The Way Back from Broken Read Online Free PDF Page A

I’ve got to get all crazy with the bed pans.”
    It was an old joke that reminded Rakmen of a time when laughter came easily to all of them. “Bye, Mom,” he said, pecking her on the cheek and bolting for the door before she could say anything else.
    . . .
    A pack of girls in low, tight pants were talking about Marissa’s baby as Rakmen shoved his way through the front door at school.
    â€œI heard Tyrone showed up at the hospital,” said one.
    â€œYeah, and Marissa’s mom screamed at him for getting her knocked up,” said a blond girl. “They had to call security.”
    â€œBut you know what?” This was a short, round girl with hoop earrings so large that Rakmen was pretty sure poodles could leap through them. “She named the baby Tyrone Jr.”
    â€œBet her mama flipped out.”
    That girl didn’t know crap about mothers flipping out.
    â€œHey, man,” said Juan, catching up with him. “You ready for this test?”
    Rakmen shoved his backpack into his locker. “Not even a little.”
    â€œShoot. Same here.”
    They pushed through the crowded halls. His stomach twitched in anticipation of whatever hell awaited him inside. The test wouldn’t go well. No surprise there. Chromosomal defects. Heritable disease. Pedigrees. It was all a blur. Mrs. Tatlas in the middle of the night. He’d been in her house. Seen her in goddamn pajamas.
    â€œWe missed you at the pickup game last night,” said Juan as they slid into biology a few minutes before the bell. She wasn’t there yet. He had a few minutes left to breathe. “You know,” said Juan, nudging him to get his attention, “you could come back and play with us.”
    Rakmen shrugged and sat by the far windows.
    â€œSuit yourself but I don’t see why you ditched us.”
    â€œDidn’t ditch you.”
    â€œYou haven’t come for a game in almost a year.” Juan frowned at him. “That’s called ditching, asshole.”
    The rest of the class rumbled in, the girls shrill and the guys loud. Rakmen’s head was already pounding from lack of sleep, and even on a good day, school was like being bludgeoned with a hundred radios all set on different stations.
    â€œYou know,” said Juan, scanning the classroom shelves full of animal skeletons, mounted birds, and stuff in jars. “This class used to be kinda cool. Remember how Mrs. T was all gaga into squid and photosynthesis and crap? She turned lame lately. You notice that?”
    Rakmen wanted to puke. Instead, he shook his head. “Nah. Always sucked.”
    â€œAmen, brother. Here’s to going down in flames.”
    Since there wasn’t any point cramming for the test, Rakmen pulled the Metro section of the morning paper out of his backpack and got out his notebook. Site of former meth lab contaminates local well. African-American church damaged by arson. Gray whale calf washes up near Newport.
    Juan leaned over. “Why do you keep all that downer stuff?”
    Rakmen slid the notebook under the newspaper. He couldn’t explain how bad news tacked him to the ground, how it kept him unsurprisable. Juan wouldn’t understand.
    The roar in the room settled when Mrs. Tatlas came in.
    Rakmen kept his eyes glued to his desk.
    â€œQuiet, everyone. You know the drill.” Her voice was worn thin like the carpet in the basement of Promise House.
    As the rest of the students cleared their desks, Rakmen retrieved his notebook and added one more line. Marissa.
    Mrs. Tatlas began to distribute the stack of tests tucked under her arm. “This is your last unit test before the final in June, which is, I remind you, cumulative. So don’t forget everything you learned for today.” She didn’t look at him when she passed.
    Rakmen scanned the first page of the test. An essay on the evolutionary significance of mutation worth fifteen points.
    â€œBitch,” Juan