Walking Heartbreak Read Online Free PDF Page A

darker by the second. My watch says ten thirty, not at all late. How long is this “party” going to last? Intuitively, I know Bo won’t break. He seems too controlled to storm off—or snap at the girl pressing herself against him right now.
    I’m quietly outraged. Shouldn’t someone step in? At least get them to quit touching him when he so clearly doesn’t want it? I flick a glance at Troll, who’s entertaining a few fans or friends. They’re older, maybe from the music business, nothing like the three teenaged girls corralling Bo like he’s a puppy in a pet store.
    I check out Emil’s situation again. Yes, the girls are there too, but Emil’s personality seems to feed off the situation. In addition, Zoe acts as an unintentional buffer.
    From my seat on top of a table, I slide off and step toward Bo. His peripheral vision finds me, his gaze descending on me before returning to the girl who we now know almost fainted watching him greet the audience at the last concert.
    I’m not sure what my plan is. Oh right, Zoe’s behind him with Emil; I’ll go tell her I’m leaving. I’ll just cab it home alone.
    “All good?” I ask as I pass Bo.
    He turns to me, breaking the circle he’s trapped in. “Yeah. You want a beer?”
    And against myself, I say, “Yes.”

NADIA
    Zoe joins me when I leave. It surprises me because it’s not even midnight. The tour manager has just ushered the last fan out of the venue, and the band is being politely chucked out by staff. Apparently, they’ve overstayed their welcome, and judging by the grumbled curses from Troll, it’s a band habit.
    “Guess what? Emil and Bo live in town,” Zoe says, flaking black polish off a nail. Within a day and a half, it’ll all be gone. Sometimes I wonder why she paints them at all. I point at her left front tooth, which now looks like it’s got cartoon-style cavities. She rubs with a fingertip, but ends up whipping a mirror out of her purse and gets rid of it that way. “And they’re off tour for a week. We’re meeting them tomorrow.”
    She sniffs and stares out the cab window like it’s her job to rule my schedule.
    “You—? Nuh-uh. Don’t include me in these things, Zoe.”
    “What? Like you have anything better to do. How long has your life been on standstill, Nadia? Is it going to get any better unless you— you —take action?”
    “Zoe!”
    We have the same damn cab driver. What are the odds? He’s turning up the music again, and this time it’s reggae.
    I don’t want to have this conversation. I do not .
    “You never look at anyone the way you looked at Bo tonight, Nadia. Admit it: you’re fascinated. You didn’t take your eyes off him through the entire after-party.”
    “Really? You’ve never seen me look at someone like that? Try Jude,” I yell. “My. Husband.”
    “Exactly—not since your husband was good for you!”
    I breathe hard. This is a lot even from Zoe. The damn reggae roars from the speakers in the front. It distorts, adding to the showdown Zoe wants to keep me in.
    “Just leave it alone,” I sigh.
    “No. Because I love you. We’re best friends, Nadia—we’ve been through a shit-ton together, and you’re stuck with my crazy ass for life, all right?”
    I cover my mouth to stop my chin from quivering. “Just don’t push me.”
    Her arms go around me and pull me close. She cradles my head against her like I’m little. Today had been good, but here I go, unable to stop the tears from leaking out again. Every day. Every, every day.
    “You had fun. I saw it. Will you lower the damn music!” she shouts at the driver. He turns it down infinitesimally. “More! Asshole.” She mutters the last part, knowing he’d probably toss us out right here, in downtown L.A., if he heard.
    “Girl, I’m not sure what made you glow tonight, but something did, and I think it had to do with Bo. I don’t care if it was something he said, or if you’re being shallow and getting off on how eerily beautiful he