Page 121 of Breaking the Rules
She shakes her head. "I'm not going to be that girl."
"Which girl?"
"The one who can't handle shit."
The light flashes green. I turn left. Keep most of my attention on the road. "What shit is that?"
"You know what I mean."
I shake my head. I don't, but I sure as hell don't like any of my ideas about it.
"You go to parties."
"I did."
"Why'd you stop?" Her voice is vulnerable, not accusatory.
But I still don't know how to answer. "It stopped being fun."
Her brow furrows with confusion. "Do you not want a birthday party?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"No." Her lips curl into a smile.
It's only a second, but I still feel it everywhere.
"It's on your actual birthday. After the shop closes. I need people to invite."
"Em, I appreciate that—"
"But?"
"I know you're trying to distract me," I say.
"Why do you care? I didn't fuck anyone. I didn't get arrested. I'm not physically hurt. You can report back to Brendon. Tell him everything is fine."
"It's not about your brother."
She turns to the window. "Whatever."
"We are friends."
She says nothing.
"I care about you."
Still nothing.
"If you're not ready to talk, that's fine. But I need to know you're okay."
She stays silent.
I turn my attention to the road.
Emma turns up the stereo.
A peppy melody fills the car. It should make the silence easier, but it doesn't. It underlines it.
