BOOK ONE OF THE "BROKEN" SERIES
"He looked like Heaven. She felt like Fire."
Blaise Nightshade. A small, feisty, and vulgar high schooler with a rocky past and no future. She hides behind her snarky attitude and sexual innuendos to hide from the fac...
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Put Your Head On My Shoulder~ Paul Anka
~G A N G S T A H.~ "You're the only kid I know who hangs out with their boring, old librarian."
BLAISE TAKES a deep breathe in as she walks into the library the next week. She's decided that she was going to introduce Saint to Mr. Higgins, or Gansta H as Blaise likes to call him. He doesn't like it when she calls him that, but she doesn't care.
As soon as the two walk inside, Blaise makes a beeline to Mr. Higgins' desk. He's been the school's librarian for as long as he can remember, and seeing as he can't remember what he ate for breakfast this morning, he doesn't know how long he's worked here for. He just knows that it's been a long time. Too damn long, as Mr. Higgins would say.
"Good mornin', Gansta H!" Blaise greets, bouncing as she waits for the old, Southern, black man's reply.
"It was until you called me that dumbass name," Mr. Higgins grumbles, his Southern accent making his sentence sound a whole lot funnier than it actually is. He scratches his short, grey hair— that used to be a bomb Afro—and looks around his desk with his weary, dark brown— almost black— eyes. "Where in God's name did I put my goddamn Budweiser?" He mutters.
Blaise raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Apart from the fact that you aren't supposed to have any food or drinks in here, isn't it too early to be drinking a beer, Gansta H?"
He glances at the short Armenian girl in front of him. "Ion give a fuck if you can't eat or drink in 'ere, I should be retired. Besides, the only way I can stay awake and tolerate you kids is by drinkin' my goddamn Budweiser that suddenly disappeared..." he trails off, looking in some of the drawers.
Blaise decides not to tell him that said Budweiser he's looking for is right in front of him, and that he should put on his glasses. She grabs Saint's wrist and pulls him closer to the desk.
"Gansta H, this is my new friend Saint. Saint, this is Mr. Higgins, the bomb librarian that used to be in a gang when he was younger."
"Allegedly, Ms. Nightshade. We can't go 'round lettin' every rat in this place knowin' my past. That nosy white lady gon' kick me out."
"Which nosy white lady are you talking about? We have a lot of them here," Blaise jokes. She knows who he's talking about, she just loves to hear him complain.
"Mrs. Dalton! I don't know how that chick has a wife 'cause she is always up in my business," He complains. "Just 'cause I carry a gun into school don't mean Imma use it. As a black person in America, I gotta have protection on me all day everyday."
