Broken and screwed 2, p.11
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       Broken and Screwed 2, p.11
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         Part #2 of Broken and Screwed series by Tijan

  A light bulb went off for me.

  Hannah was broken, just like me.

  My hand found hers and I squeezed it, patting it at the same time. “Trust me. I understand.”

  “Your boyfriend cheated on you for a whole year, broke up with you because of the long distance relationship, and ended up transferring to Grant West so he could date your roommate/best friend?”

  “Well,” I let go of her hand. “No.” I patted her shoulder instead.

  “Oh. Because that’s what happened to me. I dated Dylan forever. He went to Cal U, I went to Grant West, and you know the rest.” She sounded defeated. “They got together over the summer after he broke up with me. Angelique didn’t tell me until the day we moved in together. She said she had ‘some news to tell me’ and Dylan strolled in. Fuck me. I thought he had come to beg forgiveness and then they started kissing.”


  Her shoulders filled with anger again and she stiffened beside me. “Thanks for punching her. I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

  “Heh.” I waved my hand in a dismissing motion. “Not a problem.”

  She grinned at me. “We’re a mess. Sorry about ruining your first drunk moment.”

  “I’ve been drunk before.”

  “You have?”

  I nodded. “But that was the first time I’ve hit someone. It was fulfilling.”

  “Oh.” She began to laugh, her shoulders shaking. “Beth’s right. You’re cool. I’m glad my sister hates you.”

  “Me too.”

  We began laughing together then, unable to hold in the hysterics of the evening. When an elderly couple walked past into the store, a fresh wave came over us again. The old guy seemed intrigued while his wife grabbed his cane and hurried him inside. I wasn’t sure how long we sat there. It was a while before Hannah sighed, hugging herself. She ran a hand over her hair, trying to calm the mess and shuddered. “We should go back.”


  We didn’t move.

  Hannah asked, “Do you know how to go back?”

  “No idea.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  We remained sitting. The elderly couple came out, followed by a grocery clerk with their purchases. When he wheeled his cart back in, his gaze lingered on us, mostly on Hannah and her hair, before he went back inside.

  She glanced over. “I have a feeling if we don’t leave they’re going to call the cops on us.”

  “You’re right. Probably think we’re drug dealers—” I started.

  She finished, with a wicked grin, “—or prostitutes!”

  I nodded and stuck my lip so I’d look full of knowledge. “You’re right. I’d go with the hookers. They think we’re hookers.”

  She eyed my outfit before she leaned over, took hold of my sleeves, and ripped them off.

  My mouth fell open. “That was my favorite shirt.”

  “It was?”

  Doubling over with more laughter, I shook my head. “No. I think I’m still drunk.”

  “Me too.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “But you look more like a hooker. Maybe we can get a ride.”

  “Or call for a ride.” I pointed at her pockets. “Call Beth.”

  “Oh yeah!” More giggles spilled from her as she fumbled with the buttons, but by the end of the conversation Beth was on her way for us.

  We didn’t have to wait long. She pulled into the parking lot in the red Camaro from before. Hannah bounced into the front seat, exclaiming, “You got my car. How’d you do that?”

  Beth seemed less than happy to see us. She skimmed a hard look over both of us as I got into the back seat, then she turned out of the parking lot. “I got a ride to Mitch’s. You left your stuff there so I found your keys. They were going to call the cops on you, but then you ran.”

  Hannah scrunched her face up. “Were they still there?”

  “Angelique and Dylan?”

  Her lips pressed even tighter together.

  Beth gentled her tone, “No and Mitch said they’ve been banned.”

  “Oh Mitchy.” Hannah slumped down in her chair, a sloppy grin on her face. “He wants my sister so bad, doesn’t he?”

  “He asked me to tell Tiffany that he was looking out for you.”

  Hannah snorted and pumped her hand in the air. Her middle finger was extended to the ceiling. “Fuck you, Mitch Carinns. He ain’t getting anywhere near Tiffany. He didn’t do crap for me, told me to take it outside. That was all. And they were going to call the cops? He’s pathetic.” She jerked upright. “We should trash his bar tonight.”

  Beth shrugged. “If you want.”

  I kept my face schooled, but damn. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for vandalism.

  “I want.” Hannah was heated.

  “We’ll have to do it after hours, around five or so in case anyone stays after closing.”

  “Four should be okay.”

  The two nodded, a crime couple in the making. I was waiting for the fist pump, but it never came. Instead, Hannah slumped back down and Beth kept driving. That was when I realized they’d done this before. I had newfound thoughts on these two. Hannah had always struck me as a loose cannon, but I understood a little bit more why she was that way. But Beth, I wasn’t sure. However, unless they were killing people, I wasn’t fearful of any friendship with them. I was more inclined. I didn’t understand it, but I knew that these two made me feel stronger.

  Hannah was still drunk. I was sobering up and Beth didn’t care so we went to another party. This time, instead of a dive bar, we parked on the street for a house party. Cars were lined up and down the block so we had to walk from two blocks away, but as we drew closer, the bass got louder. It was nearly ear splitting by the time we walked up to their opened garage.

  Either the neighbors were gone or sleeping. All the lights were off in the houses surrounding.

  “Chitty!” A guy opened his arms and Hannah leapt for him. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he caught her, and buried his head in her hair. Some of his friends laughed, swatting Hannah on her butt as the guy disappeared inside with her.

  Beth touched my arm, gesturing inside. I nodded. The music was too loud for conversation. She weaved through the crowd, glancing up a few times and waving at people as we passed by. I noted that each person would’ve gained Angie’s disapproval. They either had tattoos, piercings, or both all over them. Some of the guys were large and intimidating, but they nodded at Beth with kindness.

  It was like she instantly knew where to go because she never lingered as we went through the house. She led us right to where the keg was and passed a cup to me. Leaning close, I asked in her ear, “What about Hannah?”

  She shook her head, sipping from her own cup. “She knows the owner of the house.” She gestured to the ceiling. “She’s probably upstairs with him right now.” Nodding with her head further inside the house, she said, “Come on. I’ll introduce you to some of my friends.”

  We went to a back closed-in patio room. Couches lined against the walls with three large beanbags in the middle. People sat everywhere and stood against the wall. Two girls, nearly naked, were lying across the beanbags with two guys rubbing them. One had his hand inside the girls pants, which had been loosened and pulled down, while the other was openly caressing the girl’s breasts.

  I touched Beth’s arm and gestured to the girls. She leaned in again. “Don’t worry, those are both couples. Those girls are known for this thing, they get off on the attention.”

  Still. Live porn?

  Angie would more than disapprove. And because of that thought about my ex-best friend, I plopped down next to Beth on one of the couches. I didn’t care.

  “Beth!” A big bald guy crossed the room, lifted her up and settled her on his lap. He wore a ripped shirt over a muscular chest. His arms were covered in tattoos, as was his chest from what I could see. A large hoop hung in the bottom of his earlobe and he had a large cross tattoo that extended from the base of his skull and disappear
ed underneath his shirt on his back.

  “Sal, this is Alex,” Beth introduced us. Sal was short for Sallaway. He owned a tattoo parlor and had known Beth for two years.

  The two whispered to each other over the next hour while I sat beside them and drank my beer. When my cup would get empty, I’d go and fill it up again. Beth did the same, taking mine with her a few times until some of Sal’s friends showed up. They brought two coolers into the room, sat them beside the beanbags, and opened them to show an impressive display of hard alcohol. Bourbon. Rum. Whiskey. Bacardi. As the two couples continued to be the room’s entertainment, a bottle of Wild Turkey was opened and passed around.

  Beth took a drag and handed it over.

  The stuff smelled foul and I was full from too much beer so I passed it.

  “Hey, you need to drink.” Sal grabbed the bottle from the guy next to me. He gave it to me. “It’s a bonding thing.”

  I stared him down.

  Beth had frozen on his lap. His hand was tucked on the inside of her pocket, but her eyes were glued to me.

  I glanced at her in questioning. Was he serious? Then I shook my head. What did I care? Coolly, I handed the bottle away and said, “I don’t have to do a goddamn thing.”

  His eyes narrowed. Despite the music still blaring, the room fell silent. Sal must’ve been a big deal with these people.

  Lifting my chin, I still didn’t care.

  Beth whispered something in his ear as her hand started rubbing up and down over his chest, through a rip in his shirt. After a moment, he broke out in a grin and relaxed back into the couch. “Yeah, whatever. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

  The guy next to me took his swig of the alcohol and continued passing it on. Everyone went back to what they’d been doing. The couple progressed to complete nudity.

  When Sal didn’t pay me any attention, I went back to my beer.

  It wasn’t long until I’d gone from being buzzed to being wasted so it took me a while to register that Beth was pulling on my hand. She was saying something to me, but the beer had given me tunnel vision and tunnel hearing. It mixed with all the other noises in the house. She kept yanking at my hand and her face was masked in concern.

  I rolled my head over. Sal wasn’t paying any attention to her now. He was chatting with another girl, with his hand inside her front pocket.

  Was that why she was upset?

  I started to point at him, but my arm was so heavy.

  Beth kept tugging on my other one and I fell off the couch. Stumbling to my feet, I shook my head. Everything spun around me. Had the couches turned upside down? Ugh, no. That was me. She kept tugging at me and I tried to follow, but all the people kept getting in my way. Bumping into someone, I turned to apologize, but Beth grabbed my pants and literally dragged me behind her. She was going at a breakneck speed. I wanted to tell her I was sorry about Sal, but she was better off. He didn’t seem like a good guy. I never got a chance. When I’d open my mouth, she’d yank me through another group of people. The words kept getting swallowed as I tried not to hit anymore people.

  And then she pulled me through a doorway. The house had been overheated, but a rush of cool air blasted me. Being sweat-soaked, I began shivering and wrapped my arms around myself. It was fucking cold. I could hear a chattering and looked around for the sound, and then I realized it was me. My teeth were chattering against each other.

  “Hannah!” Beth yelled next to me.

  I clamped my hands over my ears and fell down. She was so damn loud. Glaring at her, she didn’t seem to care. She rushed forward and I swung my head to follow her direction. From the ground, I watched as she ran to a group at the end of the driveway. There was a girl with white hair, grappling with another girl with blonde hair. That hair was familiar. I frowned, scrunching my eyes together and saw it was Hannah. Ah, Hannah! She must’ve been done with the party owner. Good for her.

  Beth reached over and grabbed the white hair, then yanked the girl backwards. She began dragging her away from Hannah, who was on the ground. Why was she on the ground? Oh, I saw the blood next.

  “Hannah,” I croaked and began to go to her. When I pushed back to my feet, everything spun around me again. I took a step forward, but my body went to the right. Crashing into a chair and people, I tried to apologize again. Nothing came out. I could only mumble words. Even in my drunken state, I knew I was a mess.

  I tried to say I was sorry for that too, but someone caught my elbow and spun me around.

  Oh, the world.

  I felt vomit rising up in my throat.

  Hannah. Hannah had been beaten up. I needed to help.

  Muttering a thank you to whoever had stopped me from falling, my foot stepped forward, wavering. I waited until I regained my balance and took another step, then another step. I kept going until I reached Hannah’s side and knelt down. She was wiping blood and tears from her face.

  Oh, her poor hair. A big chunk had been pulled out. Her eyes lit with anger. She put the hair in my hands and darted off.


  I turned, hearing a familiar voice, and squinted at Marissa.

  No. Not Marissa. She couldn’t be here.

  But she was. She took my arm and lifted me to my feet. Then she wrapped an arm around my waist, asking, “What are you doing here?”

  I gave her the hair. “That’s Hannah’s.”

  “Oh.” She looked at it with disgust. “But Alex, what are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Sarah and I drove down. Cord said he was having a party and we came here to pick up Sarah’s cousin.”

  I looked around, feeling a little bit sober. “Beth and Hannah are cousins too.”


  I couldn’t see them. “They were here. I think they were fighting someone.”

  A guy was walking past, but he turned and pointed down the street. “Your friends took off. That one fucked Robbie. No way Kari was going to let her get away with that.”

  Who was Robbie and who was Kari?

  I sighed, and turned to Marissa. “What are you doing here?”

  She heaved a deep breath, frowning at me. “You’re a mess, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. It wasn’t a big secret. “Angie would not approve of my new friends.”

  She gave me a sad smile. “No. No, she probably wouldn’t.”

  A girl came over, annoyed. “She’s not here. That bitch. She probably took off with her friends already.” Then she frowned at me. “Alex?”

  Oh hell. Sarah Shastaine. Anger, jealousy, and other emotions swirled up inside of me. Then I frowned to myself. I was drunk. I wasn’t supposed to feel. That made me not like Jesse’s exgirlfriend even more. I scowled at her. “You took my friend from me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t talk, drunk girl.”

  I muttered to Marissa, “She’s not very original.”

  Patting me on the arm, she said to Sarah, “Let’s go to the party.”

  “Not with her.”

  “Yes, with her. She’s drunk. We’re not leaving her.”

  Sarah pressed her lips together.

  Marissa corrected, snapping at her, “I’m not leaving without her.”

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