Read Breaking Through (The Breaking Series Book 3) for Free Online Page A

corner of the coffee shop. I did my best to ignore the noise around me and concentrate on the last details of my project. It was better than staying cooped up inside my dorm room, especially when Mariah, my roommate, was there. She was too chatty, too loud, too spread out, and it was hard for me to be comfortable around her. At least, we got along well enough to live together without any major drama.
    This was my second semester in fashion design at the College of Art and Design in Los Angeles, and I loved it. The classes, I mean. I couldn’t care less about living in L.A., or the other students, parties, frat houses, and whatnot. Thankfully, my professors seemed to like me. One even told me that, if I continued to impress her, I had a chance of getting a spot in their annual exhibition, where students showcased collections they created. Not all students participated, and this year was too late for me, seeing as the exhibition was next weekend. Even so, it was rare for second semester students to be invited to the showcase. So, I worked hard on my projects due at the end of the semester in a couple weeks, aiming to woo my professors. If I roped them in now, there was no doubt I would be in the showcase next year.
    “Oh, I like this dress. It’s pretty,” Mariah said, taking the seat across the table. She set down her books and coffee and squinted at my pad. “Hm, if you put a slit here.” She pointed to the left side of the long skirt. “It would be even prettier.”
    I rolled my eyes. Of course, she would suggest a slit. Next would be to increase the cleavage, and maybe some holes over the stomach. Wait, no, cut the midriff and make it a top and low-waist skirt. There, just her style.
    “I thought you had class,” I said, not bothering to look up.
    “The professor gave us one last assignment before the finals and let us go to work on it. Can’t believe it’s only a few more days until finals.” She opened one of her books, spreading her things over the small table as if my A3-sized pad wasn’t taking a whole lot of space already. “Better start.”
    For a few moments, it was okay. Mariah started reading and I kept on working on my drawings. At some point, she got up, ordered a coffee and a pastry, and then returned to her studies.
    A few minutes later, I noticed she had stopped reading and was looking at the coffee shop customers.
    “You really don’t see it, do you?” she finally said.
    I looked up from my drawing pad. “See what?”
    She groaned, as if mad at me. “The guys! All of them look at you. All of them.”
    “No, they don’t.” I started drawing again, but my focus was gone.
    “I swear, they do. I’m telling you, if you went to some parties with me, you would have every man flocking around you.”
    “I’m not interested,” I said, making the mistake of looking at her again. She squinted at me. “What?”
    “Sorry, but I have to ask. Are you gay?”
    If I had been drinking my coffee, I would have sputtered. “No, I’m not. Nothing against gays, I don’t judge. But, no, I’m straight.”
    “Then what? Why won’t you go out with at least one of the many gorgeous men around campus?”
    I pressed my lips tight. What could I tell her? Not the truth, but I had to give her something so she would stop bugging me.
    “I was burned before,” I started, hoping it was vague enough, but not too vague to allow for more questions. “It hurt too much, and I don’t feel like I’m ready to put myself out there. Not yet.”
    There. The truth.
    She stared at me, probably trying to see something in me, in my eyes, in my body language. Did she think I was lying to her? Who cared if she did? I didn’t owe her any explanation.
    Finally, Mariah shrugged and returned her attention to the people in the coffee shop.
    “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said after a couple of minutes in blissful silence. She reached inside her purse. “I stopped by our building before coming here and checked our mailbox.”