Book Two:Fixed, But Broken Series

Chapter One

Rumors. At least your spreading something else besides your legs.

Dallas kept her face blank as her mother and her Probation officer talked.

"There's a camp called Blue River," Officer Daniel explained, "If she attends during the course of the whole summer and passes we'll clear her record."

"I'm Good," Dallas said standing up and stretching, "Bye Pete, tell Elaine I said Hi. Let's go Mom."

"Dallas Elizabeth Calhoun," Her mother scolded, then she looked at the middle aged man with a smile, "We'll take it."

I slammed foot against the Blue River's shiny Charter floor and earned a glare from the other kids, "Gotta a problem?" I snapped.

They turned away and I smirked, yeah fools I'm one scary SOB (at the moment I am technically a DOB).

I took my frustration out on the chair in front of me, earning the attention of it's occupant, who turned around with a glare that rivaled mine.

"Stop. It." He ground out.

He was hot. (Yes I have a one-track mind) and he had two different colored eyes.

One was a peculiar Jade green and the other Midnight blue.


A 'WTF' look crossed his face and the whole bus was staring at us.

Then I winked at him and flicked him in his hard chest (Ohm I felt abs, way hot dude).

"Got milk man-boobs?" I said with a dead-serious facial expression.

"What The F-"

"Hi there! I'm the camp counselor Fiona! Blue River's is a place for college kids with records and bad behavior to have there slate cleaned. So please follow these rules," The freakishly perky lady pointed to a Black sign embossed in glass.















I laughed at the last one, "You spelled YOU wrong."

Fiona looked at it and blinked, "Oh yes, Good Job Camper! You get a Free Midnight Snack Pass!"

Smooth Cover up Ginger.

I lugged my bags behind me and I guess I was pouting because another way to happy Camp Leader guy walked up to me.

"Why the frown, Kid?"

"I don't know Adult," I said cheerfully, "I'm almost 20 years old but My mom can still force me to go to camp. I'm not exactly Camp-Side Barbie, Ken."

Yes. His name tag really said Ken.

"What's your name camper?" He said raising an eyebrow coldly.

Oh no! Ken Doll can glare!

"Dallas Calhoun, where's my cabin."

"14," He answered when I walked off he yelled at me to come back, I just flipped him the bird and kept walking.

1...2...3...4...Tree...Picnic table...5...slutty girl in a short skirt flirting with a fifty year old counselor...6...7...8...9...10...someone cussing and dragging a million bags...11...12...13...14!

I trudged into the cabin but raised my eyebrows at the sign hanging from the screen door.



They said sex was against the rules right? So put a bunch of rebellious college-age kids in a dorm and tell them not to bang...

What do they think we're going to do? Play twister?

I sighed as I looked at the four, uncomfortable looking beds spread out in each corner of the room.

I set my stuff down on the bed on the left side of the room and fished for my mini cooler full of chocolate milk and coke-cola's.

I just sat there chugging my chocolate milk until the door swung open and their standing with three duffel bags was the hot guy I'd tormented on the bus.

I had this huge Cheshire cat grin on my face, "Whassup Man-Boobs!"

I thought he was about to turn and walk out of the room but he just set his bags on the furthest side of the room and walked off.

Another guy walked in the room and he was pass hot, he was just plain out sexy (I'm Beginning to like this camp) He had short blonde hair that had a sexy-bed head look, tan skin, super nice build, and the prettiest sapphire blue eyes I'd ever seen, seriously my sister Petal had these crazily pretty electric blue eyes, he could melt butter with those orbs.

"I want that bed," He said setting down his bags and waiting for me to move.

Despite my love for hot guys (sorry if I sound easy to you)

I DISLIKED being TOLD what to DO.

"And? I want a million dollars, a Sharpie Lamborghini, David Beckham, Benjamin Stone, but do I get them? No. So shut Up and park it."

The guy smirked, "Feisty, Huh? That turns me on."

I smiled and batted my eyelashes, "I bet a lot turns on your prepubescent mind, my amazing face and smoking hot body being one of 'em," I crossed my legs and the smile slipped off my face, "Consider me the Meghan Fox poster on your wall. You can masturbate to me but you can't touch darling..."

He stared at me, probably amazed at my audacity.

"What?" I said raising my eyebrows with a snort, "Trying to pull some lame Jedi Mind tricks?"

"This is going to be an interesting summer," He laughed and I had the uncanny feeling I'd just dug myself into a hole I definitely didn't have a chance of crawling out of.

I had just gotten out of the shower, pulled on some under-wear and some shorts to sleep in when some super-short pixie chick barged in.

"I need to fix my hair," She explained.

I shrugged and tugged down my flannel mickey mouse shirt.

Then I pulled my hair back in a bun and walked the short distance to my bed, the hot blonde guy whistled and I had to admit he had to have a pretty big ego if he could take my verbal blows and still be an arrogant pig. Huzzah for him.

I curled up under my cool, fluffy, silky feeling comforter with a sigh.

The floor creaked and I sighed, "Put that snake near me or my bed and I'll castrate you with a rusty butter knife."

"Feisty, babe," He called back cheerful, "It really does things for me ya know."

"Just like a slut's mouth on a boring Friday night, right Babe?" I said with a yawn.

"Yeah, we had fun at the movies yesterday didn't we?"

Today was Saturday. Touche douche, touche.

"Yeah too bad that creepy old lady cut in..."

I could hear him shudder, "That's really disgusting..."

And then "Who told you about that weird old lady who kept flirting with me at the mall?"

I started snickering and then it turned to full blown laughter.

"Shut-up!" The brown haired guy yelled.

"Geesh Man Boobs," I yelled back, "I think you should go to a doctor, I hear it's strange for real men to PMS!"

He grumbled angrily and I smirked into the darkness, it was probably dangerous for me to screw with a kid who had a record.

But hey! I liked to live on edge, and if I got shanked or shot I would guilt-trip my mom until I died.