she held the ninth-grade academic achievement honor.”
    “Not for the whole year,” Celina murmurs, retreating from my nod and smile of appreciation. “Besides, things are different now, especially with my mom gone so much.”
    “But you can help, can’t you?” Nessa bounds from her chair again. Even gravity can’t restrain her for long. “And we can all introduce Scarlet to all the right folks, get her on track. Peer mentoring, support, isn’t that what we’re all here for?”
    She sounds ready to leap onto the table and lead us all in a cheer.
    Jordan sighs. He’s obviously