Page 78 of Broken Pieces
I sling my backpack over one shoulder, the duffel bag over the other.
Outside my bedroom door, Dolores stands in the kitchen stirring coffee, back turned, shoulders stiff. She doesn’t lift herhead, but I’m certain she heard me. She’s got ears sharp enough to catch a whisper from three rooms away.
I stop in the hallway, fingers tightening on the strap of my bag.
The words crawl up my throat. I so desperately want to tell her she’s a shitty foster parent, tell her we’re just kids who didn’t choose this fucking life, who still ended up in this shithole where no one gives a fuck.
But what’s the point?
She’s probably already lined up the next kid to fill my bed, the next face she won’t care about.
I shift my bag higher on my shoulder and keep walking.
The front door opens without a sound. I step out without looking back.
The sky is gray, thick with rain that hasn’t fallen. The kind of morning that feels hungover.
I stand on the porch, fingers tight around my bags. The world spreads wide and empty, stretching out in every direction with nowhere to land.
I’m eighteen. Free. And nowhere to fucking go.
It’s too early for Cassie, so I walk alone.
The street’s empty, the only sound is my footsteps and the dull hit of the duffel against my leg.
By the time I reach the school gates, my shoulders burn.
People stare as I walk through. The difference is, today I don’t have the energy to glare back.
I spot Liam leaning against the fence, surrounded by his pack of brainless followers. He clocks me instantly, that shit-eating grin spreading across his face.
“Damn, Sky,” he calls out. “Are you wearing those jeans for class or to get the attention of my cock?”
The boys erupt into laughter, one letting out a drawn-out “fuuuck.”
Liam, the asshole doesn’t know when to quit.
“Bet that mouth’s good for more than mouthing off, Sky.”
More laughter. One of them mutters something about bending me over.
I keep walking. Most days, I’d say something sharp enough to make his balls shrivel. But not today.
Today, I’ve got too much weight on my back and not enough fucks left to give. He’s just noise. Ugly, empty noise.
The hallway reeks of floor cleaner and something stale trapped in the vents.
Most of the students are still outside, crowding around Liam and his pack of dickheads, hoping if they laugh loud enough, he’ll look their way.
I slip into the seat under the stairwell and drop my bags at my feet. It’s quieter here, if only for a second.
The quiet doesn’t last.
Lockers slam.
Voices blur.
The hallway fills with sound. Laughter, footsteps, someone yelling about a test.
