Pieces of a Mending Heart Read Online Free PDF

voice shooting up a few octaves, shaking. I mentally chastise myself for being such a dimwitted moron at the moment , but keep my friendly face composed.
                  His eyes smile, but his face remains stoic. “First day, huh?” he says.
                  That voice … I nod, unable to form coherent thoughts while the tingles turn my skin to ice. I’m uncomfortable feeling so meek just by the sound of his voice, but there is nothing condescending about his tone; maybe I’m going crazy.
                  “Mine too. Well, first day back,” he says, sounding embarrassed but keeping his expression pleasantly neutral. He reaches up like he’s about to run his fingers through his hair, but stops and drops his hand, a miniscule bitter smile gracing his lips.
                  I can feel it rolling off him , the acrimony , as if in waves of sap; the thick, heavy, sticky emotion clings to my sensitive skin, trying to work its way into my system. I somehow find the strength to pull back, willing it away with just a flick of a mental finger. I smile, finally feeling in control once more.
                  “You went here before?” I ask, putting my books into alignment in my bag, avoiding looking at the picture in my wallet at the bottom. It’s buried, out of sight. Just like David.
                  PANG, the greed and grief starts pumping through my veins, working their way from my heart to every inch of my pathetically human body. I taste them on my tongue, smell their putrid odor in my nose, and feel the ban ging of their demons in my head as they try to force their way into my mind, attempting to once again steal my sanity. I grip my stomach in an attempt to stop the gagging, but then I feel something else.
                  A hand rests tentatively on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. The gagging sensation leaves me, along with the emotions that were just coursing through my veins. I look up, stunned, to see concerned blue eyes boring into mine. I feel as if he sees something I don’t; as if he’s looking into the very depths of my soul and trying to unscramble the mess that was once a thriving young woman.
                  He is the first to break the silence. “Are you alright?” he almost whispers, instinctively leaning closer. The freckles on his nose are rather adorable and add a refreshing youthful look to this otherwise rugged looking boy.
                  I just stare at him like an idiot until my body, again, acts of its own accord and nods. He immediately relaxes, the clouded look leaving his eyes as he takes his hand back slowly. I instantly miss the pressure of his fingers, and I find myself slouching before righting it quickly. My father taught me to never slouch, and literally beat it into my head that it was one of the worst, unladylike habit s a girl could possess.
                  “I’m Tristan. Tristan Presidio ,” he says, offering not his hand, but a stunning smile.
                  I smile back, unable to help myself. “I’m Katherine. Katherine Prince ,” I respond, standing and slinging my backpack over my right shoulder. My shirt sleeves ride up, so I quickly tug them back down, hiding my scars.
                  His eyes take on that knowing look again, and his smile doesn’t falter. “I know,” he says, voice laced with an unidentifiable emotion. That is strange to me, that I do not recognize it. Determining emotions is something God has made very simple for me, which is both a blessing and a curse. More of a curse, really… literally…
                  Tristan speaks again, quickly. “I mean, eve ryone’s been talking about you last week . It’s not o ften there’s a new student here. Shields Valley isn’t exactly a popular place to relocate to, ” he says, tugging his jacket sleeves further down.
                  I bite my