How To Get Your Heart Broken Read Online Free PDF Page A

always knew you were a racist,” Rachel said
with narrowed eyes.
    A part of me wanted to laugh. She’d obviously
been caught off guard if that was the best she could come up with. I knew that
she was diverting. And I knew she didn’t mean what she’d said, that she’d only
said it because she knew it would affect Ash and distract her. But Ash had
touched on a sensitive subject, and I was too worried about Rachel to be mad at
her.
    “God! I…you know that’s not what I meant! I
was just saying that because I haven’t seen you get in the water!” Ash’s cheeks
turned crimson.
    “Whatever,” Rachel mumbled. She rose up from
her seat and walked out of the living room.
    I bit my lip as I watched her departing
figure. This secret was one thing we
never talked about. I didn’t know how to ask if she was okay.
    The truth was I’d been too engrossed in my own
drama to think about what a whole summer at the beach would mean for Rachel. I
didn’t know what to do with the guilt.
    Ash turned to me for support, “Eli, you know
I’m not.”
    I shook my head, “Relax Ash, she didn’t mean
it. She’s mad about something else.”
    She let out a slow breath, seemingly unsure of
whether or not to believe me.
    “Does she really think I’m racist? Is that why
she doesn’t like me?”
    “She doesn’t not like you. She just doesn’t understand you,” I said. It didn’t
sound very convincing, but I was distracted.
    Ash stood quietly, biting her lip as if she
wanted to chew it off.
    “Enjoy your swim Ash!” I added.
    She sighed, grabbed her beach towel from the
back of the armchair, and then walked out. I got off the couch and ran up the
steps towards Rachel’s room. I didn’t bother knocking; I knew she wouldn’t give
me permission to enter if I asked.
    “I’m fine Elle,” she said before I could open
my mouth.
    I
hesitated; our relationship was built on knowing just how much we could push
each other’s boundaries. We both had our respective lists of taboo subjects and
I knew this one was at the top of Rachel’s.
    I
opened my mouth and closed it again multiple times. Before this summer, Rachel
hadn’t even been to the beach since the
incident. I knew that just being here was a big step for her, even though
she didn’t mention it. I didn’t need to push her any more that she was already
pushing herself, I decided.
    “Good
to know,” I said casually, plopping down on her bed.
    What
I really meant was, ‘I know you’re not
fine and I’m here in case you want to talk about it. I’m even going to hang
around your room just in case.’
    But
she knew that. At least I hoped she did.

 

 
 
 
 
 
    Sometimes the
Understudy Steals the Show

 
 
    One of my favorite things about the beach
house was how it managed to be relatively private. I enjoyed our relative
isolation, despite the evident draw of the water on warm summer days for locals
and tourists. To our left was our newly discovered neighbor, and to the right,
an unoccupied house. It was almost comical how whomever built these three
houses had neglected to pay any attention to spacing, with ours and our idiot
neighbor’s being so close together and the home to the right being more than
twice that distance away from us.
    The few generic vacation homes behind us
were noticeable only because amongst them stood one abandoned house, so
decrepit looking it made me laugh, it reminded me so much of Ash’s grandfather’s
coffee table. Apparently the house had been owned by a man that used to look
after the lighthouse. He’d died there mysteriously, and many people believed
the place was haunted. The couple who had bought it and tried restore it had
been met with “hostile energy.”
    Alas, with so many (except those brave
souls that chose to live next door) too afraid to go near it, there was no one
to restore it or tear it down. It stood there, a small yet menacing cloud of
darkness over otherwise bright, sunny days.
    Maybe that was why there were