The Breakup Support Group by Cheyanne Young

Author:Cheyanne Young [Young, Cheyanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: dating, teen, Romance, social issues, young adult, friendship
ISBN: 9781945107795
Publisher: Swoon Romance
Published: 2016-11-22T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Loud sobs pour out of Ms. Meadow’s classroom on Monday at lunch. I can hear the despairing sound of heartbreak even through the closed door. Artwork hangs over Ms. Meadow’s door, blocking the narrow window that looks into her classroom, but even from out here, I know the broken-hearted girl is not a member of the support group. At least not yet.

I stop just outside of the classroom, turning to check my reflection in the tall window next to me. My hair is out of its usual ponytail today. Instead of rushing off to school like usual, I’d chosen to wake up a little earlier and put time into brushing out my hair and then curling the pieces near my face into soft waves. I know it’s stupid, but Emory Underwood all but admitted that I’m at least a little bit special on Friday night. It’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking of since then.

The sobs get a little quieter, and I steel myself for what I’ll find inside, then open the door and join the group. The desks are in a circle like usual, but everyone is standing around the only person sitting in a desk. Emory’s hand pats the shoulder of the crying girl, and he’s the last person I’d expect to be comforting someone after a breakup.

“Hi guys,” I say slowly, carefully approaching the circle.

“Sequoia, this is Isla,” Bastian says, his voice careful and soothing. “She was our newest member until today, and I think she can help you because your situations are similar.”

I lift an eyebrow at Bastian. Trish slides to the left, motioning to the desk next to Sequoia, a small girl with long brown hair that’s braided and pulled in front of her shoulder. I take a seat and offer her a timid smile. “Hi,” I say. “I’m not sure I can help, but I can try.”

Her bloodshot eyes meet mine and then her face crumples, and she starts crying again. Emory curses under his breath. “Bastian, I don’t think she needs a support group right now. She needs to watch me kick Ryan’s ass.”

“No, don’t do that,” Sequoia says, wiping her eyes. “Ryan hates you.”

“Even better that I kick his ass,” Emory says, sliding into the desk on her other side.

“Dude, it’s a little early to be moving in on this girl,” Xavier says. He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the circle, his backpack open and its contents spread all over the floor in front of him. He’s wearing a red baseball cap that swallows his head. “She just got dumped like, ten minutes ago.”

Emory sighs in this annoyed way. “Sequoia is my cousin, dumbass.”

Now the comforting shoulder pat makes sense. I look over at Emory with admiration, an emotion I once thought I’d never be able to have for a guy like him.

The classroom door swings open with a bang against the wall and we all jump, turning to find Ms. Meadows shuffling into the classroom, her arms piled high with pizza boxes.

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