Page 27 of Break Me
Come over.
Not even a question mark. The fucking audacity of this dude. And yet I can’t help this stupid smile on my face.
I don’t reply, and instead change out of my pink tee and into a light blue shirt made of lace, from Free People, with most of the back missing (on purpose). I comb my hair with my fingers, smudge on some eyeliner in my adjoining bathroom, and apply a shade of light pink lipstick. I slip into brown booties, and then pick up my phone again.
He’s already text. Again.
Do you need me to come get you or…
I want to be mad. But instead, I tell him I’m on the way, and practically run out of the house, shooting Dad a text that I’ll be out. I don’t use Tess as the excuse again, because my parents actually speak to her and I haven’t asked her to cover for me. But I’m 22. I’m allowed to leave when I want.
And I need to get out of this house.
Running away from my problems has always been what I’m best at.
