Tears of the Broken Read Online Free PDF

we’d touch. I kinda hope someone shoves me and I have
to fall into David to stop from landing face-first on the ground.
At least pushing and shoving would be easier to deal with than all
the staring and whispering. It’s getting old, fast. I mean, are
they looking at me because I’m new or because I’m walking with
David?
    David stopped at the end of a long, brightly-lit corridor,
painted in a rich burgundy colour—so unlike the rest of this pallid
school. “This is the auditorium.” He placed his palm flat on one of
the double doors. As it swung open, my breath caught in my throat.
“It’s much brighter in here when all the stage lights are on,” he
said.
    “ Are
you kidding, this room is great.” My eyes followed the long columns
of steeply inclined blue seats to where a stage, taller than me,
commanded the entire front of the room like a widescreen LCD, but
big enough to hold the performance of a Broadway musical. Heavy
velvet curtains framed the sides of the stage, and the black
floorboards thudded noisily under the footfalls of kids walking
across it to position their instruments.
    Another small group of students gathered at the foot of the
stage where they’d dragged tables and chairs into a small,
disorderly cluster, and were sitting around on them, joking and
laughing loudly.
    In
the seconds it took for me to size up the group, my eyes swept past
them and stopped on a long forgotten acquaintance of mine. “A
piano?” I said with a wide smile, unable to peel my eyes away from
the old upright.
    “ You
like it?” David asked. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to her.” When
David let go of the auditorium door, it thudded loudly behind us.
Everyone looked up, and the shambolic wailing of their instruments
stopped abruptly, leaving a dense silence as we started down the
aisle. “You ready for this?”
    “ No,
but I have little choice.” I tried to laugh off the nerves, but
nothing came out.
    “ It’s okay.” He grinned and slipped his hand through the strap
of my backpack, resting it just under my shoulder blade. “I’ll take
care of you.”
    He’s
touching me. I can’t breathe. Didn’t anyone ever teach this guy
about personal boundaries? I mean, it’s not like I want him to stop
doing that, but where I come from, people just aren’t quite
so…friendly. And it’s totally not helping with my
nerves.
    As
we neared the stage, some of the kids stood up and smiled at us,
simultaneously causing me to shrink with the thought of the
impending interrogation. Can’t they just ignore me—pretend I don’t
exist?
    “ Hey
guys.” David nodded his greeting, keeping his hand safely on my
back. “This is Ara.”
    I
took a deep, shaky breath and waved, forcing myself to look
friendly. But I probably looked more like a troll, with my face all
contorted into a fake smile.
    “ Ah,
a fellow muso.” A tall, thin boy with sandy-blonde hair leaned his
guitar against a desk and stood up. “Nice to meet you. I’m Ryan.”
He shook my hand, grinning with a broad, honest smile. “And that’s
Alana.” He gestured to a small, dark-haired girl with jet-black
eyes, playing her violin quietly in the corner.
    “ Hello.” I smiled at the girl, who nodded politely toward me,
then almost shrank back into the shadows. Guess she’s as shy as I
feel right now.
    “ And
that’s Fiona and Jess…” Ryan rattled off names as I nodded and
smiled at the faces—forgetting their names instantly. They should
all be called Bob—make things so much easier.
    “ So?” Ryan asked, “What’s your poison?”
    I
stared at him with my chin slightly lowered.
    David looked down at me and a smile crept into the corners of
his lips. “He means what do you
play ?”
    Ryan
nodded to confirm.
    “ Um.
Piano,” I said.
    “ Nice.” Ryan nodded again. “Well, that’s Big Bertha.” He
pointed to the brown piano. “She’s old and large and always in the
way—but she’s in tune.”
    “ Big
Bertha?” I scratched my head,