A Million Shattered Pieces

Chapter Twenty

"One small crack does not mean that you are broken, it means that you were put to the test and you didn't fall apart."

Thursday morning. The second day of February. In nine days, it would be Brock's eighteenth birthday. I had a hard time coming to terms with that, that we had known each other for four months. That it had been over a month since we'd kissed. Confliction emotions of both joy and sadness surrounded me.

Brock pulled up to school, eyes filled with excitement. He turned to me. "I hope you have no plans for tomorrow. We're going on another date."

"Aren't you supposed to ask the other person before the plans are arranged?"

"Where would the fun be in that?" We both slid out of the car, hands joining once we reached the sidewalk. He chewed on his bottom lip. "That takes out the element of surprise. I need to shock you every once in a while, you know? In a good way."

I couldn't stop the grin that tugged at the corners of my mouth. "All right, fine. Where is this date to take place?"

"Same as usual."

I laughed. "Does someone miss his fish tank?"

Brock stuck his tongue out briefly, running forward to hold the door open for me. "Maybe I do. Besides, it's the nicest place out there. Unless you want me to take you to McDonald's as a date? Or perhaps another fast-food chain store?"

"I'll stick to something a bit classier. Though, there is nothing wrong with those kinds of dates."

People paid us no attention. It seemed word traveled fast, and no one cared about the odd pair anymore than the next couple.

It didn't stop my thoughts from running wild.

Brock wasn't in any of my classes this semester. We had a spare period together, but that was it. I spent my time in Spanish class, hidden behind a textbook, nose in a different book. Texting was not an option in that class. Not with Ms. Castro. The woman had a pair of eyes in the back of her head.

"How long is this date of ours supposed to last?" I asked, coming to a halt right outside my first class of the morning. Spanish. Of course.

Brock pushed my glasses up, then tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. His hand remained at my cheek. "As long as you want it to. Why would I ever rush spending time with someone as amazing as you?"

"I see the books are talking again. Do you channel them through you?"

His nose scrunched up, and he shook his head. "You don't appreciate me using the skills books taught me? I thought girls, especially you, who loves to read, would be all over it."

I leaned against the wall and smiled. "Of course, I appreciate it so much. But I just realized that the things they say in books sound super cheesy when said in real life."

"I tried, okay? I really did."

"Don't worry. You are a pro at making all the girls swoon."

Humor shone in his eyes. Brock started to lean in, the distance between us almost closed, when the bell rang, signalling the start of first period. Dozens of people appeared out of nowhere. I tried my best not to grumble over the disruption, giving Brock a quick hug before walking into the classroom. He lingered in the hallway outside a couple seconds before heading off to his own.