How He Broke My Heart

Chapter 22

Opening the window in Brandon's room, I climb out and carefully make my way down the shingles as I used to when I was insane. I get on my knees at the edge, turn around, inch off until my lower half is dangling then drop down onto the front lawn. Hitting the ground and falling onto my butt—I swear that the ground has gotten harder since last year. Getting up, I walk off down the street like a person who has escaped a psychiatric hospital. Was sneaking out through the window necessary? I just couldn't face the awkward goodbyes that would occur if I let through the front door like a normal person.

I can't stay at Jonas' house because of Brandon, I can't go home because of my mother, so the only other place I have left to run to is Lauren's. She screwed me over royally, but who am I to act like a victim? We work so well as friends because we're both slowly losing our minds.

Her house is a few minutes walk from Jonas', and seeing the fancy beach house again brings back horrid memories. I wander up the path in Jonas' grey sweatpants and shirt, completely lost, maybe the most lost I've ever been. It's not night, she should be here. If it were night she'd be out until morning, never answering the phone, hardly able to speak full sentences. I knock on the door with hardly enough spirit to do it again.

As I'm drifting off, the door opens and she appears like some bender angel. "Emma? Hey, y-you didn't answer my texts. Are you okay? You look—"

"Can I stay here for a little? Everything's kinda falling apart."

She welcomes me in and closes the door behind me. My eyes take in the sleek wood floors and creamy walls and expensive leather furniture like I once did three years ago. Back then her parents would be lounging around. "Are you alone?"

"You know I don't know where the hell my parents are. If I had to guess, probably in Boston. They like the vacation house over there. They like going to the cape."

I spin around and stare at her apologetic face. "Let's just be cool, okay?"

"Really? You aren't mad about...Milo?"

I shake my head, also shaking off the anger that flooded my head whenever I merely thought of her. "Who cares," I murmur. "Let's party tonight, like we used to, okay?"

"What? I thought you were over all that? What about Brandon?"

I shrug, crashing down on the white couch held up by pins. Each time I wonder how it doesn't break, how those thin poles don't snap. Everything in here looks like it defies physics.

"Did you guys break up?"

"Were we ever together?"

Lauren stands before me as I gaze mindlessly at the ceiling. "Are you drunk?"

"I was. Brandon killed my buzz. Do you have anything to drink? Who am I kidding, of course you do," I mutter getting up and nearing the notorious alcohol cabinet that sits with us in the living room. Set on top of it is crystal glasses and a crystal bottle with what I'm assuming is scotch or bourbon swimming in it. I pop off the crystal cork and pour myself a bit, drink, then pour myself some more. Scotch. "You've been working at this, haven't you?" I hold up the bottle and swirl around the eighth that's left.

"Emma, you changed. You don't do this shit anymore. You're going to regret it."

"Come on, drop the mom act, have a drink, invite some people over—Jonas, okay; Brandon, no. Invite Austin over, get in his pants, have fun. Come on, just like we used to. Remember last year," I float over to her, "remember those crazy nights that never ended. Remember running out into the ocean and feeling like we'd never come back. Nothing matters, Lauren. Life is pointless, so let's get fucked up, let dance and screw around and forget where we even are."