Broken (27 page)

Read Broken Online

Authors: Dean Murray

Tags: #romance, #paranormal romance, #paranormal, #werewolf, #werewolves, #shape shifter, #ya, #shapeshifters, #reflections, #ya romance, #ya paranormal, #dean murray

BOOK: Broken
7.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I leaned in even closer in an attempt to
drink in the fragrance, and heard the rustle of expensive paper as
I brushed the note that had been attached to the rose with a simple
green ribbon. My name was elegantly scrawled along the outside face
in a script I'd only seen one other place.

After a moment's hesitation, I unfolded the
parchment.

Your birthday should be a time of happiness.
I've spent months looking for a name for this flower, and at the
point of giving up, inspiration struck today. Lagrimas del Angel
always come at too high a cost. Nothing so exquisite could be
otherwise. Please don't despair.

--@

The hand-drawn symbol on the bottom of the
page was so familiar it almost felt like a part of me now. He'd
saved our house, got mom a job, and then given me the best birthday
present I could've asked for.

I felt my insides clench and knot, but this
time it was happiness that brought tears to my eyes. My wavering
vision was just up to making out the outline of Rachel's present
where I'd left it on the table.

Feeling incredibly ungrateful and
thoughtless, I limped over to the table and tore open the delicate
wrapping paper. It was a copy of the latest Les Misérables movie,
complete with the score from the most recent Broadway production,
and a signed picture of the entire cast.

Mom still wasn't home by the time it got
dark, but I went to bed truly happy for what seemed like the first
time in ages. Rachel was the best friend a girl could wish for, and
Brandon had come through in spades.

Chapter 18

I felt my stomach do handsprings as I walked
inside the opera house. The week had flown by much faster than
expected. Especially considering how slowly each individual day had
dragged along. Most of my waking hours had been spent wondering if
Saturday night was ever going to arrive.

My train of thought shattered as I got my
first glimpse of the interior of what'd become my own personal
mecca. The exterior of the building had been impressive, complete
with statues and sculptures reminiscent of an eighteenth century
opera house, but somehow I hadn't expected the illusion to hold
once I passed through the enormous, gilded doors.

I'd been wrong. The floors were a gorgeous
marble which somehow drew the eyes to the nearest golden-white
wall, and up the elaborate gilded trim towards vaulted ceilings. It
was like walking into a palace, complete with painted, spun-sugar
clouds, and burgundy drapes made out of rich velvet.

If it wasn't for the press of people pushing
me from behind, I probably would've stayed in the front entryway
right up until the sound of the orchestra filtered down to me. As
it was, I only got a few hurried looks before being rushed along
with the rest of the students.

Seeing all of my classmates looking utterly
bored as they allowed themselves to be herded through the most
amazing building I'd ever seen, brought me back to my original
train of thought.

I hadn't actually spent every waking moment
thinking about Les Misérables. A fair amount of those seconds had
been spent with Brandon. He'd already been picking me up from
school every morning and dropping me off most days. We now spent
every lunch together, and he'd started lingering when he dropped me
off. It was still only on the days when mom wasn't home, and I
hadn't quite mustered the guts to invite him in, but it'd still
been really nice.

Of course it'd been the logical kind of thing
to have start happening after someone asked you to the Ashure Day
Dance. It was still so amazing someone like Brandon had asked me to
go to a dance that half the time I forgot all about it. The other
half of the time I had a hard time believing it'd really happened.
But it had, and there were more than four-dozen roses scattered
around our kitchen to prove it.

Predictably, Brandon didn't do anything
halfway. I'd gone to school on Tuesday after receiving his amazing,
'anonymous' gift the day before, only to be ambushed at lunch. I'd
been anxiously waiting for him at his normal table when a pair of
employees from the local florist had walked in, their arms
overflowing with roses. I'd been expecting them to stop in front of
Jasmin. Instead they'd passed her up and then declined to make a
beeline to Cassie either. When they'd started handing the flowers
to me, I'd tried to convince them there'd been some kind of
mistake.

The sound of 'One day more' playing on the
cell phone nestled in the closest bouquet had been what finally
convinced me it was all meant for me. Brandon's voice had been like
silk caressing my face when I'd answered the phone.

One minute I was minding my own business
trying to pretend like I didn't notice the nasty looks some of
Brandon's friends were shooting my way when they thought I wasn't
looking, the next I was going to the biggest dance of the year with
the most popular guy in school. I'd half thought Cassie was going
to rip out my throat.

I walked past a pair of gorgeous,
gold-fringed drapes, handed my ticket to a distinguished-looking
man in a uniform, and then smiled as he pointed me towards my
door.

It was almost a relief to be around strangers
again. He'd been polite, but hadn't tried to fawn on me. My being
asked out had changed my treatment from almost every girl at
school. Half the student body, the more sensible portion it seemed,
had all decided that I was some kind of massively stuck-up slut.
The other half had decided they needed to be my new best friend if
they wanted to get invited to any of the 'cool' parties ever
again.

It might not have bothered me except the
girls who now hated me were the ones I generally would've gotten
along with, at least as much as I ever got along with anyone.

My leaving Brandon's insane bouquet of
flowers at the office instead of lugging it around all day should
have helped. Apparently they all either thought it was a ploy, or
were just too stupid to get the message that I didn't want to jump
on the popularity bandwagon. Whatever the reason, I'd gotten three
invitations to assorted parties or other activities before school
ended. I even got another two as I hobbled back from the office
with my roses, which seemed to have decreased during their stay
there by exactly the number of office ladies.

I'd politely declined each invitation, citing
my need to catch up in Biology and Spanish, and made it to tutoring
without further mishap.

Another usher, this one thankfully no more
fawning than the first, pointed me towards my seat, and I felt my
second surge of disappointment for the night. My seat was on the
main level, but it was only three rows from the very top, and all
the way off to one side. I guess it really wasn't that surprising.
If the school was paying for the tickets I should just be glad I
hadn't been stuck with a standing room only spot.

Still, as disappointing as it was that the
performers were only barely going to be visible, it wasn't as bad
as the nagging worry that Rachel wasn't coming after all.

We'd spent almost every second together
talking about how much fun we were going to have seeing Les
Misérables together. She'd even still been excited about the bus
ride.

Given everything she'd said, I'd anxiously
waited for her to show up at the departure point. It'd seemed
impossible, but as Mrs. Alexander had gently herded me onto the
bus, there'd still been no sign of her.

"Maybe she's driving instead of taking the
bus down. I seem to remember someone saying her brother had
purchased a ticket. He isn't here, so possibly they're going down
together."

It'd been a fairly slender thread upon which
to hang my hopes. Somehow my dream of seeing Les Misérables had
morphed into a dream of seeing Les Misérables with Rachel. We still
didn't get to spend much time together, but she was rapidly
becoming the only person I could confide in besides Brandon. A
boyfriend, or near boyfriend was nice, but some things just needed
to be shared with another female.

I couldn't tell my mom about my feelings for
Brandon or she'd absolutely freak. After spending so much time
lying to her about the origin of the almost four-dozen roses, I
couldn't afford any kind of slip in that regard. She'd thought the
single rose, Lagrimas del Angel, as I was calling it now, had been
sweet and thoughtful, especially when I'd told her it was from an
anonymous admirer.

The other roses had been an entirely
different matter. I'd had to do some pretty quick talking to
convince her I didn't know who they were from either. All of which
meant I still hadn't told her I'd been asked to the Ashure Day
dance.

Luckily, Rachel was the perfect listener,
even if she did cringe a little every time I mentioned Brandon. All
the things I would've told my mom had instead been shared with
Rachel. Best of all, there'd been absolutely no hint that she'd
blabbed to anyone else.

I settled deeper into my seat, opening my
program as the orchestra started warming up. It was amazing to
think the near chaos currently drifting up from the pit would
transform itself into the glorious strains of the Overture in just
a few minutes.

I was so intent on the program it should've
taken a small explosion to bring my head around, but something
caused me to look up as Alec walked past the drapes. He looked even
more gorgeous than normal.

I'd gone back and forth, both with myself,
and with Rachel, on how much to dress up. Going in normal street
clothes would've cheapened the experience, but I hadn't wanted to
stick out too much from the rest of the kids, all of whom I'd been
pretty sure would be in shorts and polo's.

I'd been right, which had made me glad I'd
compromised and come in my one and only sun dress. Alec apparently
hadn't gotten the memo. He was in an honest to goodness full tux. I
wasn't the only one stunned by how good he looked; there was a
ripple of turned heads as people noticed his entrance.

He paced the short distance down to the back
row of seats with such incredible grace that I felt my mouth go
dry. No one person should be so attractive, not when there wasn't
enough of him to go around to every single woman in the world. For
a few seconds I forgot all about the reasons I didn't like him, and
just wished he was sitting in front of me instead of two rows
behind me where I couldn't see him.

Then I realized what his arrival really
meant. Rachel had stood me up. She wasn't on the bus, and she
apparently hadn't come with her brother, so she wasn't coming. I
knew I should reserve judgment until I'd given her a chance to
explain what'd happened, but it was hard to remember that when
faced with Alec's air of superiority.

Rachel was nicer, but she was still a Graves.
Maybe this was just a sign of things to come. Apparently I wasn't
the only one put off by Alec's snobbishness. A couple of guys who
looked like they were old enough to be in college were rolling
their eyes at him. They were whispering and laughing, but
positioned as they were closer to Alec than to me, I couldn't make
out any of what they were saying.

While I agreed completely with their
sentiment, they were so loud they were disturbing at least twenty
or thirty people. Hopefully they'd quiet down once the actual show
started up.

Judging by the orchestra, it was almost time.
I looked back intending to shoot the obnoxious pair a nasty glare
in the hopes it would shut them up, and instead caught Alec's eye.
The house lights were still bright enough for me to make out every
detail of his perfect face, and yet I was still baffled by his
expression. He'd obviously been staring at me, was still staring at
me actually, but it wasn't a leer. It was something else, it made
me want to blush, or maybe smile and toss my hair. Whatever it was,
it left my skin feeling warmer than usual, and more than a little
tight.

Even after I looked away with a flush of
embarrassment, I still felt like I could feel his eyes watching me.
I could feel his presence behind and to the left of me, like a
gentle tingle of electricity I could've pointed to even with my
eyes closed.

I resisted the urge to look back again as the
lights dimmed and the orchestra began the opening strains of the
first number.

The actor playing Jean Valjean strode out
onto stage, and even weighed down by chains, he seemed to command
everyone's attention like he was a member of nobility. Each
successive character somehow managed to latch onto my heart as they
arrived.

Despite the nagging sensation that I could
feel Alec behind me, the first few minutes of the play exceeded all
my hopes. That all changed when they started 'Lovely Ladies'.

It was my absolute least favorite song on the
whole soundtrack. Frankly the whole play would've been better if
they'd just left it off. Still, sitting through a song about
'ladies of the night' as my mom still called them, had seemed like
a small price to pay for getting to listen to the rest of the
play.

By the middle of the song both of the
oversexed boys behind me were whispering catcalls.

I felt my ears going red. I wanted nothing
more than to sink down into my seat and try to ignore them, but
once guys got started on something like that, they never stop. Some
of the people around me were starting to evidence signs of
annoyance, but that just seemed to spur the hecklers on to greater
heights.

I was so worried they were going to ruin
everyone's experience, that I turned around and shot them a dirty
look.

"Oh sweetie, don't you worry, we've been
aching to get our hands on you all night. We're saving plenty of
loving for you later. Meet us out back after this crap is over and
we'll give you a real show."

My mouth dropped open in shock. Pretty much
nothing was going to get them to shut up now, not when they had
such a perfect target. Sitting there staring at them was about the
worst of all the choices open to me, but I was too shocked to pull
my eyes away.

Other books

The Sharp Time by Mary O'Connell
Legion of the Damned by Sven Hassel
Among the Imposters by Margaret Peterson Haddix
Hailey's Truth by Cate Beauman
Zally's Book by Jan Bozarth
One White Rose by Julie Garwood