Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 1.2 - Rough Broke Read Online Free PDF Page A

comes, so your case worker drives you out to the house. You get out of the car and she seems to be waiting for you to go inside, but you're pretty sure that you're not going to be in there for long before you're kicked right back out, and it will be easier for everyone if she isn't there to witness that. So you go to her car window and say that the hide-a-key is around back, so thanks for the ride, and see you around. She looks reluctant to leave, but you twist around the side of the house and out of her sight, and it's not long until you hear the car pulling away. You wait a few seconds to be sure, and then walk back

Rough Broke | Kate Sherwood
around to the front door.
    You ring the doorbell, and you hear heavy steps on the far side— must be your stepfather. He has to unlock all three locks, one of which is new, and he doesn't usually lock the door when he's at home, so you figure maybe they got the letter from the Texas Youth Commission after all. They knew you were coming, and it made them buy a new lock. The door opens and he's glaring at you, and he doesn't say a word, just reaches down and grabs something bulky off the floor. It's your dad's old duffel bag, and it's packed full. Still wordless, he shoves it out at you, and you take it, and he steps back and shuts the door. You crane your neck, trying to see if your mother or Krista are even in there, but the inside of the house is in shadows.
    You turn and start down the path to the street, but when you get to the sidewalk you realize that you don't know whether to turn left or right. You sit down on the curb with your duffel beside you, and you try to think. You guess you should have had a plan for this, but having a plan would have meant you were giving up on the fantasy, the world where your mom had picked you up when you got off the bus, and given you a hug and looked at your work-broadened shoulders and said something hokey about her little boy being all grown up. In the fantasy, she would have taken you home and there would have been a banner or something, like you've seen on TV, and a cake and some people to greet you and welcome you home. You knew better than to expect that, but that doesn't mean you were tough enough to have given up hope entirely.
    You've got to hand it to your stepfather, really. If there had been some big scene, yelling and slamming things, maybe your mother crying in the background, then at least you would have gotten an adrenaline burst, gotten enough energy to tear you up off this curb and off to do something. As it is, there's nothing. It's mid-afternoon in early September, and the street is deserted, kids still at school, adults at work or inside. You guess your stepfather must have taken the day off in order to execute his plan. It's hot, the pavement melted and wavy, and the heat is weighing you

Rough Broke | Kate Sherwood
down, making you feel like you've melted into the sidewalk.
    From down the street, you hear the tinkling song of an ice cream truck, and you wonder what it's doing here, in this ghost town. There's a school a couple blocks down and it's almost dismissal time, so you guess maybe it's heading over there, but as the truck drives towards you, it's going slow and playing its song, as if the driver expects kids to come rushing out of the houses to greet him. You think of your own unrealistic dreams and can't judge him too harshly, but as he gets closer you put your head down on your knees, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to look at the face of another misplaced loser. You hear the truck move up beside you, and then stop, and you wonder just how crazy this guy is, and have a quick flashing vision of the truck being driven by Pennywise, that monstrous clown from some Stephen King movie, and the clown stepping out of the truck and standing over you, and then stabbing into your hunched shoulders with his razor-sharp fingernails, pulling you open, splitting you apart.
    You're not seven years old, you know that's not