The Book of Broken Hearts Read Online Free PDF

it.
    Neither did I, anymore.
    “Wouldn’t miss it,” I said with a hefty dose of enthusiasm. “When do we leave?”
    “August twentieth,” Zoe said, “give or take.”
    That gave us more than two months to get the bike running.
    “Perfect,” I said.
    Zoe beamed. “Should we hit up Target tomorrow? Stock up on road-trip reinforcements?”
    “I work a double tomorrow,” Christina said. “Friday?”
    “You guys have to stock up without me.” I gave themthe highlights version of the bike project, skipping over the name of our mechanic. Emilio and his brothers had been a topic of more Jude-and-Zoe middle-school gabfests than the Cullens, the Lightwoods, or any of the other mysterious yet fictional bad boys we dreamed about back then, and she’d freak if she knew he’d resurfaced. At my house. For the entire summer.
    “I need to stick close to home,” I said. “Keep an eye on things for my dad.”
    “For the whole summer?” Christina said.
    I popped a few caramels and shrugged. “The guy promised it would be done before our trip.”
    “But it’s our last summer.” Zoe’s freckles dimmed. “What about the play?”
    Upstart Crow was doing Alice in Wonderland this summer, starring Zoe as the Queen of Hearts. Six months ago, she and I had grand plans: She’d be the Queen, I’d be Alice, and we’d spend weeks rehearsing to get it absolutely perfect. A real curtain call on our last summer.
    When I backed out of auditions, I promised I’d still help backstage, rehearsals, costumes, whatever I could do at the theater. Now even that would be impossible.
    “I can’t,” I said.
    “Okay. I get that you have to help out at home,” Zoe said, “but you just graduated. And after this we’ll be at college, and then we’ll have real jobs and a mortgage and all that sucky stuff. This is our last chance for a normal teenage summer.”
    I chewed on my straw. Normal teenage summer? What does that even mean?
    “At least she’s coming to the Dunes,” Christina said.
    “She better.” Zoe bumped my knee with hers, and I swallowed the lump in my throat, waited for it to lodge back in my chest where it had settled after Papi’s diagnosis in January. I’d told Zoe and Christina soon after the TSI, but they didn’t really get how someone as young as Papi could have a disease associated with grandparents, with frail old bodies bent and bleached by time. Even I didn’t get it. Papi still had the wavy black hair and tanned skin of his youth; he was broad shouldered and strong, and every time I looked at him, some part of me still believed that one day he’d decide enough was enough and shake it off.
    Apparently, today was not that day.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Papi beelining for the door. He hadn’t finished his scone, though when I got up close, I noticed he was wearing a good bit of it on his shirt.
    “Papi, you okay?”
    “Eh?”
    “Can we hang out a few more minutes?”
    He watched me a moment, then finally returned to his table by the window.
    “Sorry,” I said when I got back to the girls. They exchanged a nervous glance, and I fumbled for something to rekindle the conversation. “Any more ideas about the trip?”
    Zoe leaned back in her chair. “We’re thinking of renting acar so we don’t have to worry about breaking down.”
    “Good idea. What else?” I slurped up my Java Potion, waiting for her to continue.
    “There’s some cool stuff to see on the way there, like—”
    “Jude?” Christina’s face was tight and pale. “Your dad’s . . . digging in the trash.”
    I followed her eyes across the coffee shop. Sure enough, Papi had both hands in the trash can, elbows deep.
    “I need something.” He glared at me as if it should be obvious. “It’s not here. I think . . . I have to go now.”
    The sun was deceptively cheerful, and as soon as we got outside, he stopped and basked in the light. Behind us, one of the other coffee witches swept a family of tumbleweeds off