Breaking South (Turner Artist Rocker #3) - Alyson Santos Page 0,51

injured, hockey phenom Oliver Levesque was spotted ditching his team in favor of popstar Genevieve Fox at The Six Stone Lounge Thursday night. Interesting how a torn knee keeps him off the ice, but not off the dancefloor. Hard to blame him. We’d fake an injury for the chance to cuddle up with Genevieve Fox as well. Watch out, Gen. You might be the next to be played by this professional player.”

“Fake an injury?” I cry, slamming my fist on the island. “Does no one fact check anything anymore? And we weren’t dancing! We were just hugging each other.”

Hadley nods, her eyes narrowing in anger. “It’s total bull-crap. Another one said he dumped Regina for you, even though she’s pregnant with his baby, but most are along the lines of how irresponsible he is to be out partying when he’s supposedly injured and his team is struggling. Some are saying he must be faking the extent of the injury.”

Faking? Gosh, he’d do anything to be back on the ice.

“Oh please. He was sitting at a table drinking seltzer water the whole time. Besides, that’s not even how sports injuries work. And he was literally there with his teammates. They’re the ones who talked him into going.” I’d laugh if my stomach wasn’t so sick. The problem is, even the major news outlets have picked up the story of us together. There will be no hiding from this one. “Regina Jeffries? Do we even know who that is?”

Hadley shrugs. “Some heiress, I guess. Never heard of her before this.”

“I need to talk to Oliver.” I grab my phone from the island.

“Uh-oh. Your parents aren’t listening, Gen. They’re still coming. You want me to call security? Just make sure you’re ready for that bombshell if you officially block them.”

I release a long sigh and shake my head. “No. I’m going to have to face them eventually. Might as well be now.” I’m more concerned about Oliver anyway. Pulling up his number, I tap my fingers on the counter impatiently when the call goes straight to voicemail. Crap. I leave a message, and then send a corresponding text to call me as soon as possible.

Shoving my phone down in disgust, I rest my elbows on the counter and bury my head in my hands. This is my fault. I warned him about the ugly, knowing full-well he wouldn’t run. I knew he’d take the pain. I’ve watched him battle through it since the first time I saw him, and I hoped he would handle mine. He’s a warrior, and I’m his cancer. A curse. I’m a caricature of a life I can’t live, a persona I can’t satisfy. The world wants the girl teetering on the edge of the summit, the girl who’s so far up she can only look down. Forget happiness and fulfillment. My identity has been formed by fear. Every choice, every move, every waking moment an exhausting effort to secure my footing on the slippery edge of a cloud, staring south at the distant ground. My entire existence is devoted to not falling.

Except, then came Oliver and the girl in the mirror he dragged to the light. Is she afraid of the fall? She’s a spark who thrives in the shadows. She can go into a studio with Joel and make art until four in the morning. She has drive and determination and purpose. Maybe, just maybe, she’s a glimpse of what I’ve been taught my whole life to fear.

“We’re going to figure this out, Gen,” Hadley says firmly. “We’ve got the best people already working on it, and if necessary, we can involve the label. Plus—”

She stops when I lift my head and meet her gaze directly. “I know,” I say in a steady tone. She searches my face in surprise, her expression changing from anxious to curious.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.” She tilts her head, studying me. “You’re just… Taking this better than I thought? A couple weeks ago you seemed ready to break. I was so worried about you. Something like this could have crushed you. And now? I don’t know. You’ve been different lately.”

Different. There’s been no scarier word than different throughout the course of my life. Different is the enemy. Different is the first step over the cliff into death.

“And, Gen? Trust me. This time different is good.”

“I knew he was trouble from the moment I saw him!” my mother snaps, pounding the island. “As if it wasn’t bad enough he’s been planting all these crazy