Breaking Nova by Jessica Sorensen Read Free Book Online

Dylan’s and Delilah’s lips are still attached, and their hands roam all over each other as they wander through the curtain, leaving me in the room with Tristan and his darts.
    He watches me for a moment, and then grabs a red plastic cup from the coffee table. “So what have you been up to?” he asks, setting the cup down after he takes a swallow. He turns back to the dartboard, aiming the tip of one while shutting an eye.
    “School.” I wind around a sofa, reducing the distance between us. There’s music playing from an old stereo in the corner, “Emily” by From First to Last. “Other than that, not a whole lot.” I step up beside him and stare at the dartboard as he throws the dart, hitting it just outside of the center. “You?”
    He shrugs and extends his hand for the cup again. “Work, life, honestly nothing that great.” He puts the rim of the cup up to his lips and tips his head back, chugging a mouth full before crushing the cup and tossing it into an overflowing trash can in the corner near a lamp without a lampshade. “You need a drink or something?”
    I debate my options. The buzz from the few sips I took from the flask has simmered down, so either I can stand here and count all night until Delilah finishes up with Dylan or I can take Tristan up on his offer and try to find some kind of silence in alcohol. “What do you have?” I ask.
    He smiles and motions at me to follow him as he hops over the back of the couch and proceeds for the kitchen. I choose to walk around the sofa, constructing my own path, noting it takes me twelve controlled, steady steps to follow him to the fridge. He opens the door, pokes his head inside, and starts rummaging around through the various brands of beer. He ends up selecting a Corona, and I can’t help but briefly smile because after eight months he still remembers my drink. He kicks the fridge door shut with his foot, walks over to the counter, and places the top of the bottle on the edge of the countertop, knocking the cap off.
    The golden liquid bubbles as he hands me the opened bottle. “Here ya go.”
    I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and move the mouth of the bottle up to my mouth. “Thanks.”
    He squeezes between me and the counter and moves back to the living room, rolling up the sleeves of his long-sleeved black shirt. “No problem,” he says. “You look a little tense anyway. Maybe that’ll relax you.”
    Nothing will relax me.
Ever.
Nothing will drown out the memories of that day—no matter how much I fight it—everything I missed.
Why did you do it, Landon? Why?
As soon as my mind recollects the faint flicker of his sad laughter, the feeling of that goddamn night start to chip away at the wall I put around it. I blink and blink again as tears start to sting my eyes.
Shut the hell up. Shut the hell up. Now is not the time. Wait until you’re at home, alone.
But they pool in the corners of my eyes, hot liquid about to burn down my cheeks and stain my skin. Panicking, I start to count the lines of the panels that make up the wall. I reach fifteen, and then I tilt my head back, and gulp down half the Corona before I can breathe again.
    “You good?” Tristan asks, watching me devour the beer as he holds an assortment of darts in his hand.
    I lick the remaining beer off my lips and stride over to the dartboard. “Yeah, I’m great, but can I play? I need a distraction.”
    A smile curves at his lips as I start to remove the red darts from the board. “Absolutely, but how about we make it fun and play for something?” His gaze skims up my bare legs, to the hem of my dress, and then up to my eyes. I think he’s going to propose something sexual, by the fiery look in his eyes, but all he says is, “Winner owes the loser twenty bucks?”
    I suck back the remaining tears still wanting to spill and stick out my hand. “You have a deal.”
    We shake on it and he gives my hand a squeeze before pulling away. “Ladies