The After Girls Read Online Free PDF Page A

party, she’d watched from the driveway as Grace followed Astrid out the door, screaming at her, running down to the car, forbidding her from leaving, not stopping until they were out of the driveway, heading down the street.
    “Why won’t you talk to me about it?”
    Astrid dropped the necklace and it bounced against her chest. She stared at her, almost instantly sober. “Because I won’t,” she said. “And I don’t want you to, either. Promise me you won’t tell Ella.”
    She hesitated, but she knew there was no winning with Astrid. No pushing. Not about that stuff. She was quiet about her family. She always had been.
    “Alright,” Sydney said, brushing a loose strand off of Astrid’s face. “I won’t.”
    Astrid stared at her then, as Sydney carefully placed a hand on her shoulder. Astrid took a breath and for a second her lips parted, almost as if she were ready to speak, as if telling everything might not really be so bad.
    And that was when Brent Avery, the bad-boy dropout Sydney had been gaga for then, walked right up to her, shoved a beer in her hand, and asked her to dance. And she really should have said no, not now, but she didn’t. Because he was right there and he was so cute, and even if she stuck around and pressed it’s not like Astrid was actually going to tell her anything anyway.
    Was she?
    “Are you going to smoke or what?” Max asked, and Sydney realized that she was just standing there, holding the cigarette a few inches from her face.
    She could still see herself walking away, and her stomach ached with guilt or Jack Daniels or both — and so she took a drag, good and long, and in an instant she could feel it, her head, detaching from her body, spinning, swimming, rising above the pain. Forgetting about every last thing that she should have done but didn’t. She tried to exhale slowly like they did in the movies, but instead, she punctuated her breath with coughs — just like Astrid.
    She took another one, and then she handed the cigarette back to Max, and now the air outside was swirling around her, and the awful thoughts in her head were getting fuzzier. Tamer. The stars were big and bright and beautiful.
    She looked at Max and he looked so cool. So detached from everything. She wanted to be where he was. She felt her body sway and leaned on him for support, her hand catching his shoulder, trailing down his arm; her fingers graced the inside of his palm.
    He seemed to get her meaning. And he clasped his hand through hers.
    • • •
    It’s not like they’d never hooked up before. They used to date a long time ago, when they’d just started the band and things made more sense. Love and music. Everything pretty. Things were perfect then.
    Now, somehow, the two of them had made it up to his bedroom. He hadn’t let go of her hand once. He was taking control. She liked that.
    Sydney knew it was probably a bad idea, but when his mouth pressed on hers, she couldn’t resist. Just like before, when he’d decided that he wanted space, she couldn’t do anything but acquiesce. She hadn’t wanted to break up the band. To ruin their friendship. She didn’t want to make Carter have to choose between the two of them. She thought he’d probably have chosen Max anyway. Max was the leader. Max called the shots.
    His lips were warm and familiar. He tasted sweet. His fingers swept her hair away from her face just like they used to. They fell down together, his arms encircling her. She weaved her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, and as she did she tried to forget about everything else but the feel of his body against hers.
    • • •
    When Sydney woke up, it was just after five. Max was snoring loudly next to her on the bed. The blades of the fan whirred above her, and the air felt cold against her skin. She looked around the room. Posters of their favorite bands, their inspirations, stared back at her, while piles of dirty t-shirts and worn boxers littered the floor. She