Amazingly Broken Read online

  AMAZINGLY BROKEN

  By Jordin Williams

  Copyright 2013

  Get My New Releases At A Discount Here

  Like Me On Facebook

  Friend Me On Facebook

  Follow Me On Twitter

  Chapter 1

  I surveyed my travel weary face in the mirror of the airport bathroom. Running my hands through my hair, I pulled it to the side to expose my neck.

  “Oh my, dear, that looks terrible,” said someone’s grandmother.

  “It’s nothing. Luggage casualty.” Luckily, my phone vibrated to life and interrupted her. “Hey, Tiff. I’m here. Just getting cleaned up before I lug my bags to the curb.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to pick you up?”

  “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying. I’m imposing enough by crashing on your couch. I still can’t believe the registrar screwed things up so badly.”

  “Mi casa es su casa, as we learned in Sophomore Spanish,” she giggled. The sound made me feel at home immediately.

  “You know I’ll pay you some rent as soon as I find a job. And I’ll be out of there as soon as the university finds the dorm room they promised me.”

  “Don’t you dare try to pay me back. I’d rather have you owe me one anyway. I’ll text you the address. Call if you have any trouble.”

  I couldn't afford a place of my own, obviously. My father was filthy rich, so rich that he could easily afford to put me up in a nice place. Even a bad place, but neither was an option. Not by a long shot. My father was too busy getting drunk and the more I thought about him not helping me, the wheezier I felt. He was supposed to be my father. He was supposed to be a positive role model. But instead of guidance, I got abuse and I struggled to find some sense of normalcy in my life. After all, that was the reality that all my friends enjoyed. And it was something I yearned for so badly.

  Tiffany thought I needed someone to go with me to Florida. She moved early to take summer classes and that's when she met Lance, her boyfriend. I didn't know much about him, but she loved him. After just two months, typical Tiffany.

  “Will do. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I rested the phone on the counter and looked under the stalls for any more hidden grannies. I dug my concealer out of my purse, pulled my hair back, and dabbed the moldy thumbprint bruise on my neck. “This should be the last one,” I told my reflection.

  I tried to freshen up more. I didn’t want to look like an exhausted traveler on my first day in Florida. It was already clear that I wasn’t from around here. My pale skin was a dead giveaway. I quickly brushed some mascara on to bring out my eyes. I had inherited my mother’s big brown eyes, and they saved me in times like this. Actually, I inherited all of her features, but I always thought they looked better on her somehow. Her mouth was this perfect ruby pout that would break and reveal an amazing smile. Her eyes looked like jewels, and her hair was so soft and beautiful that it often caused people to ask if it was real.

  Everyone said we looked exactly alike, but I always felt like a knock-off. My father used to tell me that I looked just like her, but he stopped saying things like that a long time ago.

  For the past five years, my life had been anything but normal. I woke up every morning knowing a monster was lurking in the house. He looked like my father, but he smelled like whiskey and anger. He was short and stocky with the strength of a pit bull and when he had enough to drink, the temperament of a grizzly. By senior year it was clear that I had to get out of there.

  When I was younger, I never imagined that I would leave Iowa. I thought I’d marry my high school sweetheart (even before I had one), live down the street from my mom and dad with two kids and a dog, and live my version of their life. Nothing seemed better. Now, I was halfway across the country, dragging what I packed from my past through a strange airport in two over-stuffed suitcases.

  After making the trip to Florida by plane, I called a taxi to take me to the Tiffany's apartment. When the taxi drove into the University Street Apartments, I glanced out the window where a group of kids stood. The taxi came to a halt and I paid the cab driver before getting out of the back with my bags in hands.

  Here goes nothing.

  When I found apartment number 205, I knew it was the right place because Tiffany's laughing could be heard pouring out of the open windows. She had a way of charming everyone she met and her laughter was a big part of that. She had more zest for life in one smile than I could usually convey with my entire body. I had missed her all summer and couldn’t wait to see her. I knocked and she yelled, “Come in!”

  I gave the door a gentle push, but it went flying open as she pulled from the inside.

  “Welcome to the Sunshine State,” she said, wrapping me in a hug so tight that I could barely breathe. “Get in here. Lance, can you get her bags.”

  “Oh, I can —”

  “No, he can. You’ve been traveling all day. Sit down and tell me everything that I’ve missed.”

  “Tiff, we talk every day.”

  “Well, let me look at you.” She stood back and twirled her arm in the air, indicating that I should spin around. Of course, I did. “New haircut, very nice. Your brown curly locks are gorgeous and go so much better with your brown eyes. I’m so happy you aren’t straightening your hair anymore. And that nice firm butt and long golden legs. You’ve been working out! The guys here are going to love you.”

  I smiled. “Thanks Tiff, but I don’t need to attract any guys.”

  “I know Elana. I’m loving the outfit.”

  She was saying girly-girl things, but I could tell she was looking at every inch of available skin. Her eyes settled on my neck. “Fucking bastard. Is that it?”

  “It’s the last one. Ever.” I nodded in Lance’s direction. “Let’s not talk about that right now.”

  “Ok, ok. So, what’s new?”

  “Oh, I went to Florida for the summer to take a few classes and met a boy. We fell in love, and we moved in together. Oh wait, that wasn’t me.”

  She giggled and put her arms around Lance as he put my suitcases down next to the couch. “You’re right, that was me! This is Lance. You might know him as the bellhop at our fine hotel. We’ve reserved a lovely living room suite for you.” She slowly uncoiled her right arm from her body and directed me toward the sofa. “Continental breakfast is available at the donut shop two blocks away.”

  “Nice to meet you, finally. She talks about you all the time,” said Lance, leaning down to kiss Tiffany and stuck his hand out, grabbing mine. He was much taller than Tiffany and I. He had short black hair, pale skin, long arms and legs, small button nose, and dark brown eyes.

  “You too Lance. She doesn’t shut up about you.”

  She pushed blonde locks away from her face and smiled sweetly. She was more beautiful than I remembered. She had eyes the color of a summer sky, skin the color of fresh cream, a slender figure holding full, lush breasts, a slim flat tummy, wide hips and long slim legs atop tiny feet. There was some new spark in her eyes.

  Warmth?

  Love?

  “I really can’t thank you both enough. I need to do something to pitch in. Is there any place around here where a girl can sell a kidney?”

  “Don’t worry about it. My dad’s footing the bill for school, including room and board,” Lance grinned.

  “So’s mine,” said Tiffany. “Of course their idea of room and board aren’t nearly as grand as mine, but we make do. We’ll always have a couch for you, my dear.”

  “A free couch in Florida beats the hell out of Iowa any day.”

  “We’re gonna have a blast,” she said.

  The next few days were uneventful. College parties were raging all over campus, but I di
dn’t know anyone other than Tiffany and Lance. Technically, I didn’t need to be invited to go to a party, but I’ve never been outgoing enough to show up alone. I’m more likely to show up with a group and hide in a dark corner, checking my phone to determine how long I have to stay at the party before I was able to go home.

  Considering how little I knew about Lance, it was pushing it to list him in my circle of friends. I knew he was from north Florida, had the hots for my best friend, had a great sense of humor, and could carry luggage at least twenty feet. Normally, Tiffany would be the social trailblazer and I could follow behind her. With Lance taking up most of her free time, I had to fend for myself more than usual.

  It was exciting, but it was a bit unnerving. I needed to expand my circle of friends and find a place to live.

  Chapter 2

  Tiffany and Lance's alarm clock screamed at me through the wall. I rolled, still half asleep, and fell to the floor. It was kind of them to let me stay rent free, but the arrangement was killing my sleep schedule and my back.

  I wiped my sleepy eyes and then pulled myself off the floor and hobbled to the bathroom only to find the door closed. I knocked three times without an answer.

  “Hello!” I shouted.

  “I'm in here taking a shower!” Lance yelled.

  “My bladder is screaming. I really need to go. How long?”

  “The door’s unlocked. C’mon in. Just don’t pull back the curtain.”

  “No thanks,” I said, crossing my legs.

  I walked back into the living room, opened my suitcase, and searched for something that didn’t have that fresh-from-a-suitcase look. I chose a fitted tank top, assuming the wrinkles would disappear when the stretchy fabric pulled across my skin, and a pair of shorts. I only had forty-five minutes until my first college class started, and I desperately needed a bathroom. I could adjust to the couch, but three students and one bathroom was not working.

  I packed up my books and headed for Myter Hall. On my way to class the birds chirped as students walked down the sidewalk. It was a relief knowing that before and after class I wouldn’t have to see my father like high school. It was really a new beginning.

  I finally reached Myter Hall after a quarter of an hour. It was a large building on the south-west side of campus. Walking through the heavy front doors, I examined the entire building, from the high walls to the shallow hallways. I scrambled to find room 65E in time, hoping to stumble across a bathroom on the way. When I did, I checked myself in the mirror - clothes minimally wrinkled, hair acceptable, bruise mostly concealed. Okay for my first day.

  When I finished up in the bathroom I hurried down the hall and gently opened the door to room 65E, knowing I was late. The room was already full of students and the professor was calling everyone’s name, checking them off on a sheet of paper. I tried to slip unnoticed into a seat near the back but tripped and fell, scattering my books and drawing every eye in the room.

  “Are you okay?” a guy asked from behind me.

  “Yeah,” I grunted, embarrassing myself in my first class. He reached down and took hold of my arm, helping me off the floor. I kept my head down, my hair covering most of my face, not looking at him or any other student in the room. I was sure my cheeks were rosy red by now. I gathered my books and phone, taking my seat just as the professor called my name.

  “Elana Swanson?” he called next.

  “Here,” I said, waving my hand at him.

  Everyone was still staring at me.

  “Jaxon Culver?” the professor asked.

  “Here,” said the helpful guy behind me.

  After the professor was finished checking off absent students, he moved on to the lecture. I started jotting down the notes from the blackboard as he spoke. I heard the tapping of a pen and turned around. It was the muscular guy that helped me off the floor. As I was staring he suddenly jerked his head to move his hair; it caught the light showing his brown messy hair. Each thread fell perfectly, weaving together framing his tanned face. He tapped his pen quietly on the desk. I watched his hand which revealed his fingers that were long but strong looking, his fingernails pink and smooth, with half-moons near the cuticles. My eyes wandered up his tattooed covered arms from his wrist, to his strong forearm disappearing into the sleeve of his fitted, white V-neck T-shirt. The fabric pulled taught around his biceps, chest, and abs. I watched his hand as it moved up to rub some unknown irritant from his eye. His nose was straight and aquiline, his lips (his lips!) perfectly formed, parted slightly, his breath, I imagined, moving in and out in steady streams of air. Suddenly, he looked up and I caught a flash of his emerald eyes framed by tangled lashes before ducking my head and pretending to take notes. He didn’t look like the typical Iowa boys that I was used to. Florida was made of gorgeous tattoo looking models. Well, at least one.

  Models are actually real people.

  I could’ve used his muscles against my dad when he hit me.

  He was causing my thoughts to be sporadic.

  “You okay?” he asked, snapping me back to reality.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “I haven’t seen you before. You just starting school?”

  “Yeah,” I said, turning back to face the professor.

  “Quiet down, everyone!” Professor Jones snapped.

  “You’re the one yelling, Professor,” Jaxon replied.

  Jones narrowed his eyes, “Very funny. Anyone else have something to say?”

  I slouched in my seat, humiliated by everyone staring at us. Jones continued his lecture. When he finished I looked up and thankfully no one was looking at me anymore.

  “We’re working in teams on this one. Choose your partners wisely,” he explained as his class assistant passed the assignment requirements down each row.

  Great, I didn't know anyone in class. I asked Tiffany to take the class with me, but she said she couldn't draw. I clenched the paper in my hands and scanned the room for someone else that looked lost and alone. A hand touched my shoulder. I had a gut feeling it was Jaxon by the strong grip and large hand.

  I turned around, trying to avoid staring at him, “Yes?”

  “Want to be my partner?” he smiled suggestively. “My art partner, I mean.”

  “I know what you meant.”

  “Great then, how about we setup a date to get working on this?”

  “Um, I don’t know.”

  “Come on, who else are you going to partner with?”

  I looked around. Everyone seemed to have found a partner but him and I. I turned around again and his eyes were still locked on me as if they hadn’t moved.

  “Um, I have time on Sunday afternoon,” I said.

  “It’s a date.”

  I rolled my eyes before spinning around, but he kept popping in and out of my thoughts. Jaxon didn’t look like the guys in Iowa. Back home, that many tattoos on a body like that would be a sign of real trouble. But here, on him, it was like looking at a marble statue with a mural painted on it. Of course, none of that mattered.

  Coming to Florida was my chance to start over. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t fall into the college traps of boyfriends, drama and partying. At home, there had been enough drama and drinking to last a lifetime and this was no time for me to think about a boyfriend.

  Right before moving, my high school boyfriend, Cole, broke up with me. He wasn’t interested in a long distance relationship. It was heartbreaking at first, but it got easier every day. Regardless, everybody knows that rebounds never work. It was time to keep myself focused on school, not guys. If I got good grades I would have a chance at a scholarship which I needed more than ever.

  “Hey Jax,” a girl squealed behind me. “How's it going?” You could hear sex dripping off every syllable.

  “It's going good, Amber. I’m trying to listen,” he responded, sounding annoyed.

  “You never called me,” Amber said.

  “Seriously, Amber,” he said under his breath.

  Out of the corn
er of my eye, I caught sight of her dyed blonde hair, short jean shorts, and a tank top so small it could barely contain one of her breasts, never mind both of them. She screamed desperate. She reached out to caress his arm.

  “Jax, please,” she begged.

  Nothing the professor was saying was as interesting as trying to figure out who she was and how annoyed it was causing Jaxon to get. Was it his girlfriend? An ex? A one night stand? More importantly, why was I even interested? Concentrate on school.

  “That’s it for today,” the professor said, dismissing us.

  Thank goodness.

  I hurried out of my seat, grabbing my things and shoving them in my backpack. Maybe if nobody saw me in that seat, they would forget that I was the one who made the crashing entrance.

  “Where you headed?” Jaxon called.

  “Things to do. Places to go,” I replied, without looking back at him.

  “See you Sunday.”

  I looked over my shoulder. “Yeah, Sunday.”

  The blonde glared at me and leaned toward him, “Have a new girlfriend Jax?”

  Before I could hear his response I opened the door and it shut behind me.

  I rushed through the hallway, hearing the echo of my shoe squeak against the floor. I was hurrying to my next class. When I opened the building door a gust of wind blew in my face. I wiped the threads of hair from my forehead still walking as fast as possible. I cut down a dirt path, trying to avoid any drama between the hot guy and the desperate girl that were snapping at each other behind me. I should never have agreed to be his partner. Dirt crunched on the path behind me and I picked up my pace. It got louder and louder until a familiar hand tapped my shoulder.

  Not again.

  I looked over holding my book tightly against my chest. Just Jaxon and no Amber, yes! “You shouldn’t sneak up on a woman like that,” I said with a smile.

  No boys, no drama.

  I repeated it to myself like a mantra.

  “What? Were you thinking about pepper spraying me?” he asked, grinning back at me.