Broken English (Broken Lives Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

matter, Dante. This
year is important and I want you to treat it as such. Stop looking for fights
and concentrate on your school work, because if you applied yourself you’d pass.”
    I snorted out another laugh. “I’m gonna
flunk. All my teachers know it.”
    “It’s only you who thinks that.”
    “Tell Mr. Aston that.”
    “Okay, he’s the exception. But if you just
concentrated you’d do well, especially in English and Music. You have a stunning
voice and are great on the guitar and drums. You’re also a wonderful poet. You could
get into university if—”
    “I’m not goin’ to university,” I cut him
off, not interested in his fantasies.
    His shoulders slumped, the man appearing
to deflate at my words. I didn’t know what he expected from me, especially
since he knew no one in my family had ever amounted to anything, other than
ending up in the newspapers for committing some sort of crime. Or worse, being
a statistic like my mother, my stepfather having murdered her.
    Wishing I wasn’t his pet project, I
disappeared out his door and headed back to my maths class. As I walked down
the corridor, my mind shifted to the English teacher, angry with her for
ratting me out. I’d planned on going light on her, just a bit of teasing and
flirting, nothing serious, since I liked the idea of having something pretty to
look at during class. But now there was no way I was going to play nice. And
like with any other rat, she was going to get what was coming to her.
     

 
     
    3
    CLARA
    The staffroom at lunchtime was
considerably quieter than the outside mayhem of the school grounds, a caffeinated
oasis devoid of teenagers. Although I’d managed to get through my first classes
without too much trouble, it had been hard work. Some of the students had taken
it upon themselves to see how far they could push me. I had to tell off quite a
few, mostly boys, whose wolf whistles and comments about my looks weren’t
appreciated.
    I glanced to my right as I poured a cup of
coffee, noticing two male teachers eyeing me up, their gazes not that
dissimilar to the male students. I knew what they saw: a good-looking woman in
her early twenties, with defined cheekbones and full lips. The only thing I lacked
was height, which they didn’t appear to care about. The shorter of the two dropped
his gaze as soon as he noticed me looking, while the other one continued to
stare, seemingly unconcerned he’d been caught out.
    Feeling uncomfortable, I finished filling
my cup and headed for a table the furthest away from him, smiling at the
thirty-something woman sitting behind it. She was slightly overweight, frumpy
closer to the mark, and colourfully dressed, her thick-rimmed glasses matching
her red cardigan. She also had a head full of soft black ringlets, which looked
like her pride and joy.
    I placed a hand on the chair across from
her. “Can I sit here?”
    Nodding, she swallowed what she’d been chewing
on and put the rest of the sandwich down on her plate. Rising to her feet, she
held out a hand for me to shake. “You must be the new English teacher,” she
said, smiling at me.
    “Yes,” I replied, noticing mayonnaise smeared
across her thumb.
    She glanced down at it. “Oops, sorry, I’m
such a messy eater.” She quickly wiped her hand on a tissue and extended it
again.
    “No worries,” I said, shaking it. “I’m Clara
Hatton.”
    “Nice to meet you, Clara. I’m Beverly
Torino.” She let go of my hand and spread her arms out wide. “Welcome to my
humble abode.”
    I smiled, finding her quirky. “What do you
teach?” I asked, guessing her to be an art or drama teacher.
    She tucked a ringlet behind her ear. “Drama.”
    I mentally patted myself on the back at my
correct guess.
    She indicated to the far corner of the
staffroom. “Tall, red, and handsome over there is another drama teacher. He’s
the head of my department.”
    I glanced over my shoulder, spotting the
man she was talking about. He was the one who’d