Broken Dreams (Spiraling Book 2) Read online

  Broken Dreams

  H.L. Karhoff

  All characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is unintentional.

  Edited by M.W. King

  Front Cover quote: Dante’s Inferno

  ISBN: 9781671323247

  Copyright ©2019 H.L. Karhoff

  All rights reserved.

  For Mom

  One

  I stared out the open window at the blue-gray haze of early morning, the air fresh with moisture from the previous night’s thunderstorm. Closing my eyes, I inhaled. It had been twenty-three days since I’d last seen Devon, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was the first thought in my head when I opened my eyes each morning and the last when I cried myself to sleep missing him. I felt like I’d had part of myself torn away. What was worse, he’d taken all the good parts, leaving behind skin and bones pretending to be a whole person.

  When the sun fully broke the horizon, I rose from the window seat and walked to my closet. I heard my younger brother and sister moving around downstairs. In my mind, I saw my very pregnant mother trying unsuccessfully to wrangle them. They were like three-foot-tall whirlwinds destroying everything in their paths, including my mother’s sanity one tiny fragment at a time.

  The smell of bacon on the stove filled the house. I followed it to the kitchen hoping to find something delicious waiting at the table. Instead, I found scrambled eggs drenched in pepper, black toast, and grease-covered floppy bacon. My appetite left me. I chugged half a glass of orange juice and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Mom asked.

  “School,” I answered. “I need to stop by the library before class.”

  “Again?” Mom’s eyebrows furrowed. I had inherited her golden curls, small nose, and slender jaw, but her gray eyes were hers alone. They studied me, full of disbelief. “That’s twice this week.”

  “Yeah. Huge report in English.” I backed toward the door.

  “You need to eat, Tori.” She pointed to the table with the spatula in her hand.

  “Can’t. Sorry, Mom. Joy’s waiting. I’ll see you later.” I turned and jogged across the front room before she could argue.

  I met my cousin, JoyAnn Davis, at the end of her driveway. She had half of her strawberry-blonde hair pulled back with a silver barrette and wore a floral sundress more revealing than her usual attire. I considered asking her about the change. It probably had something to do with a boy. Most of the time when girls changed how they dressed boys were the cause. I didn’t know which boy though.

  “Did you have breakfast?” she asked, nibbling on a bran muffin.

  “No,” I answered. “Mom tried to make bacon again. It wasn’t eat-able.” I retrieved a scrunchy from the side pocket of my backpack and pulled my hair back in a messy bun. Although I loved the air after rain, my waist-length golden curls did not. Gallons of mousse couldn’t keep it from turning into a frizzy mess.

  “Here.” Joy offered me a package of toaster pastries from her purse.

  “No, thanks.” I shook my head as the two of us started down the street. “I’ll wait and get something from the machine at school.”

  She frowned. “That’s not very healthy, Tori.”

  “And cold Pop-Ups are?”

  “I’ll share my muffin with you.” She tucked the pastries back in her purse and tore her muffin in half.

  I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “I’d rather chew on cardboard.”

  Ahead of us, on the other side of the street, Kennedy Phillips came out of her house. She had her shoulder-length brown hair wound into matching buns on the sides of her head and wore white pants with a lime-green tank top that tied at the shoulders.

  Her hair looks super cute like that. Wish I could do something like that with my hair, but nope, my hair has to be a giant frizz ball.

  Kennedy adjusted the strap of her backpack, straightened her shoulders, and lifted her chin as she started down her side of the street. Yeah, that’s right. Act like you’re better than us. I glowered.

  “I take it you’re still mad at her,” Joy said.

  “That’s an understatement,” I grumbled, picking at the side of my finger.

  “Didn’t she apologize?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I shot a scornful look across the street. “She’ll just stab me in the back again.”

  “You don’t know that.” Joy set her hand on my shoulder. “You should give her a chance. It might make you feel better.” She used the same tone she did with my little brother and sister.

  “Doubt it.” I jerked away from her touch.

  We shuffled around a massive tree branch that had gotten knocked down in the storm.

  “After school, we should help clean up,” Joy said.

  “No, thanks.” I shook my head. “I don’t feel like wasting my Friday night picking up sticks. And don’t you have that thing with the math geeks after school?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She grinned. “I almost forgot. Sure you don’t want to come with us?”

  “I’m sure. Lou Chambers staring at my tits for an hour isn’t my idea of a good time.”

  At the end of the block, we checked for cars before we entered the crosswalk. In my peripheral vision, I saw Kennedy coming toward us. She was almost to the corner. I slowed so she would be in front of us when we reached the sidewalk. If she were behind, I didn’t trust her not to stab me in the back for real.

  “I think we should ask her to walk with us,” Joy said.

  I turned to look at Joy, stopping in the middle of the road. My brow furrowed. “Why?”

  “Because it’s the nice thing to do.” An optimistic smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

  “And your point is? It’s not like she’s nice to us.” I waved my hand toward Kennedy.

  “Sometimes you have to be the bigger person.”

  My scowl deepened. “I’m five feet two inches tall, Joy. Unless I’m talking to a toddler, I’m never the bigger person.”

  Joy pursed her lips in the same way my mother did when she didn’t think I was funny. “You know what I mean, Tori. You have to figuratively be the bigger person.” She continued to the sidewalk.

  I trudged behind, my shoulders drooping in defeat. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to be. She’s the one that lied.”

  “If you sow kindness, you will reap kindness also.” The softness left Joy’s tone, and she spoke with a matter-of-factness that came off as condescending.

  I stopped again, folded my arms across my chest, and stomped my foot. “Stop trying to make me be friends with her, Joy. She’s a backstabbing, two-faced bitch, and you know it.”

  “Tori!” She clasped her hand over her mouth.

  “What?”

  “You shouldn’t talk like that.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, Joy. I’m not talking to her and that’s it.”

  Joy stared at the pavement the rest of the walk to school. I’d offended her, but I didn’t care. Talking to Kennedy would not make me feel better. As I stared at her in front of us, I thought about what she’d done, and anger surged through my veins. She’d betrayed me. Nothing she said would change that.

  Two

  Trudging to the freshman hall after school, I jammed my algebra book into my backpack. The sound of Kennedy rummaging through her locker distracted me. I glanced at her, wondering how she could be such a mess and still pass her classes.

  “I hate to agree with Joy, but you might have better luck finding things if your locker didn’t look like a dumpster,” I said before mentally smacking my forehead with my palm. Stupid! Why are you talking to her? She’s not your friend.

&n
bsp; Kennedy jerked her head to look at me. The corner of her mouth quirked up in a brief smile before she saw my scowl and changed her mind. “It works for me.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” I scoffed. “Find your homework yet?”

  “Forget it.” She stood up, threw her bag over her shoulder, and closed her locker. “I’ll just ask Mr. Taylor if I can have another one tomorrow.” She turned away from me as if she were about to leave.

  “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes.

  Kennedy stopped. She took a deep breath, turned around, and stepped closer. “I see you’re still using Devon’s locker.” Hope filled her voice, and she stared at me expectantly, as if she thought my lapse in judgement meant I wanted to patch things up.

  “Yeah. And?” I curled the side of my lip, looking sideways at her.

  Devon and I had shared a locker for a few months after mine broke. I’d moved my things out when we had our fight in March but had gone back to using his after he left. Seeing his books every day helped and hurt. It made me feel closer to him while reminding me he was gone. There were days I could pretend he’d gotten suspended again, and I’d see him after school, but those days were few. Most of the time, I had to force myself to keep moving.

  “Just an observation.” Kennedy shrugged. “Any idea when he’ll be back? He is coming back, isn’t he?”

  “Like you care,” I snapped.

  “I do.” She paused. “Listen, Tori, I’m sorry. If I had known Devon was listening, I never would have said anything about you and Carter.” She sounded genuine, but I knew better.

  I narrowed my eyes as I turned to look at her. “There was never anything going on with me and Carter. You made it up. And there’s no way you didn’t know he was listening.”

  “I honestly didn’t realize he was there until it was too late.”

  “Because it’s so hard to spot a six-foot-tall guy standing right next to you?” I huffed. “Don’t lie, Kenn. You knew he was there. That’s why you said it.”

  “He’s bad for you, Tori.” Worry clouded her eyes and permeated her voice. She grabbed my hand between both of hers.

  I yanked my hand out of her grip. “Yeah, well, running your mouth is about to be bad for you, but you’re still doing it.”

  Kennedy stepped back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means if you don’t get out of my space, I’ll deck you.”

  She stared at me for a second to gauge whether I was joking. Determining I wasn’t, she walked away. I heard her mumbling something about me, but I ignored her. I’d allowed her to rile me enough.

  As soon as Kennedy had gone, Joy scurried up to me from her locker across the hall. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  “What was that about?” She glanced down the hall in the direction Kennedy had gone.

  “I made the mistake of talking to her.” I sighed. “Don’t ask me why.” I shook my head and took my bag out of Devon’s locker. Shutting the door, I turned to Joy. “When are you going out with the math geeks tonight?”

  “I wish you’d stop calling them geeks, Tori.” She frowned.

  “Sorry. When are you going out with the math geniuses?”

  “Charlie is picking me up at five.” She started down the hall as if she hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary.

  A grin spread across my face. I hurried to catch up with her, adjusting the strap on my backpack. “Charlie? Who’s Charlie?” I tilted my head. “Do you have a boyfriend, Joy?”

  She shook her head and gave me a look that said she was not amused by my assumption. “No. He’s just a friend.”

  “Oh, like Devon and I were just friends.” I chuckled. “Better not let your mom find out.”

  “There’s nothing for her to find out. He’s a friend friend. Not my boyfriend.”

  “Uh-huh.” I winked and smirked. “We’ll just keep it our little secret then.”

  She sighed. “He really is just a friend, Tori. He’s not my type.”

  “Who is your type?”

  Joy blushed. “I’m not telling you that.”

  “Why not?” My brow furrowed. Her unspoken accusation hurt my feelings. “I’m not Kennedy. I won’t blab to everybody.”

  She looked at the tile floor. “You’ll think I’m stupid.”

  “No, I won’t. Come on, tell me.” I pulled on her arm. “Please.” I flashed my most persuasive smile.

  “No way.” She shook her head.

  “Yes, way. Come on. You have to tell me.” I tried pouting.

  Joy scowled. “No, I don’t.”

  “Dang it, Joy.” I let go of her arm. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that. It’ll drive me friggin’ crazy now.” I took a breath. “All right, I’ll try to guess. Is it Lou?”

  She shook her head, and I named every boy I thought she might like. When I ran out of names, I prodded her to tell me again. She refused again. She either had a crush on someone I didn’t know or wouldn’t tell me even if I guessed.

  “Who’s at your house?” Joy asked.

  Looking down the street, I spotted Carter Fields’ gigantic slate-blue Oldsmobile. From front to back, it took up most of the distance between my driveway and the neighbor’s.

  “That’s just Carter.” I waved at the car. It didn’t surprise me to see the monstrosity parked in front of my house. “He must have gotten back from Beaumont sooner than he expected.”

  Joy’s brow furrowed. “That’s not Carter’s car.”

  “His old one blew something, so he got a new one.”

  “You’d think he would have gotten something better.” Her nose wrinkled.

  I shrugged. “He likes driving boats. I guess it makes him feel bigger.”

  Carter Fields was small for a seventeen-year-old. It wouldn’t have shocked me if he could still shop in the little boys’ department. His weight barely broke into triple digits and, when he stood up straight, he was only three inches taller than me.

  Instead of going across the street to her own house, Joy followed me into mine. Carter sat on the sofa next to my older brother, Chris. The two held video game controllers in their hands with their eyes locked on the television.

  “Jesus Christ, Carter,” Chris said. “I thought you never played this.”

  “I haven’t,” Carter replied. “But it’s like Street Fighter and I used to kick Dev’s ass on that all the time.”

  Chris mashed the buttons on his controller. “Stop doing that shit.”

  Carter laughed. “Stop sucking.”

  “You suck,” Chris retorted. “Damn it!” He tossed his controller as his sleek, ninja-like character lost his head. Bright red blood spurted from the wound before the body dropped to the ground.

  “That was gory.” Joy wrinkled her nose.

  “That’s nothing,” Carter said. “Chris was this guy earlier that cuts the other guy in half with his hat. The two pieces fall apart and—”

  “I get the picture.” Joy gulped.

  “Is this why you had to leave early today?” I asked, clambering over the back of the sofa to sit beside Carter. “To play video games? I thought you were going to Beaumont.”

  “I already did,” Carter answered before turning to Chris. “Rematch?”

  “Definitely.” Chris picked up his controller.

  “Before you get lost in game land again, Carter,” I said. “Are you still taking me and Joy to the library tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” Carter nodded.

  “Do you think we could go earlier?” I asked. “Joy’s mom said she’d take us to that concert in Beaumont.”

  “What concert?” Chris looked at me.

  “It’s this charity thing,” Carter explained. “To raise awareness for some stupid cause, like Save the Whales or something.”

  “No wonder I didn't know about it.” Chris chuckled. “Sounds like it’ll blow.”

  “There’ll actually be some pretty cool bands,” Carter said. “Chase’s band is playing. And Dirt and E.O.D. ar
e coming in from Ashton.”

  “E.O.D.?” I raised an eyebrow. “I’ve heard of them.”

  “They’re one of Dev’s favorite bands,” Carter replied.

  “I guess that’s why I’ve heard of them.” I forced a smile. Carter didn’t know, but every time he mentioned Devon a miniature sword poked my heart. I didn’t understand how Carter could talk about Devon without flinching—like it didn’t matter that Devon was gone. He was supposed to be Devon’s best friend.

  “Maybe we can go together,” Joy said.

  Carter, Chris, and I turned to look at her.

  “I mean, if we’re all going . . .” Joy continued, her gaze flitting to Carter. “We can all go together.”

  “I’ll pass.” Chris settled back into his corner of the sofa.

  “Me, too,” Carter said. “I’m riding with Chase.”

  Joy’s hopeful expression dropped.

  I knit my eyebrows, shifting my eyes from Joy to Carter as he turned back to the game. Holy crap. No way. A sincere smile pulled at my mouth. Joy likes Carter. That’s why she didn’t want to tell me. Now I get why she always wants to study with us.

  Getting up, I skipped around the couch and looped Joy’s arm in mine. “Let’s go raid the fridge. I’m starving.”

  “Of course you are,” she said. “You’re like a bottomless pit. I don’t know where you put all the junk you eat.”

  “Oh, whatever,” I replied. “You know where it goes. My ass is the size of Manhattan.”

  “Tori.” Joy frowned.

  “Sorry, my butt is the size of Manhattan.”

  “You’ve been spending too much time around the stoner girls, Tori,” she said once we were in the kitchen. “You’re talking like them.”

  “No, I’m not,” I replied. “Trust me. Maimy and Claire say much worse than ‘ass.’ And besides, it’s in the bible. Mary rode an ass to Jerusalem or something.”

  “She went to Bethlehem and that kind of . . . ass”—Joy paused, whispering “ass” as quietly as she could manage while still being audible—“is another name for a donkey. The kind you’re saying is a swear word.”