Page 66 of Broken Pieces
We duck behind the old incinerator, a brick wall cracked with graffiti.
Cassie drops her bag and slides down with a grunt, legs sprawled out in front of her. She digs into her hoodie pocket and pulls out a joint, holding it up like it’s holy.
I squint at her.
“Where the hell did you get that?”
Cassie sticks it between her lips and lights it, taking a long, practiced drag before grinning around the smoke.
“Gave Tyler Finch a blowjob behind the music room.”
My jaw drops.
She passes me the joint.
“And before you judge, his cock is actually impressive. I’m talking ruin-your-standards, question-everything-you-knew-about-size impressive.”
I shake my head, snorting as I sit beside her. “You’re unbelievable.”
Cassie exhales, smoke curling around her smile.
“Thank you. I try.”
She takes another hit, leans her head back against the wall, and looks over at me.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Sky?”
I blink. “Jesus. Subtle.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit answer either. I know you better than anyone. Spill.”
I stare at the gravel between my shoes, toeing a broken bottle cap like it might hold the answer.
Part of me wants to say it. Spill the whole messy truth to her.
Zane, the rooftop, the way he looked at me right before he walked away like I was something he regretted touching. The way it sits inside me now. Hollow. Dumb. Used. Even though I swore I wouldn’t let anyone do that to me again.
But the words get stuck.
Plus there’s the other thing. The louder thing.
Eighteen in two weeks. No more roof over my head unless I find one myself. And I have no fucking clue where I’m supposed to go when the clock runs out.
I scratch at the frayed knee of my jeans and say nothing.
Cassie sighs. “You’re doing that thing again. Where you shut down and pretend you’re fine until you explode or ghost me for two weeks.”
I lift a shoulder, still not looking at her.
She bumps my arm.
“Sky. Talk to me.”
I take the joint from her fingers and breathe it in, trying to stall. But the burn in my throat doesn’t drown the panic rising in my chest.
Cassie watches me, eyes narrowed like she’s already decided she’s not letting this slide.
“You gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to pull a full FBI sting? Because I swear to God, I will waterboard your ass with Mountain Dew.”
