Coffee Fan, the coffee shop where Payton and I usually met, was uncharacteristically empty this morning. I'd bet it was because most of their clientele — people my age — were still asleep after partying all night.

After Brock left, I couldn't sleep. The way he'd told me we were taking a break replayed in my head until my parents' laughter filled the house closer to dawn. I heard them walk to their bedroom, chatting about their evening. They seemed to be the ones who'd graduated, while their daughter ditched a party with her classmates for a boyfriend who had better things to do than stay with her.

"Is something wrong?" Payton brought the coffee mug to her mouth, looking at me over the rim as she sipped her latte.

I studied my best friend. The tips of her glossy, jet-black hair brushed her shoulders, and her eye makeup in pinkish-red tones made her green eyes pop.

"Everything's wrong," I said. "Brock wants a break."

Payton's plump lips parted. She lowered her drink slowly as if I'd change my words by the time her mug made it to the table.

"Are you kidding me? But you wanted to travel somewhere with him this summer."

"He feels 'stressed out.'" I air-quoted. "And last night, he left me on my own because Max invited him over."

Payton flicked her brows up. "And you let him go? Just like that?"

"What was I supposed to do? Tie him to the bed and beg him to stay?"

"Maybe? You're his girlfriend."

I huffed, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my palms. They ached from my lack of sleep, and were bloodshot to boot. "Pay, what part of Brock wanting a break didn't you hear? It's not like arguing with him would've changed his mind."

When I dropped my hands and looked at Payton, her expression was pitying. "So he's, you know," she lowered her voice, "going to sleep with someone else?"

Acid scorched the back of my throat. "He said he wouldn't. Also, I don't know how to tell my mother." Because she'd say I did something to scare him off, and I'd feel even worse.

"Why tell her anything?" Payton picked up her coffee and went on drinking while I couldn't even look at mine.

"Because I still want to travel. I thought you and I could go together. It's been forever since we did something like that."

Two summers ago, Payton and I spent two weeks at one of our family resorts. She kept saying it was the best vacation of her life, and I'd gladly repeat that experience if that helped me take my mind off Brock.

Payton drove out a harsh sigh. One glance at her face was enough to regret my offer.

"I can't," she said. "Jack promised to let me work more shifts."

Payton was a waitress at The Modern Grill, a steakhouse in downtown Wickhampton. She said the tips were decent but still not enough, which is why she occasionally worked at The Fragment — a swanky night club most rich Northcaster University students frequented. Everyone raved about it, but I couldn't get on board with the fake atmosphere.

"You won't spend a cent," I said, trying to stop disappointment from sneaking into my voice. "We'd stay at one of our resorts, go to the beach... Please?"

She finished her coffee and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "Wish I could, but some of us need to save."

The few sips of cappuccino I managed to swallow sloshed in my empty stomach, and I breathed in and out. Some needed to save while I had everything handed to me, and yet, it didn't make me happier.

"Damn, boo, I didn't mean it like that." Payton grabbed my wrist and smoothed her manicured thumb over the pink and white beaded bracelet I made. "This one's new."

"I wore the heart earrings to graduation yesterday, but my mother said I should've chosen something classier."

The corners of Payton's mouth lifted slightly. "Being able to choose is nice, though."

She couldn't be aware of the effect her words had on me. Upsetting me surely wasn't her intention, but the jab hurt.

"So, you're sure you can't go with me?" I said, pushing my half-full coffee cup aside.

Payton patted my hand. "I'm sorry. Have fun and sunbathe for both of us. I'll live vicariously through you while wiping tables."

***

I returned home close to lunchtime after wandering around the stores, hunting for beads and mounting accessories for my jewelry to distract myself from annoying thoughts of Brock cheating on me. Sadly, it didn't work.

"Lyra?" Mom's voice rose in the living room, and I headed toward it, clutching the bag with my purchases.

She and Dad were sitting on the couch. Dad was leafing through a pile of papers while Mom watched a movie on our ginormous flat screen.

"Hi," I said, sitting on the opposite end of the beige leather sectional. If only putting distance between my parents and me meant there'd be no blowout once I told them about my plans.

Mom glanced at the bag I'd put on the floor. "Did you go shopping with Payton?"

"Payton and I met for coffee. She had to work after."

"And Brock?"

I pulled the hem of my sundress down and stared at the tiny daisies on the print. The opposite of classy. Mom was all for neutrals. Even now at home, she wore a tailored beige suit that made her look even thinner. "Um...he..."

"Um," she echoed. "Use your words, Lyra."

Dad looked up from the documents he'd been perusing. "Amelia. Maybe you should let her speak?"

"Brock said he's going to travel with his friends for the summer so he, um, wants a break."

Mom picked up the remote and turned off the TV. "What do you mean, a break?"

"You should ask him, not me."

"That's new." Dad set the papers aside, frowning. "Roger thought he'd start working on Monday."

Mom waved dismissively. "The boy needs a vacation, Francis. The hotels won't go anywhere. Roger's too hard on his son."

Look who was talking. A snort started to climb up my throat and froze midway when Mom narrowed her hazel eyes at me. "Did you two fight last night?"

I felt like Alice, except this was no Wonderland — just Lyra's absurd reality in which her boyfriend needing a break meant she wasn't good enough.

"We didn't fight. He's stressed out and prefers to spend the summer with his friends, end of story. And I want to travel too."

That was it. I stilled, fisting the skirt of my dress, bracing myself for the impact.

Mom lifted a microbladed brow. "With Payton?"

"Alone," I said. "She needs to work."

"And your other friends?"

Mila and Hazel made plans I never agreed to join because mine revolved around Brock and his schedule. They'd already bought flights and booked hotels, so nothing could be done even if I told them I'd changed my mind.

"The girls are busy. I'll just go to one of our resorts. It's no big deal. I need a break too."

"What you need is to think about your future. How will it look to Brock if you go somewhere alone?"

Anger simmered inside me, but instead of stomping my feet or storming out of the room, I sagged against the beige cushions, my eyes watering. It was all about Brock again. What about me?

"That's nonsense, Amelia." Dad scoffed. "He wants a break, so Lyra should have hers. They're young, and she graduated with honors."

I don't know..." Mom twirled a lock of her blond hair around her index finger. "I think this whole break situation could be avoided. Brock is serious about her."

Dad slid his reading glasses off his nose and tucked them in the front pocket of his white button-down. "Then let him prove it. You were never desperate to get my attention when we dated, so what's going on here?"

She clicked her tongue. "That was different. Brock comes from a respectable family, and I want her to have a future. "

"Enough." Dad braced his hands on his knees and rose to his feet. "Let them live their lives. Choose a resort, Lyra. I'll tell them to expect you."

I released a tight breath. Crisis averted. And knowing I'd spend time on my own, getting ready for my adult life, felt amazing.

Almost like freedom, whatever that was.

***

If Mom looked into my suitcase, she'd have a mild-to-moderate heart attack. It was full of cropped tops, denim shorts she'd call scandalous, and dresses whose bright floral prints would make the ladies from her golf club turn up their noses.

But it was my vacation and time to wear what I wanted. I had nobody to impress, and most of the things Mom would approve of were too uncomfortable to wear on the beach.

I zipped up my travel bag stuffed with jewelry-making supplies. A knock on the door caught me off guard, and I combed my fingers through my hair on autopilot. "Come in."

The door opened. Brock stepped inside and stood, surveying my luggage. Did he have second thoughts and decided to apologize? It'd change nothing, but at least I'd know he cared.

"So, you decided to travel."

Of course, he didn't regret a thing. I grabbed a toiletry bag and marched to the en suite. "Hello to you, too."

Brock trailed after me uninvited. The pungent scent of his cologne filled the air, and despite its familiarity, I fought the urge to open the window to let fresh air in.

Ignoring him, I tossed a bottle of cleanser and makeup remover into the pink bag and snatched the cream jars from the shelf in the cabinet.

He groaned. "Why'd you tell your parents I want a break? I thought I made it clear it was between us. Were you trying to get my trip canceled?"

"They'd ask why I was traveling alone. And you didn't tell me I had to lie." I looked at him in the mirror over my shoulder. "How was the party?"

Brock trailed his fingertips over my bare arm. "The party?"

"Max's place?" I sidestepped, getting out of his reach.

"Ah, that one." He yawned, looking away. "Nothing interesting. I went home early."

But still, the uninteresting gathering was better than being with me. Typical.

As if sensing my annoyance, Brock hugged me from behind. "Lyra," he whined. "Don't be so dramatic, babe. It's just a little break."

Dramatic? I left the toiletries on the vanity and removed Brock's hands from my waist. "I need to finish packing. I'm driving to the resort early."

"A resort is good." Brock chuckled. "Someone will keep an eye on you."

I laughed, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. Who would keep an eye on him?

And why would anyone need to keep an eye on the one who didn't want breaks at all?

Oh, Brock.

Little do you know.

How are you liking the story, guys? The plot thickens. Lyra is going to travel alone. The tiny seed of rebellion has been planted.

Fun fact. My own solo vacation years back resulted in me meeting my husband and all my talks about not wanting a guy flew out the window.

He thinks I should write our story, I told him no way. 😆

Tell me your thoughts about the characters. Do we like or hate any?

Love,
A.