BRIELLE PEREZâ.
What might have never bothered her before certainly did now. It wasnât like they did everything together, but even still, it wasnât uncommon for one or the other to dip out early, save face and turn in instead of doing something they simply werenât feeling - but it never happened like this. It never felt like ice crawling up against her spine and hardening. It felt like she couldnât move, like every word Nell spoke to her now nailed Brielle in place a little more. âYeah but..ââ Of course it sucked on new years, but the plan was that theyâd all throw themselves into one later and split the bill in the value of cheeseburgers and shakes later. It was tradition - one that came with some of the best memories that Brielle had of this city without her brothers. Whatever kind of lie Nell thought she could get away with wasnât working as well as she might have hoped. Everything felt off. âNell, I told you that heâd be coming, we talked about this last week and you said you were cool with it?â Confusion muddles dark hues and Brielle casts such uncertainty across the room to where Atticus is and back again before she sighs heavily. âThatâs fine, just give me a couple of minutes and Iâll come with you.â Not that it was at all conductive to what lay ahead for Brielle. Knowing that tonight was about far more than the momentary countdown and everything that sheâd been instructed and intended to pull off the second it ended. Proving herself, to Dilara, Fletcher.. her brother, that she could handle this - that she was one of them and deserved to be noticed by then was what sheâd been working towards for weeks now but.. âWe can just go to your place and veg out and watch horror flicks or something. Itâs just another day, right?â
&.
âAND I WAS COOL with it. I am cool with it.â Only it was clear with every word Janelle spoke that she wasnât and she didnât need to see the look that fell across Brielleâs face to know that she wasnât fooling either of them in the way that she wanted, but words kept spilling in the hopes that maybe she could lie her way through just enough to at least seem convincing. Maybe blame her attitude on whatever fancy shit was being served by the bar in the form of long and carefully worded text in the morning to cover her tracks. Anything to rationalize why she was willing to flee so early on what should have been one of the best nights of their lives instead of actually having to explain it. And to be honest, she didnât even know if she could. Not now at least, not when she can trail Breeâs gaze back to her boyfriend while they were still in the middle of a conversation. Jesus Christ. âBrielleâ stop.â Her words let out like a puff of smoke oozing from her lungs, this feeling in her stomach starting to mimic flips from all this built-up adrenaline. âI donât need you to like, hold my hand and come with me! Fuck, Iâm just tired of all of this.â Tired of this night, of these people and their bougie ways, of Atticus, of New Years. âAnd you doing this isnât helping, even if you think it is.â Nell lifted a hand and waved it off in the direction of the ballroom. âJust go back and . . do whatever it was you were doing before you finally noticed that I was gone.â She was starting to take small steps backward, widening the space between them so that she could get closer to the exit. âOkay? Just go. Youâre probably missed.â














