Broken (The Outsiders Series) (7 page)

Just then,
Colton comes from the middle of the dance floor, where he was just humping Anne Marie. He’s all sweaty and he already can’t walk in a straight line. “Hey,” he says as he tosses his arm around my shoulder, “I’m glad y’all could make it on time. We just got started,” he says to us all. Then he turns to Lane and Brooke. “The girls are on the dance floor now if you two want to join them. They’ve been waiting on you two all night. Apparently, there’s some gossip,” he says to them. The girls rush off, too excited to say anything more to us. And we’re just left with the cups. And Colton.

I look at him, noticing his blonde hair and blue eyes. He matches Ann
e Marie a little too perfectly. I guess that’s the way all popular couples look. And he’s built, but not like Todd, who looks like he works out. Colton just looks like he swims.

“Here,” he says as he
reaches out, takes the empty cups, and tosses them in a trash can. “Now let’s leave the girls to their dancing. It’s time for some bro time, gentlemen.” He throws his arms around us again – but I’m starting to get used to it – making sure to slosh the rest of the beer in his cup so that it ends up on Ryan’s shirt. And then, he leads us outside on the deck, where Todd is waiting. Ryan immediately freezes up. I can tell that he doesn’t want to do this right now, and I don’t blame him. I pull away from Colton’s arm and move in front of him.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

Colton’s eager look turns into annoyance. “We’ve been together longer than you could ever know, Carter. They need to work on their friendship, man. And you don’t need to barge on in like you own us.” His normal friendliness takes a turn toward the crazy and he steps forward. 

“I don’t act like I own you,” I
argue. “But I’m going to be someone’s friend for real. I’m not gonna fake it and betray them.”

Todd
gets closer to us. “What?” he asks me in his deep voice. “You come around for three days and you steal my best friend. Don’t talk about being real friends.”

I turn, looking from Colton to Todd. Crap. How did I get myself in the middle of this mess? Then again, I knew that popularity had its drama. Even the guys are possessive of their junk.

And I don’t mind fighting. But two on one isn’t fair.

But Ryan steps forward and
throws down the first thing he finds. The beer bottle smashes on the ground and shatters. “You stole Katie from me, so don’t you talk about stealing things,” he says to Todd. “And Colton’s right, we go way back. So it’s okay for Carter to steal from you. He doesn’t know you. But you stole from me, jackass, and that’s not cool – considering we go way back, I wouldn’t have expected it from you. So stop blaming Carter. He didn’t do it or cause this. And it doesn’t matter how hard Todd tried to convince you, Colton.” He stops there and pulls in a deep breath to calm himself down. “You were wrong,” he says before he turns around and starts walking away from us.

I turn to follow him but Todd tries to grab my arm. I pull away easily, and Todd starts to laugh at me while he does some fake boxing moves. “Come on, Carter. Let’s do this. Come on, man. Do you think you can take me? I’m on the wrestling team, and I will kick your punk ass, Carter
Daniels. And your rich folks won’t be able to save you.” His voice starts getting louder, and I can feel my anger swelling in my chest. The power of it burns like a flamethrower. He deserves what he gets with me.

I’m about the throw the first punch when Ryan pulls me back. “Don’t,” he says. “They’re just looking for a way to press charges on you.”

That clears my head. And I glance back once more before heading on inside. I need a distraction, and the first thing I see is Lane. She’s standing off to the side, with a fresh cup of beer in her hand. I walk up to her and pull her on the dance floor. She laughs and shoves her cup on a table before she puts her arms around my neck. She pushes her slender body against me, and I can feel her small curves under the thin material of her dress. “Carter,” she whispers, “you’re so hot when you’re like this. It makes me feel like you need me.” She leans forward and clings onto my chest as she pulls my shirt to get me closer to her.

I smile at her and lower my hands until they’re around her hips. We dance for a little while before she pulls away. She drags me back to her beer, and I watch her chug it – somehow it’s hot, even though it’s desperate.

“Come,” she whispers. “Let’s go outside. There’s a little gazebo where we can sit and talk and make out some.” She pulls me out there, and I let her take me.

When we get there she waits until I sit down. Then she lifts her dress and straddles me. I let her sit on my lap
and kiss my neck. Leaning back, I enjoy the sensation it gives me. Then, I pull her mouth up to mine and kiss her until the anger leaves my skin. It’s not right, using Lane like that. And I’ll apologize to her tomorrow or tonight. But I can’t get myself in trouble this soon.

We stay out there for a while, but when she starts to pull the straps off her shoulders, I tell her to stop. She protests for a minute, telling me she wants me, but I hold my ground until she stands up. Her lower lip sticks out and I can tell I’ve hurt her feelings and all.

She looks down at me and sighs. “I’m not too drunk, Carter. You aren’t taking advantage of me, okay? You’re hot.”

“And that’s a good enough reason?” I ask her angrily.

She flinches a little bit, and I feel bad for yelling.

This time I sigh. “Look, Lane, I’m sorry but I’m not that kind of guy.”

She looks up through her long, fake lashes and a smile crosses her lips. Great. I think she likes me more than before. For some reason, I wasn’t doing this thing right at all. Especially since I don’t want her to like me. “You’re a good guy, Carter. And a great kisser too. But I’m not interested in anything serious. I like you but I’m not allowed to have a boyfriend.” She blushes, and I can tell she’s telling me the truth right now.

“But you sleep with guys. Isn’t that what your parents are trying to avoid?”

Lane shrugs. “My dad left my mom a couple years ago. She told me never to fall in love, that it ruins everything. She bought me some birth control and told me not to get too attached to any guy.”

I wrinkle my brow. “Seriously?” I ask her.

She looks up, staring at something in front of us. She shrugs again.

“That’s messed up,” I say.

“I was fourteen at the time,” Lane argues. “I didn’t really know any better. It was the end of eighth grade year, and I was just ready to be in high school and be popular. I lost my virginity to the football captain of the varsity team that year. After that, it just kind of became a game to me.”

Why does everyone come to me with their problems?

“You’re a virgin,” she says a moment later. “I can tell and don’t worry about it, Carter. I won’t tell anyone.”

“But why not?” I ask her. “You could use it against me or something. Isn’t that what all of you girls do anyway? Conquer us guys.”

Lane laughs but grows serious almost immediately. “Some do. But some of us are also real.”

“Like you, I’m guessing.”

She sits down and leans her head against my shoulder. “Me and you,” she says as she closes her eyes. “Will you stay with me?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I answer as I lean my head back and settle in for a long night. But we just sit there and talk some more. She tells me about how her dad cheated on her mom with a girl that was only a couple years older than she was. That’s how it always happens, and I just can’t understand it.

Mostly, I just listened. I didn’t tell her about my lies. I didn’t plan on opening up to her. No, she would forget most of this conversation in the morning, and she would go back to her normal, popular self. And I would be left with the knowledge of her imperfect past. The understanding of who she is and why.

7

Monday hits me like a brick wall, and I’m sitting in Creative Writing, trying to answer all of the questions for Vandelya. Making up answers seems to be worse than actually answering them, and Jeremy can tell that something is up with me, because he keeps looking over at what I’m doing. He doesn’t say anything, though, and I’m glad because he might get yelled at for no reason.

When the bell rings, I head down to the library. Mr. Preston caught me in the hall after lunch. He asked me how far we had gotten, and since we were still behind, he wanted us to meet in the library again. I didn’t really think that was fair, but I dealt with it. It gives me the time to actually talk to her. Since I’ve got her alone, I’m going to try to do what Mrs. Marshall said. I’m going to find out the truth.

“Is she here yet?”
I ask Mrs. Marshall as I rush in.

She looks up from her desk and presses her finger in front of her lips. She waits until I apologize and ask again to answer. She shakes her head. “Not yet. Why don’t you go back and wait for her. I’ll tell her that you’re here.”

I sigh but head back there anyway. I sit at the same table we sat at and finish writing my answers. Then, I read up on what the next section is. Crap. We have to interview each other to find answers to questions we want to know about the other person. We have to choose something in common between us. We have to choose a song that defines both of us and then we have to play it for the class, along with a presentation that defines the other person. Crap. We can’t fake this stupid thing at all. But that’s what he wanted. He wanted us to discover who we are, by discovering someone new. And even though you might know someone for a long time, you find out that you really don’t know them at all.

A second later, Vandelya puts her stuff down on the table. She doesn’t sit, though. And when I glance down at my watch, I notice that she’s thirty minutes late. “I was doing something important,” she says as she runs her fingers through her dark hair. She swallows then sits down quickly, like she’s forcing herself to.

“You don’t have to be scared,” I say. “I won’t yell at you today.” I look up into her green eyes and notice that there are flecks of gold and brown there. And she’s got this small nose and pink lips. Her lashes are longer than most girls’ are, but she walks with her shoulders hunched over and her head down. There is something going on here.

She nods once and it forces me to stop staring at her. She looks down then but doesn’t smile or talk to me. She doesn’t do anything.

“I finished the questions,” I say to avoid the silence. “Do you just want to trade them?” I ask.

She answers by handing me her answers. I glance over the paper. Her favorite color is blue. Her favorite TV show is
True Life
on MTV, and her favorite movie is
The Freedom Writers
or anything about impossible things, like dragons or unicorns.

“What is
The Freedom Writers
about? And do you really like dragons?” I ask.

She takes a deep breath. She bites her lower lip and I start to look down. I don’t think she’s going to talk to me at all. But just when I lose faith, she opens her mouth.
“
The Freedom Writers
is about a troubled group of kids that push stereotypes and differences aside to create friendships. But it all happens because they write and share journal entries. And, yes, I like dragons. What’s wrong with that?”

“You don’t seem like someone that would like dragons.”

Vandelya shrugs. “You don’t seem like someone that would like Anne Marie and her gang, but you do.”

I put her paper down. “What is up with you and Anne Marie? And why did it add up to the whole school?”

Vandelya shakes her head. “I don’t really feel like talking about that right now. Let’s just finish up what we’re doing.”

“Vandelya, come on.”

She shakes her head, her green eyes staring into mine. “Don’t ask me, Carter. Just do me that favor. Okay?”

“Okay,” I reply. “Whatever.”

She reaches forward and takes my paper from me. “Green. SpongeBob.
Crash
?”

“It’s more like an independent film and stuff. It’s actually about racism and stereotypes and mistakes that people make.”

“Sounds interesting,” she says as she checks the movie title off. “Now it says that you were born in Atlanta. And you’re eighteen.” She stops while she reads my explanation of my age and grade. She looks up. “Sorry about that,” she says. “It must be cool to do those things, but it would be nice to be in the right grade. Why didn’t she just home school you or something? It would have been easy, I’d think.”

“She was too busy working and stuff, and they didn’t count the tutor I had.” Wow. That’s a new lie. I guess I shouldn’t blame her for keeping quiet. But some of the stuff is true. I can’t lie about my favorite color or movie or show, and I can’t lie about the weird feeling in my chest right now.

“Your favorite place to go is Italy?” she asks a second later. Her voice is disbelieving. “I can’t believe you went to Rome and stuff.”

I shrug. “It’s nice over there.”

“Just nice? There’s so much history and architecture over there. Shakespeare and Romeo and Juliet, and the famous canals of Venice.” Great, she knows more about Italy than I do. And I’ve been there. Apparently.

“Well your favorite place is,” I start to say. Then I look down at the paper. “Wait, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

“I don’t know,” she answers. “You can’t just put the name down. There isn’t a name anyway. It’s just a small pond.” So that’s why she was there that day. It’s her favorite place in the world. And I wonder why it is. Why that pond?

“Can you take me there?” I ask.

Shocked, she pulls in a quick breath. Then she shakes her head quickly. “I don’t take anyone there. And I don’t want anyone to know about it.”

“Then why did you tell me?”

“Because you don’t know this place. And you’ll forget about it when you leave here.”

“You think I’ll forget about it now that you’ve told me I would?” I ask.

A look goes across her face. It’s something like pain and sadness mixed together. Instinctively, I lean forward and reach out. Something about her needs protecting, and something about my head won’t let me forget this girl. Even though everyone hates her, I can’t see why. She’s nice. A little bit quiet and shy, but she talks and answers questions. She’s honest about her feelings and opinions. And Anne Marie is weirdly arrogant. Something has to be up with this while thing.

“I have to go,” she says suddenly.

I watch as Vandelya packs up her things, rushing like she did on Friday. We didn’t even go over the questions, and I can’t understand why she’s running away again. But when I look down, I see that I might have tried to grab her arm. She really doesn’t like me or something. And when she leaves, just as quickly as last time, I just sit there.

I don’t remember touching her, but maybe I did. And maybe there’s something about it that she doesn’t like. It could be me. It could be the fact that I touched her. I don’t know what she’s thinking. And it’s driving me crazy right now.
Something about Vandelya is stuck in my thoughts. I think I’ll head down to the pond to figure it out.

So I get up and pack my bags. I
wave to Mrs. Marshall, who gives me a disapproving look, and head out. I walk up the few steps that get me back on the main level and walk out a side door before anyone sees me.

When I make it outside, I pull my hood up over my head. I got a cool looking coat from Secondhand Serenade, but I just can’t leave my hoodie at home. It’s so much a part of who I am. And I’ve already lost part of me
because of all the lies I keep telling. Something about me has to be real.

It doesn’t take me long to get to the woods. They’re less than a mile from the school. Once I get in there, though, I get lost. I’m seriously wandering around for a while before I see something familiar. And it’s not what I wanted to find either. Not like this, at least.
Because when I find myself looking into Vandelya’s angry eyes, I just feel ashamed and stupid.

“Why are you here?” she asks.
Her voice shakes a little bit, and I’m afraid that I’ve really made her mad, like to the point of hating me.

“You just walked out again. What else am I supposed to do?” I know my voice sounds desperate but I have to know.

“You’re supposed to leave me alone, Carter. You’re supposed to just do the project and leave me alone.” There she goes again with her voice saying my name. Why do I like it so much? And why does she make my heart beat fast?

I swallow in an attempt to make myself appear less idiotic. “Look, Vandelya, I just couldn’t let you walk out. You’ve done that t
wo times to me.” My voice gets quiet at the end and I just look at her face. She looks less angry and she’s biting her lip while she thinks it over. Her eyes are still green, the best shade of green I’ve ever seen. And her cheeks are slightly flushed with the walking she’s been doing. They’re pink and look soft like the skin of her exposed neck.

“What are you doing?” she asks me suddenly.

I close my eyes for a minute and breathe. No, she did not just see me checking her out. How could Lane say she was ugly? That’s ridiculous. She’s the opposite of ugly. And instead of bravely answering, I shake my head. Yes. I am so smooth.

“Whatever, Carter. Look, just follow me and I’ll get you out of here. There’s no sense in you freezing to death tonight. Come,” she says as she pushes past me. She begins walking, and I’m stuck here, staring.

When she begins to disappear behind a tree, I move. She’s right. I don’t want to get lost out here right now. And even though I’m embarrassed right now, I can’t let my pride get the best of me. Not now. Not with her, because she won’t care.

“Vandelya,” I say.

“Hm,” she says absently.

“Why is your name Vandelya?” Wow. I
t can’t get any worse than this. What was I even going to ask originally? Because it definitely wasn’t this crazy. No way in hell was it this stupid. And now I hate myself.

“My mom liked it,” she says simply. “Why is your name Carter?”

“It was my grandpa’s name on my dad’s side.” There. Something true. “That wasn’t what I meant to ask you,” I say just as we step out on the street.

Vandelya turns to look at me. She wraps her arms around her stomach, and I take my hoodie off without thinking.

“Where’s your jacket today?” I ask as I wrap my hoodie around her shoulders. “You always wear it around.”

She looks up at me and something different shines in her eyes for a moment. It’s something like curiosity and wonder. “It’s gone,” she whispers. Her voice shakes again and I put my hands on her shoulders.

“What’s wrong? Did you lose it? Because I can get you another one, Vandelya. I don’t mind.”

A tear falls down her cheek. And the worst question comes out of her mouth. But first she steps back. “Why are you being nice to me? What are you going to do?”

Whoa. I am not going to hurt this girl. Who does she think I am? I’m not Jack. I’m not some psycho. And, I’ll admit, it hurts that she thinks so.

“I’m not going to touch you,” I whisper. This time, I cross my arms. But it’s not because I’m cold, it’s because I like her. I like her and she doesn’t care about me or what I’m thinking.
She only cares about what I’m going to do to her.

Vandelya bites her lower lip again. Will sh
e stop doing that? Seriously! If she doesn’t stop soon, I might be forced to kiss her. “I should go,” she says as she pulls my hoodie off her shoulders. “Thanks for the hoodie. And no, I don’t need another one.”

“Vandelya, don’t walk away.”

She stops, for some reason, and turns around. She stands there, waiting for me to finish my little speech. And now that she’s waiting, I can’t do it.

She begins to turn away again.

“Can I just walk you home?” I ask her. “You shouldn’t be walking alone at night.”

“Carter, this is Mason. There’s no crime rate here. And no, you can’t walk me home. Goodnight,” she says as she turns away for the last time today.

I stand there and stare after her. Then, I run my hands through my hair and turn towards my apartment. Girls are just so confusing, especially Vandelya. And I don’t know what to do to make her like me, or even talk to me for more than thirty seconds. She has some weird hold on me, and I don’t know what to do about her.

When I make it to my apartment,
I open my door. I’m about to step in when a voice calls my name. I turn to find Ryan.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask as I let him in the door. “Have you been waiting here all afternoon
or something?”

Ryan shrugs. “I heard that you left campus early. Some kid saw you follow Vandelya out of the library. What’s up with that?”

“What?” I ask. “She left way before me. And I left because I didn’t have anything to do, and I didn’t want to go back to Mr. Preston’s.”

“Don’t get in
volved with her, Carter. Okay?” It won’t go over well with Anne Marie and everyone.”