Hello, I realize that I am completely late. Most people would think that now that I am on summer break, that I can all of the sudden write more and more, but in fact, I am more busy now than I was while school was actually in session. I am taking summer school right now, and the course is a lot harder than I expected. I also have volleyball four times a week, instead of two, with the occasional three times a week. Once I finish summer school in three weeks (I swear it feels like three years.) I will try to partake in weekly uploads. I cannot wait until you guys read the ending.

So we might as well begin.

Broken: Chapter 27

Broken Pieces

Fang

The masses rushed passed me as the bell rang through the halls. "All I'm saying is that if someone starts pulling guns out on me, I'd definitely deflect all of them. Bad guys always have bad aim." Iggy joked.

I rolled my eyes; he obviously didn't know his bad-guy etiquette, "That's only in movies, dumbass. I'm talking about reality."

"Hey, what about nonfiction movies?" He asked, as he leaned against the red and white lockers. Red and white were our school colors, and the faculty liked to display them to the world. The floor in the hallways were checkered red and white. The tables in the cafeteria were red with our mascot in white, the eagle. The lockers were white with a single stripe of red on them. The explosion was so much that when I first walked into the school, I wondered if I had become colorblind to all colors except red and white.

I laughed full-heartedly, "Yes, because those are always so interesting," Iggy's attention span had faded away from the topic as he saw Kayla walking by. She avoided his glance, "Has everything been alright between you and Kayla?" I asked.

His eyes darted from her to me, "What? Oh. Um, I don't know, dude. She's been all distant. Like, I've tried asking her about it and she says that it's nothing, which as I have learned from a lot of mistakes in the past, never means nothing. And I've tried to hang out with her, but she always has her excuses. I think she's going to break up with me." He sighed. I was disappointed. Kayla and Iggy were good together, and I knew that Iggy really liked her. The only thing was that Kayla was never that much into it. At least, that was from what I could tell. She was at first, of course. Though, I had my suspicions that she was only trying to get back at Ethan for cheating on her. That was the thing about Kayla; you could never tell what she was really thinking unless she wanted you to know.

I decided I would bring it up with Max or Lauren for Iggy, "Don't worry man. Kayla's totally into you." I lied.

"Yeah," he said, slightly off in space, "You're probably right." I really hoped I was. Iggy moved on to his next matter of business, "Anyways, Max told me that you found out about the whole Jeb thing." He brought up casually. I never had any idea how he could be so laid-back about everything all the time. "As her best friend, I do have to have to warn you that if you tell absolutely anyone, and she gets in some kind of trouble, I will chop your balls off, purée them, and feed them to you as dinner."

I looked mockingly at him, "Are you telling me you want to cook me dinner? Well, I thought you were into Kayla, but I guess you're not."

He rolled his eyes at me, "Seriously Fang, this is a big deal." This was one of the few times I heard him talk so intensely. His previous calmness had faded away.

"I promise I won't tell anyone. I'll even pinkie swear if you want." I said, holding up my pinkie towards him. He shoved me against the locker playfully and continued walking down the hall. "So who else knows?" I asked nonchalantly.

Iggy answered, "You, me, Nudge, Jeb, and Dylan. And Max of course."

My eyes widened a bit at the sound of Dylan's name. Dylan had been bitter about the break-up thing with Max. I saw him around school sometimes when he was with his new friends. He'd always scoff names at me, but I'd ignore them. He was just mad that I kissed Max, even though it was really no big deal. At least, that's what I kept telling myself. "Dylan knows? Don't you think that he might tell someone since they broke up?"

Iggy shook his head, "Nah, you may hate Dylan, but he's chill. Max, Dylan, and I all used to be best friends. He wouldn't tell Max's secret, even if it ended badly. He's known Max since she was, like, 5. Besides, he's not mad at Max, he's mad at you."

I scoffed, "I noticed."

"He really isn't so bad. You just think of him as a villain in the sadistic movie of your life." Iggy noted, as he bumped into Marcel Sands.

Marcel was a British student who was about 18 years old, a senior. He had pale skin and light blonde hair with mischievous green eyes to match. He was obviously muscular, because he played soccer with Iggy and me. Marcel had moved from Wales when he was about six years old, but he had always kept the accent. I suspected he made sure to keep it in order to swoon the ladies, which was pretty easy for him to do. It was one of the multiple reasons why I couldn't stand the guy. Marcel was the typical, cocky pretty-boy that every high school has. It sucked he was so obsessed with being cool, because he was a decent soccer player. He could have probably gotten a scholarship somewhere if he wasn't throwing a party every other weekend and getting wasted. Instead, he was going to University of Santa Barbara, as an undeclared student. He told the team he only accepted there because he heard it was a party school.

He was wearing the British soccer jersey. It was a bright red with the word 'Britain' on the back. He fit in perfectly with the school. I thought I had heard him ranting about how Britain was out of the World Cup. "Oh sorry blokes. Oh, hi Iggy. Fang. Did you hear about the party I'm throwing on Saturday? I'm having all of the futbol players over"- It infuriated me that he said "Futbol" even though he started playing soccer in the U.S.- "to my house to celebrate getting into the championship games." He chirped.

Iggy looked interested, but I was apathetic. I was planning on hanging out with Max this Saturday. Plus, I wasn't a party-guy anymore. "My dad owns a beer company, so I might be able to hook us up, if you know what I mean." He said in his irritable accent. He walked off with his other posse of guys trailing behind.

Iggy turned toward me, "Do you think you're going to go?" He asked.

I scoffed, "Of course not. I hate Marcel. He acts all high and mighty, even though he's only a year older than us. Plus, I'm planning on hanging out with Max this weekend." As if on cue, Max walked by on the other side of the hall. She stood outside a classroom, I think it was the Chemistry classroom. With a quick wave, I motioned for her to come join us. She glanced straight at me, with a pained look. She quickly stalked away in the opposite direction. I could almost see the smoke rising from her ears.

"You might want to run that through with her first, cause she looks pissed."

Crap. Again?

I tried to catch up with Max before lunch. I planned to talk to her about Kayla, and about hanging out this Saturday. I didn't want her to be any more pissed at me than she already was.

She had just finished up class in AP English. Max had told me earlier that she hated the class, especially the book they were reading, The Scarlett Letter. She hated how there was such a double standard: the adulterer, Hester Prynne, was condemned by the world and slut-shamed; while, Arthur Dimmesdale is respected, even though he was the person Hester had sex with.

"Even with Roger Chillingworth's personal vendetta against Dimmesdale," Max had complained earlier, "The entire town scorns Hester, while Dimmesdale's all good cuz he's the minister, so he must be holy ground."

I remembered reading The Scarlett Letter in sophomore year; I liked it. I always liked books. Not to an obsessive point, of course, but it was a good way to pass the time. I used to be really into old classics, which was why English was always my best class. If I were to ever go to college, I thought, I would major in English. That way all I would have to do is read.

I knew that Max hated reading. She thought it was a waste of time, even though I had recommended a lot of good ones. I guess she would have rather being a genius than a book fanatic, "I've never read I book I liked," She had preached.

"What about children's books? Like Harry Potter?" I had replied.

She had scoffed, "The Harry Potter Series is way to long and way to big. I wouldn't be able to finish that in a million years."

Max had the same annoyed face that she always had when she left English class. "Busy seminar about how the "A" meant more than just adulterer?" I asked. She ignored my comment. "Or did you get a new assignment for a new book? Have you even started it, or are you just gonna watch the movie?" She was silent still. She tried to escape from my pestering with the rushing people going the other way.

"Is there something you need, Nick? I'm busy and I have to go." She said formally. Why had she called me Nick?

I was confused. I hadn't done anything wrong, not that I had noticed. All that had happened in the last few days between us was the whole Jeb thing, and in the instance, I was the hero and Jeb was the dragon I needed to slay. I followed her into the cafeteria. "Is there something wrong, Max?" She avoided my glance, "Come on, Max. Why aren't you looking at me? Did I do something? Did you do something? I swear whatever it is, we can get through this." I grabbed her hand in reassurance. She yanked it away, and reluctantly glared up toward me.

"I need to go, Nick. Can you please leave me alone for once?" She walked out of the cafeteria, that same pained look still present.

"And then she completely ditched me. Like, what the hell?" I said, perplexed. I could tell Iggy wasn't listening. He was probably worried about Kayla, "And then a monkey barged through the window and started screaming, 'Bloody Murder.' Then five people died." I lied.

Iggy yawned, as his folded arm slipped, causing him to hit his head on the table. His eyes darted open. The white table, to add. We were sitting in the school library, a place generally unvisited, which was good for when Iggy and I just wanted to talk. "Good to know that you like to help me with my problems."

"I'm sorry, but do you ever talk about anything other than Max?" Iggy sighed. Iggy seemed irritated, but Iggy was often irritated nowadays.

But Iggy was right, More times than not, the conversation always seemed to dwindle down to Max. Whether it be the newest reason why she was mad at me, or Jeb's crazy obsession of hurting her, or the mystery that she had surrounding her twenty-four seven. I did not think whether it would actually bother Iggy. Max was his best friend. But that was an obvious mistake for me. It was obvious that I should not have thought that. Of course Iggy didn't want to talk about Max all the time.

"Look dude, I don't know why you and Max keep on playing this sick game. You hate each other, then you decide that you don't hate each other, then someone does some shitty thing-" The librarian turned her glaring eye toward us, "and then you guys forgive each other. The cycle just keeps on repeating itself. And it's so tiring to everyone, except yourself."

I did not want to put Iggy in this situation, but I had. I imagine hat it was hard for Iggy, constantly having to be the middle man between Max and I. He must have been exhausted. "Okay, man I get it. I'm been a crappy-" The librarian glanced harshly at us- "friend."

Iggy shook his head in disgust, "No, you don't get it. I've dealt with this shit-" Another death glance from the librarian- "All fucking-" Another- "year. I mean, why do you guys keep doing this to each other? I mean do you hate her? Do you like her? Nobody understands, and you're punishing absolutely fucking-" Another- "everyone by jumping back and forth. So what are you? Are you friends, are you enemies? Just pick one!" He yelled. Now almost everyone, (all of about five people in the library,) was looking at us.

So, what were we? This wasn't just one single person's decision. I couldn't just declare us friends, if Max hated me. And I couldn't just declare us enemies, if Max didn't hate me. I sighed heavily, the amount of drama I had been placed with since Max entered into my life was enormous. It had never crossed my mind that a simple definition could be what stopped all of that; a definition of Max's and my relationship. Were we in fact friends? Or were we more? Were we in fact enemies? Or did we lay in the broken pieces that intertwined with both?

And so, if only to be completely honest to Iggy about what we were, I could only answer a simple, "I don't know."

This chapter was extremely difficult to write, so I might say that this was one of my favorite chapters. So far at least. But I have much to come in only the few chapters that are remaining. Just as a reminder, there are in fact 8 chapters left, including an epilogue.

Please PM me if you have questions about the story, about my writing, or anything else.

I would expand this author's note, as I used to in the past, but I have realized recently that when someone adds a long author's note, it is mostly because they want to have the chapter be longer. I would not like to do that, (even though by telling you my observation, I am unintentionally created a larger chapter.)

Stay awesome.

~Maximum Reading