Page 162 of Rules

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Imposing and overwhelming, it resounds in my ears, making it hard to think.

Closing my eyes, I try to gain back control. Concentrate on one thing at a time. But when my world clouds in darkness, the only thing I can feel is heat.

Was it this hot a minute ago?

Tugging at the collar of my shirt I try to make myself breathe.

In and out. Nice. Steady. In and out.

It’ll all work out, but first you have to calm the fuck down. Breathe, Brook. Justbreathe.

But no matter how many times I try to tell myself it’ll all be okay, it changes nothing because I know the truth. Nothing will ever be okay.Ever.

Tears burn in my eyes. Seems like these days it’s the only thing I can do—cry. Tears of desperation, anger, loneliness. Brokenhearted tears. For myself. For Max. But most of all, for this baby who hasn’t done anything to deserve the life it was given.

Done fighting it, I open my eyes, once again looking at the building in front of me. One by one, tears start falling down my cheeks, a trembling sob ripping out of my lungs.

My hand slides down, settling on my still-flat stomach.

This isn’t okay. It’s not fair.

But life is never fair. And I should have known that better than anybody. It was silly to believe it could have been different. Silly to hope I could find my happiness. Just like always, life gave me a taste of it, only to take it all away and crush everything else in the process.

Not bothering to wipe my tears or hide my pain, I walk toward the entrance. If nothing else, I’ll do this right, even if it breaks me in the process.

I wish things could be different.

But the hard truth is, they’re not.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

MAX

Dear Mr. Sanders,

We’re pleased to inform you that you have been accepted…

I blink, and then blink some more, thinking if I blink enough times the letters staring back at me will somehow change, but no matter how many times I do it, they stay the same.

Letting the letter fall to the kitchen counter, I rub my hand over my face, fingers digging into my scalp.

“What are you doing?”

Slowly, I turn around, finding Jeanette leaning against the doorway, that little beast of hers tucked in her arms.

Not saying a word, I tip my chin in the direction of the letter I left discarded. Giving me a curious look, she comes inside, taking the paper in her hand. I can see her eyes move over the page with a speed I can only imagine. Five seconds later, she shrieks loudly and throws herself—and the dog—at me so hard, I have to wrap both of my hands around her to prevent all three of us from falling.

“Oh my God, Max! This is amazing! Boston University.” She pulls away just enough so she can look at me, her gray eyes glossy from tears. “I knew you could do it! I just knew it.”

“Hey, don’t cry…”

“I’m not crying,” she protests, even though the tears are now rolling down her cheeks. Laughing uncomfortably, she moves out of my reach, brushing her tears with her free hand. “It just… It just hit me. We won’t be together next year.”

I nod my head in understanding. Just a few weeks ago, she got another one of her acceptance letters, and she finally decided on Carnegie Mellon School of Music, where she’ll be able to continue doing what she loves and at the same time be close to Andrew, who was admitted to Penn State. And with me going to Boston, this will be the first time in eighteen years that we’ll be apart.

Putting my hands on her shoulders, I give her a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll always be one phone call away.”

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