Love and Chaos Read Online Free PDF Page A

eye and runs down to my ear. “Angie? Do you want to talk?”
    Something warm and sticky is running down behind my ear, different from the silky tickle of tears. Blood.
    “JESUS CHRIST!” Julia shouts. “The landing is trashed! What the hell is that ?”
    Oh God. The wine. I forgot to clean it up.
    “This won’t come out! It’s dried on the carpet. And the wallpaper is stained. How dare that fucking ice queen treat my home like this!”
    “Calm down, Jules,” says Pia. I hear her open the cabinet under the sink and pull out cleaning products. “Angie, I love you, but you’re going to have to start talking to me. Now .”
    Right. Because she’d totally listen right now. And stick around more than five minutes after I stopped talking. What’s the point of ever sharing problems with anyone? People always just leave, and then they have your secrets, and you can never get them back.
    “Angie. I mean it.”
    I ignore her, my arms still hiding my face. When she leaves, I slowly roll over to my tummy and feel my head to figure out where the blood is coming from. A little graze to the temple, that’s all. The kitchen linoleum is cold against my face. From this weird angle I can see that it’s gritty with dirt, it needs sweeping or Swiffering or mopping or something, and it’s probably my turn. I haven’t even looked at the stupid chore sheet in weeks.
    Three thousand dollars.
    Don’t think about it.
    “She’s a fucking liability, Pia,” I can hear Jules saying upstairs. “She’s unreliable, she’s selfish, she just does whatever the hell she wants to do and everyone else can go fuck themselves. I can’t take living with her much longer.”
    “Would you give it a rest, Jules? She’s been my best friend since we were born.”
    “And she’s always drunk. She’s got a problem, Pia.”
    “She is not always drunk. Sheesh! And you call me a drama queen. She’s just … tough to get to know.”
    “Tough as nails and cold as ice, you mean.”
    I don’t want to be here anymore.
    I stand up, steadying myself against the counter. Woo! Head rush. I grab a kitchen towel, hold it to my bleeding temple, and rush upstairs as quickly as I can—past the first floor landing where Jules and Pia are cleaning the carpet and wallpaper—to my room. I grab my big duffel and swiftly throw in my clutch, bikinis, summer dresses, heels, travel toiletry kit, makeup bag, and passport. At the last minute I add two packs of Marlboro Lights, take one cigarette out and put it in the corner of my lips, and grab my open bottle of wine. Then I change out of my dad’s Princeton sweater and pull on a white cashmere sweater, my fur/army coat, and sunglasses.
    Duffel over my shoulder, I head downstairs, lighting my cigarette as I go.
    “Where are you going?” snaps Julia.
    I exhale my cigarette smoke and take a swig of the wine, my face twitching with the effort of a cold smile. “I’m going to the fucking beach.”

 
    CHAPTER 5
    Good decision.
    Coming to Turks and Caicos was a good decision.
    Right?
    Yes.
    I called Stef the moment I left the house.
    It sounded like he was in a bathroom. “Babe! Hosting a gathering at my place. And my friend Hal is throwing a party tomorrow. He’s dying to meet you!”
    I wanted to ask him who I slept with at the Soho Grand. I wanted to ask him if he knew why someone would give me three thousand dollars for no reason. But I didn’t. I just shut up, drank my wine straight from the bottle, gave the driver a twenty to let me smoke in his cab, and tried not to think about it. Tried very, very hard.
    Stef greeted me with a handful of pills and a bottle of Grey Goose. The next few hours became a blur. A party, a car, an airport, a plane charter, people laughing and shrieking. I just kept my sunglasses on and tried to look in control.
    For a split second, as we boarded the plane, I wanted to turn around and run back to Rookhaven.
    But I said I was going to the beach. And I hate going back on my word.
    I