Page 53 of Break Point
God … no. I can’t process this statement. Not now.
“You don’t deserve to be miserable, Henry.”
I turn around and walk out the door. Every step that I take feels heavier the closer I get to the car. A soft, steady drizzle is falling. I can barely feel it, but I see it clearly against the car’s headlights. It’s a chilly night, and my damp hair is not helping to regulate my body temperature.
“And what makes you think that you do?” Henry shouts back, standing under the threshold.
Vladimir is holding the door for me. This is my last chance to stay. And Henry’s like a blazing sun with a massive gravitational pull, and I’m an insignificant debris floating in space that doesn’t stand a chance against such force. But somehow, I harness the energy needed to slingshot away from him.
“Because it’s easy!” I toss my bag inside the car. “And I’m used to it!”
Vladimir shuts the door, and I fall apart. I’m full-on sobbing my heart out. And Vladimir, bless him, pretends to be deaf.
My mind inevitably shifts to my mom. She always looks content, and I know where the source of that happiness is coming from.
Maybe tonight I’ll see what that feels like, too.
1 Roberto, please put away your phone.
2 Literally: coming. A way of saying give me a second.
3 Turn it down a few notches.
CHAPTER 14
HARMLESS
Gemma’salready waiting when we pull into the long driveway of her family’s colonial-style house. I take a deep breath because looking at her makes me feel emotional, and I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to feel anything right now.
Vladimir parks the car, and I don’t wait for him to open the door for me. Instead, I grab my bag and rush toward Gemma.
“Hey, you,” she says softly in her baby voice, hugging me. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just one of those days, but I don’t feel like talking about it right now,” I tell her. “Could we just … hang out?”
“Sure, come in.”
Gemma grabs my shoulder as I wave stiffly at Vladimir from a distance, thanking him for the ride, feeling low-key embarrassed, and follow Gemma inside, shutting the door behind me.
“Are your parents home?” I ask as she scurries away. She’s tiny but fast.
“No. They’re at a charity gala in D.C. They’ll be back on Sunday.”
Perfect. I might spend the night here, even if my dad hates it. Some critical distance from my family feels like exactly what I need right now.
We step inside Gemma’s bedroom, and she shuts the door with a thump. She gestures for me to follow her inside her massive walk-in closet, shoots a wicked little smile at me, and says, “Okay, let’s get you dressed up for this party.”
Henry was right about Gemma’s ways. But if the world’s already on fire, I might as well enjoy the blaze. Maybe a little noise and lip gloss is exactly what I need to clear my head.
We step out of the car, and Vladimir doesn’t look pleased with the scene before us. Josh and Paxton’s house is packed. People are smoking and drinking in the front yard, and from what we can see from a distance, the inside doesn’t look much different.
“Your father wants you back in the house by twelve-thirty, Miss Cho,” Vladimir says in his cold, Russian accent.
“Oh, come on, Vlad. It’s Friday,” Gemma says, waving a dismissive hand at him. “Besides, Belén never goes out. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that I’m not going to pass up. You’re not going to rat me out, right?” She pats Vlad’s elbow twice before pulling me toward the house as I adjust my black leather skirt.
“This skirt’s too short,” I say, looking down at my legs.
I loved the outfit she picked out for me, but I’m taller than Gemma, so I have my doubts about the length of the skirt I’m wearing. She paired it with a simple white T-shirt made of the softest cotton I’ve ever felt. I wanted to keep it simple. I’m not used to wearing flashy clothes like Gemma does. But she insisted on adding a few layered gold necklaces which I didn’t mind. They look elegant and give the outfit a dressier touch, perfect for the occasion.
