Page 195 of Built to Fall
Eden and Braxton also filter into the kitchen, and now thinking about it, I haven’t seen Meredith anywhere. She’s been pretty distant since everything about her eating disorder was revealed. I don’t think it’s on purpose, but there is definitely alearning curve that comes with confiding in people after hiding it for so long.
Her relationship with Braxton has shifted entirely, though. The night of the fashion show—after Eden, Kara, and I all talked to her—I heard her yelling at him, then telling him to get out.
Safe to say, I don’t think they’re together anymore—if they were even technically back together in the first place.
Even though I don’t know the whole situation, it still makes me kind of annoyed with her. We figured out quickly that Braxton knew about it all along, dating back to the first time they were dating, before she went to a treatment facility over the summer. Now, they’re on the rocks again.
Yet, he’s still trying to help her. He’s still coming over to the house to check on her and texting her consistently. She’stryingto push him away, but he’s trying not to let it happen.
That’s the thing about Meredith—she’s good at pretending she’s unaffected even when everything inside her is screaming. Until that wall finally comes crashing down and her feelings explode like water over a dam.
I get it more than I’d like to. But it doesn’t make it any less frustrating to watch her push away the people who actually care.
“What the fuck is going on?” Braxton asks, standing next to his twin sister.
“I don’t think we need to harp on it!” Eden quickly interjects. “This is Lina’s birthday party! Let’s keep that the focus for tonight.”
All the tension in Grant’s body begins to loosen at that idea. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer so that our sides are pressed firmly together.
When his lips meet my hair, I lean my head onto his chest. I close my eyes for a second, forgetting about the crowded party on the outskirts of the kitchen, and sinking into the shape of his arms.
The noise of the party becomes static. The only thing ringing through my head is the emotional fallout of addiction and heartbreak and my friends unraveling at the seams.
“We can always go upstairs,” he whispers in my ear as his lips trail from my head, down to my jaw, and then my cheek. “It’s up to you. Braxton could kick everyone out right now.”
I shake my head. “No, I want to stay.”
Savannah claps her hands, flinging her arm around my shoulder from the opposite side from where Grant stands. “Alright! Who’s up for drinks and karaoke?”
The reminder of the party pulls us all out of the turmoil we were stuck in for a moment, reviving the night in a way only Savannah could do.
It’s how we all end up in the living room, dancing in the middle of the large crowd, stealing the karaoke mic back and forth from one another. Delaney and Kenzie even joined us at one point, making our group even bigger.
I’m feel-good tipsy after how quickly I downed my drink in the kitchen. It’s not enough to make me feel inebriated, just to make everything feel softer around the edges.
I don’t even know how long it’s been since we first started singing and dancing, but when enough people have cleared off the dance floor, Grant grabs my waist, pulling me toward the steps leading upstairs.
“Are you drunk?” he asks, leaning in close.
My eyes focus on his tattooed hand as it sweeps my arm up to my jaw. “No. I only had one drink.”
Grant eyes me cautiously. “Thatonedrink was at least a double or triple.”
“I’m good,” I promise. “The perfect amount of barely buzzed.”
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice low as he tugs me closer by the belt loops of my skirt.
I nearly laugh, tilting my head up at him. “Since when does my boyfriendaskto kiss me?”
Does he seriously have suspicions that I’m drunk?
“I’m not talking about your mouth, Eva.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
LINA
Grant’s palm slides up the back of my neck, tangling my hair while I struggle to keep my mouth from dropping to the floor.
