Broken Read Free

in classes before
moving. I didn't offer any additional information, so she tried to
defuse the awkwardness by asking about electives.
    I answered numbly, picking out classes nearly
at random. I already knew a school this size wouldn't have anything
truly interesting. I'd never been willing to dedicate the time
required to learn a musical instrument. I'm passable at drawing
scenery, but anything more complicated than a stick figure give me
fits, so art was out too. Unless possibly the teacher liked
Neolithic cave drawings.
    By the time I surfaced from my musings, Mrs.
Pendely had printed my schedule out on an ancient piece of
machinery, handed me a map of the school, a locker assignment, and
dashed off a handwritten note to my first teacher.
    I somehow found my first class before the
bell rang. Mrs. Sorenson, my biology teacher, was a skinny old
woman with curly white hair that looked like Greek paintings of
Medusa. She made me introduce myself to the class and then let me
slink over to my assigned seat.
    I left the class even more depressed than I'd
been when I woke up. I'd kind of known I'd have an incredible
amount of material to catch up on from the first part of the
semester. I hadn't anticipated that every other student was going
to spend the class carefully ignoring me.
    I'd never really fit in, but this was
unbelievable. New students could always count on someone to offer
to be their friends. I'd seen it a dozen times before as people had
moved in. The really attractive people got drawn into the popular
circles, less cool people were offered a place with the punks, the
nerds, or at least with the drug users, who didn't care as much
what you looked or acted like as long as you were hooked on
something illegal.
    I knew I had serious problems, but I didn't
think they were obvious to everyone that looked at me. English was
next, and odds were it would be a nearly exact repeat of Biology,
possibly minus the awkward introduction.
    The thin, distinguished looking teacher
absently accepted my proffered form, starting a little when I
didn't leave. "Right then, I suppose you need a signature?" The
accent was so British I half-wanted to ask him how he ended up in
Sanctuary.
    I nodded, scanning his desk while I waited.
Whethers, Mr. Whethers.
    "Right then, I believe there is a vacancy
next to Ms. Samuels in the back."
    People were still trickling into the room, so
at least I was spared the full gantlet, but the few gazes I met
were still unfriendly until I reached the last table.
    The skinny-ish blond girl already at the
table smiled at me as I sat down. "Hi, I'm Britney."
    I didn't know what to make of her. She looked
like the type who was always on the fringe of the popular crowd.
She was the girl who was the first to follow whatever fad happened
to be in, and the first to turn on someone if it would make her
just a tad more acceptable to her peers.
    I mumbled a response, something that wasn't
rude, but which couldn't be mistaken as pleading for friendship.
Those kinds of girls loved to laugh at the 'poor, desperate,
friendless' types behind our backs.
    "You must be Adri Paige. I hope people
haven't been too terrible to you."
    "Adriana." I spent too much time correcting
my mom. It came out a little rude. I would have tried to smooth
things over but I was too busy trying to brace myself against the
panic attack I was sure was coming. My vision swam for a moment,
but all the practice compartmentalizing my mind seemed to be paying
off.
    I looked up. Britney looked a little
crestfallen. She was probably deciding to ask for a different seat
assignment after class.
    "Sorry about that. I don't really like it
when people shorten my name. Bad associations with nicknames and
all that."
    Britney's smile was only a pale imitation of
the brilliant thing she'd flashed a few moments previously, but it
signaled a willingness to try and make small talk at least.
    "How did you know my name?"
    "Oh, that's easy. Sanctuary is the smallest
town on