Read Online Shattered by Sarah N. Harvey - Free Book Online

we were even. He hurt me. I hurt him. I was trying to forgive him, and he was trying to forgive me. He was going to be okay. So was I. Maybe I didn’t have my perfect life anymore, but I had something different. Something better.
    â€œYou’ve changed,” Nat said one day in late August. She was leaning on the counter of Castle Gifts, watching me cash out. “And I don’t mean just your hair.”
    â€œI like my hair. It’s easy.”
    â€œWouldn’t hurt to touch up your roots though,” Nat said as I locked up.
    â€œMaybe get a professional to tidy it up.”
    â€œI guess. I’ll do it before we go back to school, okay?”
    Nat nodded. “At least you’re not wearing your mom’s clothes anymore.” She shuddered. “And the runners…”
    I laughed and looked down at my feet. I had bought some new sandals the week before. Comfortable but cute. That was my new motto.
    We passed Hazel’s corner on our way to Lens Crafters to choose new frames. I hadn’t seen her since the day of the haiku. I checked her corner every day on my way to and from work, but it was always empty. As if it was waiting for her.
    Someone called my name. I turned and saw a skinny girl with a shaved head and a lot of piercings standing in the alcove where Hazel used to sit.
    â€œI’ve got something for you,” she said.
    â€œYou know this chick?” Nat asked.
    â€œNope,” I said.
    â€œI’m a friend of Hazel’s,” the girl said.
    I stepped toward her, and she opened her denim jacket. A small gray head peeked out.
    â€œBasho!” I cried. “Where did you get him? Where’s Hazel?”
    I reached out and Basho jumped into my arms.
    â€œShe’s gone,” the girl said. “After she got out of rehab, her folks came and got her. Took her back to Alberta.”
    Rehab. That explained a lot.
    â€œWhy didn’t she take Basho?” I asked.
    Basho butted my hand with his head.
    The girl shrugged. “Dunno. Allergies, maybe? She told me your name. Where to find you. She said you’d pay me.”
    â€œShe did?”
    â€œMarch, it’s a scam,” Natalie hissed.
    â€œHazel’s probably at some crack house waiting for the money.”
    I ignored her and handed the girl most of my cash. My new glasses could wait.
    â€œHazel said you’d do the right thing.”
    The girl turned and walked away from us. Basho nibbled my hand.
    â€œYou hungry, little guy?” I said.
    â€œYeah, and probably flea-infested too,” Nat said. “But he is kinda cute.”
    I nodded and buried my face in Basho’s fur.
    Dear Augie,
    I’ve been memorizing a poem for you. I found it in a book I bought at a secondhand store. It’s called “The Waking.” It has the best last stanza ever. Even better than “Sestina.”
    This shaking keeps me steady. I should
know.
    What falls away is always. And is near.
    I wake to sleep, and take my waking
slow.
    I learn by going where I have to go.
    I recite it to myself every night before I go to sleep. I imagine that somewhere in Alberta Hazel is listening. I’m working on Mom and Dad to let me visit you in Germany. I’ve already signed up for a German class at school. And it turns out my boss, Jason, knows German too. You’ll meet him and the twins when you visit. I can’t wait to see you.
    Ich liebe dich,
March