Broken (The Outsiders Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

and you all know the consequences of bringing me a typed paper; if you want your mom and dad to do it, force them to sit at the table with you. It will let you all bond.”
    The kid in front of me ducks his head, and I’m thinking it was him. I wonder what his consequence was then. And, like he knew what I was thinking, he turns around. “Hey, I feel bad for you, man. You didn’t deserve it.”
    I wrinkle my brow. “Didn’t deserve what?”
    “Getting paired up with Vandelya. You won’t like her at all. Not if you hang around Anne Marie.” He shrugs and turns back around. I look at the back of his dark colored head. His hair curls at the ends and he wears it in front of his eyes so that I can’t see him that well. He doesn’t shave either, and his almost-beard is coming in unevenly. He seems a little off, though. And I don’t know what to make of it.
    And instead of tapping his shoulder or making a noise to get his attention, I look down at the paper in front of me. I borrowed an extra notebook of Ryan’s when he told me that my Creative Writing teacher wouldn’t take the excuse. The blank paper calls to me, drawing out ideas of my past. And I have a decision to make. Tell the truth about myself. Or lie. I sit there, drawing faces and lines on my paper for a while. It’s Mr. Preston that finally forces me to make my decision.
    “You’re getting a lot of work done, Carter. Do you want to read it in front of the class later on?” he asks as he looks down at my drawings. Then, he lowers himself so that he’s on my level. “You have the power to write down anything you want to. Just tell us who you are, Carter. Then, they won’t keep guessing. They’ll know you, just like they all know each other.”
    My first thought is: why do I want them to know me? And then, just like that, I know that I want to make it all up. If I’m forced to work with someone that I don’t know, I’m going to make it interesting for both of us.
    I glance at the first question before starting with my name and date of birth. I work on creating a story with two loving and hardworking parents. One of them works in investment banking while the other claims to be a detective of sorts. I go into detail about my dad’s long hours. Then, I add the piece about how I think he’s a spy or something like that. Maybe even a CIA agent. I add information about my childhood. I traveled to Europe when I was younger. That’s why I started school late. And this story is better than the one I told the woman when I registered. I’m keeping this one.
    I kept writing about how t he kids at my old high school wanted to vote me prom king, but I was dethroned because I wasn’t the prom queen’s boyfriend. My parents haven’t bought me a new car because, ever since my accident, they don’t trust me at all. And it just goes on and on. And part of me believes the lies, because I want them to be the truth. I want them to be real. Because it’s better than what I have right now.
    When the bell rings , I look up to see that kids are packing up to leave. I shove my fake life into my pocket and hand Ryan his notebook on the way out of the room. We walk outside together, and it doesn’t take me long to realize that he’s quieter than usual.
    “Hey, man, what’s up?” I ask as we step into the hallway. He turns to look at me. Then he looks away again. “Seriously, Ryan,” I add, “you can talk to me about it, man.” And as soon of the words fall out of my mouth, I mentally slap myself. Now I’m going to be forced to tell him things about myself.
    “I don’t want you to tell Anne Marie or someone, Carter. And who knows what you’ll do now that you’re one of us,” he admits.
    I might as well play the friend card. Who knows what these people are really like here. And if I’m involved, I’m going to need at least one friend. Ryan’s my best option. He isn’t as touchy-feely as Todd. “You’re the reason that I’m one of you,” I say.