Amazingly Broken Read online

  I laughed in a way that was even annoying to me, embarrassing. “You never know.”

  “You’re the dangerous kind.”

  “Sure Jaxon, but I’ve really gotta hurry or I’ll be late for my next class.” I was relieved to see his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Your number.” He pulled up his sunglasses, revealing eyes as rich as velvet. Something in my heart stalled before kicking into high gear. “For Sunday. The art project,” he said.

  “Oh, right. Let me find something to write it on.” I dug through my purse and tried to avoid looking at him. I did not want to be THAT girl. No woman ever does.

  “Do you want to go to a party with me on Friday?” he asked.

  I almost forgot my phone number as the question ran through my head. I paused to collect myself and then finished writing mine down. I placed my pen back in my purse and folded the paper.

  “Um, no. I can’t,” I said, handing him my number. “We better stick to art.”

  “Come on,” he urged, holding my hand for longer than it takes to grab a piece of paper. “It’s what college is all about.”

  “I really can’t.”

  “Can and will. You know you want to.” He smiled like a guy who was used to getting his way.

  “No, really, I can’t.”

  I started walking again and hoped he wouldn’t follow but he did.

  “C’mon. You need to meet some people anyway. What if you need a partner in a class and I’m not there? You know I’m right.”

  “Fine, if you’ll let me go to class right now, I’ll go to the party,” I sighed.

  On the inside, I was thrilled to be asked - too thrilled. I couldn’t help but think he was probably looking for a one-night stand. I had heard stories about college guys especially the good looking ones. If Amber was any indication, he enjoyed more than a few.

  “I'll be looking forward to it,” he said in a low voice, running his hand down my back as he walked away. “I’ll text you the directions.” Hopefully Tiffany and Lance were up to going to a party.

  Chapter 3

  When I reached the apartment parking lot my phone buzzed. Realizing it was a new text message I walked into the apartment and Tiffany and Lance were sprawled out on the flower print couch.

  “Taking over my bed I see.”

  “Do you need a nap?” she asked jokingly.

  “No, but I do need someone to go a party with me,” I said smiling.

  “Elana wants to go to a party? Someone get my phone. I’ve gotta record this day in my calendar,” Tiffany teased.

  “What brought on this sudden need for fun? Is it a boy?” she asked, nuzzling Lance’s neck.

  They were like the overly happy couples from ads for dating websites. I couldn’t decide if I felt sick or jealous. “A guy mentioned it to me, but I realized it’s time to make some friends. Enjoy a little bit of college life.”

  “That’s Elana-code for ‘I met a hot guy,’” Tiffany smiled.

  “Shut up!”

  “You know it’s true!”

  “Ugh, do you two want to go or not? Otherwise, I’m going to message him that I can’t go.”

  I hoped they would say no.

  “Of course we’ll go. Right Tiff?” Lance asked.

  “Right, but we’ll have to skip the mansion.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Great.

  “What’s the mansion?”

  “A rich guy who has kick ass parties! The beer was free, an easy way to attract students. Do you know where the party is at?”

  “Well this is my first party.”

  “Don’t worry about that. We’ll be there for you. That’s the kind of friends we are. We’ll party with you through thick and thin,” Lance said, kissing Tiff.

  We walked down University Avenue toward the party and all I could think about was Jaxon. The muscles, the tattoos, and the warm feeling that washed over me when he touched my back. I needed a distraction.

  “How many people go to these parties?” I asked, feeling uneasy at the thought of being around a bunch of people I didn't know. Parties were never really my thing. Alcohol and crowds were not my idea of a good time. It was probably why I never hung out with the cool kids in high school. I never thought twice about it because I had bigger issues.

  “Hundreds or even a thousand,” Lance said, wrapping his arm around Tiffany.

  My palms began to sweat. “Does everyone get trashed?”

  “Elana, don't worry about it. We'll be with you, so you don't get carried off by some random dude,” Tiffany laughed.

  “You know I'm not that kind of girl.”

  “Well, keep it that way. This isn’t the kind of place to find Mr. Right or even Mr. Right-now,” Lance smirked.

  “I’m not looking for Mr. Anything, but it would be nice to meet some new people. You know, so I could have some friends that didn’t think every day was Valentine’s Day.”

  “If we can’t be the annoying couple in your life, what good are we,” Tiffany joked. “Seriously, be careful. Don’t drink anything anyone hands you. Maybe don’t drink anything at all. It’s always fun, but you can’t be too cautious at an event like this.”

  “That’s the worse endorsement for a party I’ve ever heard.”

  “We’ll be there,” Lance added.

  “I guess that makes up for it.”

  My phone started buzzing with text alerts.

  “Is that your hot party date?” Tiffany teased.

  “No, it’s Cole again. I’ll have to deal with it later. Why he’s so interested all of the sudden is beyond me.”

  “And Cole is?” Lance asked.

  “High school boyfriend. Very cute. Very stable. Very Iowa,” Tiffany responded.

  “He broke up with me right before I left, but he seems to be having a change of heart. He suddenly wants to talk to me.” I shoved the phone in my pocket, putting it out of my mind.

  “You’re not going to call him Elana? Come on! Don’t hold grudges.”

  “I just don’t want to deal with it now.”

  We walked in silence the rest of the way. When we reached the road that ran in front of the mansions gated yard, there was a man taking five dollars from everyone that entered.

  "Five dollars please," the cash collector said. He was a short and skinny African American man, who held his arms out from his body, tough guy.

  After he took our money, he stamped the letters URL on our hands. Making our way through the gate, I looked down the driveway and saw a gorgeous three-story mansion. Lights attached to the outside lit up every inch of the building and the grounds. Students gathered in clusters all over the lawn.

  “What's that URL stand for?” I asked, looking down at my hand, tracing the letters with my finger.

  Tiffany and Lance both looked at each other.

  “You don't know?” she said.

  “Uh, no. How would I know?”

  “I’m sorry, Elana. I thought you knew.”

  “Uh, knew what?” I replied, nervously.

  “Underground Racing League, the whole party centers around the race,” Lance said, clearing his throat. “They go on at colleges around Florida, and the winners meet here to race each other. The guy that owns this place runs the league. He’s a former champion driver. The guy who invited you didn’t mention this?””

  I stopped in my tracks. Before my mom got sick, my father raced all the time. My mom and I would spend the day outside, watching my dad, cheering for him. After he won, he’d rush over to my mother and pick her up, spinning her around and kissing her. It was as if he did the whole thing for an excuse to triumphantly embrace her. She would beam at him, her green eyes sparkling, and chestnut hair flying through the air. When I was younger, he’d carry me on his shoulder when he went to get his trophy. It was perfect. Perfect enough that it hurt to be reminded of it.

  “What's w
rong?” Tiffany asked, rubbing my shoulder.

  “I don't think I want to go,” I said.

  “You don't have to watch the race, Elana. There's a pool, music, dancing, and everything else you could want,” she said.

  “There’s no reason to be scared. This guy’s been running the league for years now. Nobody ever gets hurt,” Lance said. “It’s fun.”

  “I really don’t like racing. It’s a waste of fossil fuel.” I muttered, trying to come up with any reason to avoid it.

  “Well, if you don’t want to watch the race, we can go inside. There’s usually a great local band. I bet they’d love to loan you a microphone.”

  “What’s this? Our little couch surfer is a secret band chick?” Lance said.

  “No, it’s not like that. I used to sing with my mom sometimes. She was the real singer. I was like back-up.” Torn between singing and watching a race was not how I envisioned my get-me-away-from-my-past college experience. “Let’s watch the race. It’ll be fine,” I said still trying to convince myself.

  I didn't want to be a party pooper as Tiffany had called me so many times. It was an inner battle that I fought too many times. In high school I couldn't even watch races, which was one of the most popular things to do on the weekends in Iowa. People lived and breathed racing but I couldn't have any part of it. Too many memories that made me think of my mom.

  “Are you sure, Elana?”

  “She said she wants to. Let’s get going. It starts in less than five minutes,” Lance shouted, pulling Tiffany through the crowd and me with her.

  Other kids ran by us in a hurry, shouting to each other over the noise. I heard Jaxon’s name floating through the crowd and when I looked to see where he was I couldn’t find him anywhere. It must have been someone else.

  “You coming?” Tiffany shouted, tugging my wrist.

  When we reached the mansion a group of college students were standing in a huge circle, shouting and hollering. By the sound of the names being yelled back and forth, and arms flailing about I knew the races were about to start.

  Lance let go of her arm and pushed to the front of the crowd. She let go of my wrist to follow after him, so I picked up the pace. We managed to get a good view of the starting line. So close that we could feel the vibrations as the drivers revved their powerful engines.

  There was still time to walk away, but something made me stay. I couldn’t start a new phase of my life by running away from anything that reminded me of the past. If this was college life, I needed to embrace it.

  The sharp bleating sound cut through the humid air. In the middle of a swarm of kids stood an older guy holding a bull horn in one hand and an air horn in the other.

  “Everyone ready for the quarterfinals?” he shouted, blowing the air horn. Hollering roared from the crowd as he swung his arms through the air. “These are gonna be the best races you see all fucking year! I'm Jim Davis and I run this show! If you've been here before, you know the rules! If not, then listen up. Stay outside the chalk outlined track. Don't touch the drivers or cars. That includes you too, girls!”

  I looked down at the white line where the two muscle cars sat, nervously gripping Tiffany's arm as she took hold of Lance. We were surrounded by a herd of girls who looked like they belonged in a Victoria’s Secret catalog, not at a race. They were screaming one name over and over: Jaxon.

  What the hell?

  My thoughts were immediately halted by the buzzer. But upon closer inspection, there was absolutely no question. Jaxon was behind the wheel of one of the cars. I could see his art covered arms gripping the wheel.

  “He's the only undefeated driver; let's hear it for Jaaaaxon!” Jim yelled.

  Jaxon raced muscle cars? If this was a sign from the universe, it was clearly telling me to avoid him.

  Inviting me to a party to watch him race was a cheap way to show off. Florida was turning out to be more like Iowa all the time. In high school, guys showed off with their cars and the sports they played, even if they weren't good. Apparently guys didn’t change because the location changed. Unfortunately for Jaxon, he didn’t impress me at all.

  “His opponent is none other than the beast from the big east, Dallas!” Jim shouted. “When I blow this horn twice, the race starts. Are you fucking ready?”

  The crowd of kids hollered over the engines.

  Then the guys revved their engines again and the crowd roared even louder. I squeezed Tiffany’s arm, wondering why I agreed to watch.

  The horn blared twice.

  Car tires squealed and spun, flinging dirt into the air, hiding the cars behind a cloud of dust. It was easier to listen to the race than see it. The engine noise became quieter as they got farther away from us. As the smoke dissipated, we could see break lights on both cars and it looked like they were only inches apart. The crowd went wild at the finish line, but it was impossible to hear which name they were shouting.

  “Who won?” I shouted.

  “I don’t know! We’ll find out when they get back!” Tiffany yelled back.

  The cars turned around and moments later the drivers made their way back to the starting line. The engines echoed against the buildings that were surrounding us. They parked and the engines went silent. Both guys were yelling as they pulled themselves through there open windows. They both looked angry as they took off their helmets and got out of their cars. There were scratches going down the side of each car and you could tell that they traded paint.

  Wow.

  Jaxon stood, looking at his car; Dallas charged over to him shouting, “You fucking cheated!”

  He brought his fist up and swung at Jaxon. He avoided the blow and pushed Dallas back. “Being better than you isn’t cheating, asshole.”

  I hid my face behind Tiffany. Violence wasn’t fun or exciting to me. But it was almost impossible not to watch Jaxon. Every muscle in his arms appeared to be flexed. I could hear him breathing from thirty feet away, like a bull facing off with a toreador.

  Dallas came at him again. Jaxon used his left hand to block the punch and gave him a right hook to the jaw. Dallas stumbled back, but it was clear that Jaxon wasn’t backing down. He rammed his knee into Dallas' side, knocking him to the ground. Dallas clutched his ribs while Jaxon lit into his face. Blood started to stream down Dallas' face falling to his knees. Jaxon didn't stop as his knee made contact with Dallas' face over and over. Dallas fell back with his legs underneath him.

  "Come on you fucking puss!" Jaxon shouted, banging his bloody hand to his chest before raising it in the air. The volume exploded even higher. “The winner of the race,” Jim said, pausing to look down at Dallas, “and fight is none other than Jaaaaxon!”

  “How many times do you need to lose to me in one night?” Jaxon shouted. Turning to the crowd, he raised his fists in the air in a show of victory.

  Chapter 4

  Lance walked over to Jaxon’s car and seemed to be examining it. “Is that safe, Tiff? One of those guys just gave the other a serious beating.”

  “What? Lance? Yeah, he’s —”

  Interrupting her, I said, “I really want to get out of here and can find my way back to the apartment. You two stay and have fun.”

  “You know that’s not gonna happen. What’s wrong?”

  “What do you think Tiff? Fighting. Racing.”

  “So it did make you uncomfortable? Wait here Elana.”

  She ran over to Lance and said something before kissing him, prompting a round of whistles and catcalls from the crowd. She whispered in his ear before she came back over to me, taking my arm and walking away from the party.

  “He’ll be home later. We need some girl time anyway.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, we’ve spent enough time together. Let’s go,” she said, wrapping her arm around me.

  I didn’t say much on the walk home, and Tiffany knew enough to give me quiet time. Jaxon was tall and built like a model. He didn’t look anything like my stocky father, but I saw my fathe
r get out of the car after the race. I saw my mother run over to him wearing a white eyelet sundress, her dark ponytail swaying with each step. I saw my father reach down and pick me up. He carried a younger me resting on his hip with one arm and the other arm around my mother’s waist. The sun was so bright and the sky so blue that it looked like a cartoon. They walked past me into their perfect Saturday afternoon and I could smell my mother’s perfume on the breeze. When the fighting started, the whole scene disappeared in an instant.

  “You okay?” She kept her arm around my shoulders and gave me a hug.

  “I’ll be fine. It’s just been a busy week.”

  “Thinking about your dad?”

  “My mom and dad. Remember how they were?”

  “They were the best. The absolute best Elana.”

  I leaned into her as we went up the stairs and let tears fall down my face. It was the first time since leaving home I had cried, and it was overdue.

  Tiffany and I watched television until Lance got home an hour later. I fell asleep after a quick shower on the living room couch. It was my bed for now and secretly wished a dorm room opened up as soon as possible.

  About two hours later, a loud knocking on the other side of the wall woke me up - Tiffany and Lance did not grasp the concept of sound traveling through walls very well. I sat up on the couch waiting for the noises to stop. They didn’t. The bed crashed against the wall even louder and it was followed by a loud knocking at the front door. I turned on the light and wiped some dried tears from under my eyes, trying to figure out what to do. Should I interrupt the love birds or risk answering the door alone in the middle of the night?

  “What the hell,” Lance rushed out of the bedroom wrapped in a sheet. I shrugged.

  “Lance! Let me in, buddy. Time to celebrate.”

  He opened the door and Jaxon stumbled into the apartment. “Did ya see that, man? Crushed it. That Dallas is a fucking asshole. I owned that sonofabitch!”

  “I know, brother. You nailed it.”

  After Jaxon finally made it to the center of the living room, his eyes went wide when he looked over at me on the couch. Tiffany emerged from the bedroom, hair tousled, wearing an oversized t-shirt.