Broken Girls And Broken Boys

Chapter Thirty One: Any broken girl needs a broken boy

( For BookFan2025 thanks for the support it means a lot!)

The roughest chapter so far in this book. I'm sorry :(

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Something has shifted. I can feel it inside of me like a switched lever. As if someone has pulled me apart piece by piece and attempted to put me back together again. Except something is missing. Something that once was a part of me is gone.

Grant.

The missed calls on my phone are a haunting. Of every mistake and emotion I felt when he left me in the park. Every pleading text message is a reminder of the pain and guilt. How can I feel so full of shame and hurt all at once? 

It's sickening. A juxtaposition in my heart that I can't seem to rid myself of.

The corridor is lively, a stark contrast to the emotions running around my heart. Babbling girls are lent up against the bright blue lockers, applying lipstick and mascara into tiny compact mirrors. Boys chat animatedly- probably about their recent conquests. They're patting each other on the back and yelling as loud as they can.

I see Maria at the end of the hall, talking with a couple girls from her History class. Jack has his arm around her waist and is planting kisses on her cheek every time she opens her mouth to speak to her friends. A slip of guilt runs over my body- I haven't even spoken to her since she came back off holiday. 

Before she has the chance to see me, I turn back and begin to walk in a different direction. I don't know why I'm avoiding her. Maybe guilt? Maybe the fact her boyfriend drugged me at a party? Maybe because I'm not the friend I should be?

As I'm walking away from the busy corridor, I let myself get lost in a conversation behind me.

"I heard Grant has a new girl," I hear one girl mutter behind me. I turn carefully to face her and the moment our eyes connect she drops her head and says no more. The comment punches me in the gut and I fear I might fall apart at the seams.

"Who?" my voice sounds strangled and I cough to stop the tears that beg to fall down my face. Attempting a smile in her direction is a struggle but somehow I manage it- whether or not its convincing is another story. The girl doesn't answer and instead her red-head friend chips in with a smile on her face- oblivious to my internal struggle.

"Well I mean he's had a few so we're not sure which one but there defo was a girl round his last week and someone said they fucked," her smile turns into a smirk and I don't know if she's silently laughing at my reaction.

"Oh. Cool." I mumble, turning back and beginning to walk away faster than I thought was possible. Before I can escape from the girls, I hear one- I don't know which- shout after me.

"I don't know why you're so bothered Kendall. Didn't you fuck Brody last week? Bit ironic if you're upset about Grant when you did the deed too."

I feel like I've been slapped in the face. The whole corridor stills and my ears are ringing so loud that I can't hear what people are saying to me or at me or shouting about or whispering to each other.

My eyes are running through the crowd, watching gaze after gaze meet mine, each look a different reaction and yet they all merge into each other. Until-

The world has stopped. Completely. And I feel like I have no breath in my lungs to power me through another millisecond.

Brody.

Grant.

I can't tell who's reaction is worse.

Brody's face expresses both shock and pain, a combination which causes guilt to slam me in the gut over and over again.

Or Grant. Grant. Grant. Grant who is staring at me with such disgust. With revulsion. With the most intense gaze which I can't even meet. Grant who's slumped into himself. Grant who's eyes are hung with bags, heavy and filled with a kind of pain I can't even describe.

Grant.

And then, before the world can even start to turn again. Grant ploughs his fist into Brody's jaw.

The corridor errupts.

And I am lost in the wave of people chanting to fight I started. Screaming for the boys I destroyed.

Piece by piece.

Because of course, any broken girl, needs a broken boy.

Right?