Broken (The Outsiders Series) (2 page)

2

“Excuse me ma’am,” I say as I push into the front doors of Mason County High School. “Do new students register here?”

The woman behind the counter looks up at me. She’s got dark curly hair that stops at her shoulders and a kind smile. “Yes, dear, but where are you
r parents? I need their signatures.”

“They wanted me to come inside and do this on my own so that I could increase my independence or something like that,” I lie. I bite my lower lip afterwards, feeling bad. I’m not the lying type. I’ve been lied to too much to lie. But this is the only way I’m going to get anywhere in this small town – lies. And a lot of them.

The woman smiles and looks into my eyes. She trusts me; I can see that by the way her blue eyes push into my dark ones. “How old are you? And what’s your name, darling?” She looks down at the computer on her small desk. Her hands are resting on the keyboard in front of her.

“I’m Carter, m
a’am. And I’m eighteen,” I say as I lean on the counter in front of me.

“You a senior, Carter?” She’
s still typing when she asks me but looks back up when I don’t answer right away.

“No, m
a’am, I’m a junior.” I rub the back of my head, embarrassed about this for the first time. No one cared at my other school but I knew everyone there.

The woman bites her lower lip. She’s wearing this dark red lipstick that smears as she does this. “Carter, I’m going to have to look at your transcripts to see what grade you failed. Do your parents have those in the car?”

I shake my head. “Ma’am, I’ve never failed a grade.” I sigh, steeling myself for telling her what happened. “My mom didn’t enroll me in time. She was too busy working, and she just forgot.” The truth is that she didn’t forget at all; she just didn’t see the point in sending me to kindergarten. When she tried to enroll me in first grade the next year, the women in the office laughed at her stupidity, and I was pushed into kindergarten.

“Well, Carter, I’m sorry to hear what happened to you and your mom. I suppose it won’t hurt to ignore that part, then.” She looks up again and offers a knowing look.

“My home life is better now that things have changed, ma’am. And coming here will help me too.” I smile at her to push my point further, and when she smiles back, I know I’ve done my job.

“Well, Carter, all I need is your last name and signature. Since you’re eighteen, I don’t need your parent’s signature. Just a driver’s license to prove it. Sound good?”

I nod and pull out my wallet. I probably needed to get my driver’s license updated to my new address soon. Although, it might make it easier for Jack and my mom to find me here. And I don’t want that. “My last name is Daniels,” I add when I hand the woman the card.

“All right, Mr. Daniels. All you need to do is wait h
ere,” she says as she rolls her chair back and stands up. “I’ve got to go get your schedule set up and all. You can sit in one of those chairs over there,” she says as she points to two chairs in the corner of the office.

I nod and sit down. I pick up one of the magazines and open it while I wait. I read two
of them before the woman comes back into the room. She moves behind her desk and staples some papers before putting them in a folder. Then, she starts humming and clicking things on her computer.

“Now here,” she says as she
bends down to pick up something off the printer, “is your new schedule. Here at Mason County, we do what’s called block scheduling; this means that you take four classes a semester, for a total of eight classes a year. Your first class, World History, is in the science wing.” She pulls out a map that shows the building and all of its rooms. The school is shaped like a figure eight. There are labeled wings, with the electives wing in the center of the school, right behind the office.

“Then, you’ve got Chemistry in the science wing as well. Third class is always lunch,” she adds as she points to a separate building on the outside of the figure eight. “And your fourth and fifth classes are part of the literature wing.”

I nod, noting that I’ll only be using half of the school this semester. The science and literature wings are essentially the same wing; it’s just split in half. “Thank you, Ma’am. I truly appreciate all your help this morning.”

“No problem, Carter. All you need to do is stop by the Principal’s Secretary’s desk before leaving. Principal Wiggins likes to spea
k with all of his new students. It’s just that way,” she says as she points down a hall that moves further into the main office. “Just follow the blue carpet, darling.”

I do as the woman says, even though everything inside of me tells me not to. I don’t want to be
triumphant out there, only to be caught in a lie in here. Principals don’t tend to like me much. It’s like they can tell that I’m damaged or something. And I don’t need Principal Wiggins to see right through my disguise.

“Clare,” shouts a man’s voice from up ahead. Great, so Principal Wiggins is a man. That makes it even better.

“Yes, Mr. Wiggins,” says a short, large woman as she stands up and moves around the front of her desk. She waddles into Principal Wiggins’ office.

“
I need you to get the deputy on the line, Ms. Clare. I feel as though those football junkies are using steroids again.”

Ms. Clare pulls in a deep breath and nods her head before turning around and waddling back out. She stops when she sees me standing there and stares. Then, she breaks out in a friendly smile and moves to sit behind her desk. The chair squeaks as she settles down, and I have a feeling it’s protesting. “May I help you, young man?” she asks me.

“Yes, Ma’am. My name is Carter Daniels and I just enrolled. The woman out there asked me to come back to meet Principal Wiggins. Is he busy?”

“Oh, no. He’s never too busy to speak with a student, Carter. Just walk on in there, all right?”

I nod and move into the office. It’s big, with a large wooden desk and bookshelf. Tons of books about troubled students, student achievement, and test scores line the shelf. Principal Wiggins sits behind his desk. He has glasses, short hair, and a large nose. His eyes are kind, but they also make me think of someone that doesn’t know what’s really going on. However, his tan suit makes him look powerful enough. And it does fit nicely. Which means he has money to spend. I’m not sure if he’ll like me.

“Ah, Mr. Daniels, I suppose you heard the conversation between Ms. Clare and me?” He leans forward and continues before I can answer. “Don’t speak a word of it.
” He leans back again and gestures for me to join him. He holds his hand out for my schedule and looks at it before continuing. “Your schedule seems fine, Mr. Daniels. However, note that we have a strict dress code at Mason County. We do not allow ripped jeans.”

“Yes,
sir. I understand.”

“Now I know it’s the fashion but you just can’t wear those around here. They are not professional or presentable, and they distract. Do you understand me?
And” he adds before I can answer – a second time – “we do not allow bubble gum, cell phones or music devices. Lastly, we only accept academic excellence, Mr. Daniels.”

I nod again.

Principal Wiggins leans forward. “I’ve kicked students out before, Mr. Daniels. Warn your parents that if you cause me any trouble, I will do it again. And I won’t hesitate to keep this school a caring and safe environment for all of my students. Do you understand me, Mr. Daniels? No shenanigans here.”

I press my lips together to keep from smiling and manage another nod in his direction. He accepts it and stands up with a clap of his hands.

“Thank you for speaking with me, Principal Wiggins. Have a nice afternoon,” I say as I step out of his office. He replies with a grumble, probably because he’s focused on those steroids now. When I make it back out to where the first woman sits, I stop. “Can you tell me what class I should go to?” I ask.

The woman looks up from her paperwork. She glances at the time and
then looks at a schedule in front of her. “You will be headed toward your second class, Carter. The bell will ring in a few moments so you will have time to find your way around before the bustle of the crowd.”

I thank her and walk outside with my schedule and map. I look at it, reading it and memorizing it, before I toss it into the trashcan nearest me. I don’t need to look like someone that doesn’t know where they’re going. They will know I’m new anyway. First, I’ve got on my ripped jeans. Second, they have never seen me before.
No need to make it worse by carrying around a map of the school.

I turn left and head toward the science building as the bell rings. Students push
their way out of their classes and rush into the hallway. A lot of the guys are wearing collared shirts and loafers. The girls all wear dresses or skirts. This place really is professional. And as I continue moving down the hallway, I look at the tanned legs and high heels that walk in front of me. Aren’t they freezing? I guess I shouldn’t care, because I get to look at them all now – all year round.

Next thing I notice are the books. There are no backpacks or messenger bags. And kids are pushing to get to their lockers so that they can trade books and notebooks. Some are even grabbing goggles. I guess I’ll have to rent a locker at some point. No one wants to carry goggles around all day, and since I’m taking Chemistry, I’m sure I’ll have some goggles.

“You lost?” purrs a voice behind me. I turn to see a short girl. She has pink hair that is flat against her head, and matching pink lipstick. She smiles up at me and presses her arms together so that I can look down her shirt. Stupid whore.

“I think I can find my way,” I say before looking away. I lift my foo
t to take a step, but she clears her throat to speak once more. So I turn around and wait.

She smiles again
and this time I see that her eyes are an impossible shade of blue. Those have to be fake. Which means that her boobs are probably fake. And that all adds up to one enormous, fake personality. “You’re new. Let me show you around.” She reaches out to grab my schedule from me. I have to stop myself from snatching it back out of her tiny hand. “Oh,” she squeals, “You’re going to Chemistry with Ms. Davis. You must be a junior then, Carter.” She looks back up at me, proud of herself for finding my name on the schedule. “I’m Candy,” she adds as she holds her hand out expectantly. “And I’m an experienced sophomore.”

I roll my eyes at her but stick my hand out and shake hers. I can’t do two rude things to her. “I bet you are,” I say as I reach over to take my schedule back. “Too bad I’m not interested in your expertise.”

She pokes her lower lip out, not caring that I insulted her. “You’re different, Carter. I’m curious. What’s up with you?” She tilts her head to the side and I stifle another eye roll. Will she leave me alone?

“My past must have been different than yours, Candy. That’s all.” I offer a fake smile and turn to go. Next thing I know, she’s walking next to me
, practically rushing to keep up with my larger strides.

“My class is right across from Ms. Davis, so I can meet you afterwards. We can walk to the lunchroom together.” She smiles up at me. And I can’t find it in myself to be mean.

“I think that would be fun, Candy. But don’t try anything. It isn’t gonna happen with us. Let’s just be friends. Okay?” I stop and look at her seriously, willing her to understand that I’m not joking.

She looks down and shrugs. “Your loss, Carter. You’ll hear about me later.”

This time, I roll my eyes. “See you later,” I manage. Then, I turn away without waiting for her reply. She is psycho.

I’m almost at the door when someone puts his arm around my shoulders. “Dude, you could
’ve had the best five minutes of your life with that girl. Why’d you skip out? Scared? Insecure?” He lets me go and punches my arm softly.

I push my way into the classroom. “Who says it’ll only be five minutes?” I ask.

A group of guys near the door start laughing and one of them points at me. “Hey, kid, you’re not bad,” he says as he reaches over the desk to shake my hand. “I’m Ryan but the ladies call me Love Machine,” he sings as he gestures with his hands.

I laugh with them and scan the table. There are three guys in front of me. Two have dark hair and one has light hair. The kid that thinks the girls call him Love Machine, Ryan, has dark eyes and a kind smile for someone that’s so vain.

“Thanks for letting me shake your hand before you started touching yourself,” I say jokingly. The guys laugh again, and one of them pulls a chair from another table so that I can join theirs. Against my better judgment, I sit down. The bell rings a moment later, and in walks Ms. Davis.

“Now class, today we’ll be taking notes on balancing equations. We will do a few practice problems together. Then, you’ll be working with your table partners. Do you have any questions?”

Ryan raises his hand. “We’ve got a new student, Ms. Davis, and I’ll be the first to say that he’s pretty awesome. Can he work with the guys and me?”

Ms. Davis sighs. She bites the inside of her plump cheek, thinking. As she does this, I take a moment to look at her. She’s older, probably about fifty or so, and she has flecks of grey in her black hair. She’s wearing nice clothes, but when I look down at her shoes, I flinch. She’s wearing Crocs, just like the science teacher at my other school. It must be something about science.
“Ryan, I’m sure that you’ll behave and help this young man, then. Or else,” she says warningly. Then, she turns to address the rest of the class. “Take out paper and pencil. We’ve got a PowerPoint today, kids.”