Broken English (Broken Lives Book 1) Read Online Free

and entered the bland
room, ignoring the painting on the wall, knowing it off by heart. It depicted two
boys walking into the sea, one of them my brother—who’d painted it. It always reminded
me of that fucked up year Ash had tried to kill himself, a year I wished I
could wipe from my memory.
    “Please take a seat, Dante,” Principal Sao
said, indicating to the chair in front of his desk.
    He was sitting in a swivel chair, looking
at me with a serious expression, probably wondering how he could save me from myself.
I slumped down into the cushioned seat and looked out his window, wishing I’d
stayed in bed.
    Principal Sao pushed out of his chair and
walked around to me, seating himself on the edge of his desk, blocking my view
of the window. He was a big Samoan man who had a penchant for smart suits.
Right now he was wearing a navy-blue one, with a purple and white striped tie
over a white button-down shirt.
    He started talking, making me think of the
actor who did Darth Vader’s voice, just without the breathing problem. “I was
very disappointed to find out you were fighting with Ronald again,” he said.
    Surprised by his words, I didn’t reply, all
thoughts about Mr. Aston ratting me out gone. How’d he know? It hit me a second
later. The blonde teacher had dobbed me in. I grimaced, now annoyed with myself
for giving her my name, not to mention Happy Meal’s.
    The principal continued, “It’s the first
day of school and you two are already at it. I told you last year I won’t stand
for this nonsense anymore. If I have to, I will suspend you, Dante, regardless
of the connection I have with your family.”
    Pissed off he was blaming me, I sneered at
him, wanting to tell him he had no connection to my wh
ā
nau . He wasn’t family,
he wasn’t even M
ā
ori.
He probably thought that since he was Polynesian he could identify with me. He
couldn’t identify shit, because he hadn’t pissed blood from being beaten so
hard, hadn’t had to deal drugs just to pay the bills, or gone hungry because
his father took too many sick days due to being mentally ill. Instead, he was
what my Tongan mate called a Pālangi Poly—a white Polynesian, who’d probably grown up in East Auckland instead of
Wera’s streets.
    He shook his head at me. “I wish you would
stop fighting everyone, Dante. You need to learn to walk away.”
    I remained silent, wondering how the hell
he expected me to walk away from being jumped from behind. Then again, he was
probably trying to get me to blurt out it wasn’t my fault, twisting things to
get me to talk.
    He narrowed his eyes at me, giving me one
of his this-is-serious faces. But it wasn’t a serious matter to me. The
beating Happy Meal and his mates had handed out was nothing in comparison to
what my stepfather had done to me. This was no more than a paper cut, something
I’d forget about once the bruises disappeared. But what my stepfather had done
... I could never forget that. I just wished I could.
    Principal Sao sighed. “I can’t help you,
Dante, if you don’t talk to me.”
    “I don’t need your help,” I finally said.
“I need to be in class,” because it’s better than being here.
    He indicated to the door. “Okay. Go.”
    I pushed up and headed for the door.
    “Dante,” he said.
    I placed a hand on the door handle and
looked back at him, waiting for him to get whatever he wanted to say off his
chest.
    He pushed up from the desk, giving me one
of his soulful stares, something that I felt he’d copyrighted just for me. He
knew too much about my family, things I didn’t want anyone to know. It just
made me feel even more uncomfortable around him.
    “I know you believe that everyone thinks
you’re a bad kid, someone who’ll end up in jail,” he said, “but you’re not.
Deep down inside you’re a good kid, who would do really well if you just
applied yourself instead of creating your own personal warzone.”
    I snorted out a laugh.
    “This isn’t a joking