Fracture Me (Shatter Me, #2.5)

by Tahereh Mafi

She’s not a soldier; she doesn’t know how to fight; and she has no idea how to use her powers, not really, which makes things even worse. It’s basically like giving a toddler a stick of dynamite and telling him to walk into a fire.

“But what other choice do we have?” Juliette asks. She’s like the second coming of James.

I might walk onto that battlefield with a beating heart and be dragged off with a dead one.

Kenji grins. “Okay then. Let’s go get our girl back.” “My girl,” I correct him. “She’s my girl.” Kenji snorts as we head in the direction of the compounds. “Right. Minus the part where she’s not actually your girl. Not anymore.” “Shut up.” “Uh-huh.” “Whatever.”

The tension is so thick it’s practically its own person, taking up a seat we don’t have to spare. I can barely think straight. I’m trying to breathe, trying to stay calm, and I can’t. The planes are already overhead, and I feel sick in a way I don’t know how to explain. It’s deeper than my stomach. Bigger than my heart. More overwhelming than just my mind. It’s like fear has become me; it wears my body like an old suit.