Free Broken by Marianne Curley

today, so I’ll be meeting Skinner again to update him on my progress with breaking Ebony up from Thane.
    I used to love my free periods. Now they’re just another facet of my life that sucks.
    After Ebony left my room last night, I wanted to sleep and forget the day I had. But when I closed my eyes I slipped straight into a dream where Skinner was waiting to take me on a guided tour.
    He showed me the capital, a city of high-rise buildings with a river running through it, where the enslaved souls work for dark angels. Whatever skills the soul had when it was living stay with them when they die. If a dark angel could use your skills, you could be lucky enough to live with his or her family. But if you don’t have any you get sent to one of many factories – the one kind of place you don’t wanna end up.
    The air in the capital stinks with the horrible stench of decaying flesh from any number of dying animals. Wild beasts, in particular, will jump off cliffs in their constant hunt for fresh food. On a calm day, the pungent odour of toxic smog settles over the city courtesy of endlessly erupting volcanoes that plague the wider landscape. Two deeply coloured moons illuminate the night with purple light, while in the daytime, if you’re lucky, you might catch a glimpse of a dull red sun.
    Man , I can’t wait to get there. Where do I board the train?
    I get outta bed and take a long hot shower. It helps my mood a bit, so I throw my uniform on and head down to the kitchen. Ebony is already there, standing at the bench wrapping a sandwich.
    ‘I made lunch for you,’ she says, handing me a bulging paper bag without making eye contact.
    ‘Thanks.’ Cautiously, I ask, ‘Does this mean I’m forgiven?’
    She shrugs. ‘Maybe.’
    ‘Are you saying you’re OK with what happened last night?’ I lean forward enough to check out her face. ‘You saw things, didn’t you? Things I was imagining us doing together?’
    Two bright spots of colour appear on her cheeks as she looks up and our eyes fleetingly connect. ‘You have quite an imagination,’ she says, wrapping her sandwich for like the tenth time.
    I can’t believe how easy she’s making this for me. No yelling, screaming or even throwing sharp implements at my head. I don’t deserve her leniency. I’m the one planning to have her heart crushed. ‘I’m not thinking those things all the time.’
    ‘Whoa, that’s good to know. Thank you, Jordan, I can go to school now and not think you’re imagining me naked all day.’
    I’m not missing the sarcasm; I’m ignoring it because I don’t wanna fight and lose her friendship. And, well, when she dumps Thane, she’s gonna need a friend. ‘Does this mean you can read my thoughts now like Thane does?’
    She waves her hand in the air dismissively and pops her lunch in her backpack. ‘I wasn’t reading your thoughts last night. I saw images, and I think that was because we were sitting so close together when we were . . .’
    ‘Kissing.’
    She flicks a glance at the opening to the dining room as if checking for the quickest exit. ‘I was going to say “touching”, but . . . look, about that . . . kiss.’
    ‘I know. I get it. The Guardian thing.’
    ‘It did things to your head last night, and since your mind was already pliant from the vodka . . .’
    She leaves the rest hanging, but turns to me with a determined look on her face. ‘I’d like to forget what happened last night.’
    ‘Sure.’ At least she’s still talking to me. I lift her backpack from the bench, but she takes it from me. ‘Ebony, can I ask you something?’
    She tilts her head to the side. ‘What is it?’
    ‘Do you really believe you’re my Guardian Angel?’
    Her forehead creases as she pierces me with a hard stare. ‘Where is this going?’
    I woke this morning knowing only that the darker my thoughts get, the more vital my need to keep Ebony in my life, and there are two things standing in my way – Thane, who’s going