The Museum of Heartbreak by Meg Leder Read Free Book Online Page A

breezy and okay, like their bailing on tradition was not a big deal. For some reason deep inside me, that was important—that no one know how my insides were sinking faster by the second, how I felt completely alone.
    â€œSo you’re out too, I’m guessing?” I asked Eph, my mouth twisting into this phony super-gracious smile.
    He gave me a weird look. “What’s wrong with your face? And why are you getting all splotchy again?”
    â€œAre. You. Going.”
    â€œSorry.Autumn got us tickets to this interactive Macbeth thing in a warehouse.”
    â€œThat sounds awesome,” I lied.
    â€œTrust me, I’d much rather hang out with you. Autumn’s in a constant hand-holding phase. It makes my hands sweat.”
    He held up his palms, as if to prove his point.
    â€œOkay, okay.” I chewed on my lip, brainstorming. I could fix this. “Maybe we can hang out next Saturday instead. I know, let’s go to Coney Island! It’ll be like the Fall Festival but a little tackier. And with the ocean.”
    There. Totally natural, breezy. Nice recovery, self.
    Audrey’s face fell. “Next Saturday? I promised Cherisse I’d go to that new guy Keats’s First of October party with her.”
    Oh.
    Keats was having a party.
    â€œFirst of October party?” Eph snorted.
    â€œI would bring you guys, but it’s invitation only . . .”
    (Of course it was.)
    â€œ. . . and Cherisse has been crushing on Keats forever . . .”
    (Of course she has.)
    â€œ. . . and it’s this fancy costume party . . .”
    (Ugh, so cool. Of course, of course, of course the beautiful new boy would have a fancy costume party.)
    At that moment I was seconds away from having a crumbly meltdown about hickeys and festivals and French Club and social circles and the fact that my life was an open book but Audrey’s and Eph’s lives had chapters I wasn’t cool enough to read.
    My melodramatic subconscious started playing “One Is the Loneliest Number” in my head.
    My subconscious is the worst.
    â€œI’ll go to Coney Island with you, Pen,” Eph offered. “I heard last week that people got stuck on the Cyclone and had to walk down the hill. How rad would that be?”
    â€œSo rad,” I said hollowly.
    Without all three of us there, it wouldn’t be the same thing. It already wasn’t the same thing.
    Plus Keats was having a party.
    Forget Coney Island.
    I was pretty sure that everything I ever wanted, that everything I was currently missing out on, would be at that party.
    A small and terribly traitorous sigh escaped my lips.
    At the sound of it, the three of us halted all interaction. Eph frowned and turned back to his notebook, and Audrey tugged so hard on her hair I thought she might pull it all out. Meanwhile, my face was frozen in some uncomfortable, phony lunatic smile.
    This was not how our afternoon at Chipotle was supposed to be going.
    Be the better person, Pen. You love these people.
    â€œDo you know what you’re wearing?” I asked Audrey, forcing my voice to be positive, willing us all to change the conversation.
    â€œTo Keats’s party?” she asked, face confused.
    â€œNo, to homecoming!”
    Her face broke out in a relieved smile, and she whipped out her phone and flipped through pictures before pointing one out. “Here.Cherisse and I found it at this new vintage shop downtown called Hong Kong Eight.”
    The dress was beautiful—a pale, silvery-pink beaded sheath. “Very Audrey Hepburn. Living up to your namesake, yeah? That’ll be gorgeous on you.”
    â€œSweet,” Eph muttered after giving the phone a perfunctory glance.
    Audrey relaxed, explaining how she was going to do her hair (a professional blow-out so it was straight and shiny) and what shoes she was going to wear (silver Mary Jane wedges) and the boutonniere she was buying her