Free Hold Me Like a Breath by Tiffany Schmidt Page A

who chose to donate the bodies of their deceased.
    â€œMother,” I said, trying another tactic, “don’t you think Nolan deserves a break from me? Carter says Father has him working on some ‘big, important projects.’” I added air quotes, but if it had been Nolan I’d been quoting, it would’ve sounded more like “prestigious, imperative endeavors.”
    â€œHe was just saying the other day how much he misses you. I’m sure he could find time to come up with a summer curriculum if I asked.” She paired her threat with a twinkle-eyed smile. I couldn’t tell if this meant she was joking or serious.
    I needed Carter
now
. Needed his help strategizing my argument for school so I never had to endure another of Nolan’s lessons.
    And maybe if I went to school, if I had more in my life than what fit between the gates of our property, then I wouldn’t have fallen for his best friend. I’d have options. I’d have friends of my own, and not just Caroline, who was paid to jab me with needles.
    â€œThat won’t be necessary,” I said. “Please don’t bother Nolan. I’ll find something to do.”
    â€œGood girl.” She patted my hair. I bit down the urge to bark and beg for a cookie.
    Pick your battles, Pen, but then fight to the death for the ones that matter
.
    I wanted more of Carter’s advice, more of his answers.
    Ask forgiveness, not permission
.
    I didn’t go back to my room or toward the solarium, pool, library, or game room. I headed for Father’s office. I didn’t knock, and I didn’t ease the door open quietly. I also didn’t see my brother among the startled faces on the couches and chairs.
    â€œWhere’s Carter?” I’d spoken over someone. Interrupted what was probably a serious, important discussion, but I was too anxious to be embarrassed. Not even Nolan’s disapproving sniff, Al’s frown, or the Ward brothers’ snickers mattered.
    â€œOff with Garrett, I assume,” said Father with a touch of indulgent amusement, like I was still eight and looking to tag along on the boys’ latest adventure. “I haven’t seen them today—but it’s their summer break. I’m not a tyrant, sweet pea.”
    â€œSummer break … must be nice,” scoffed Jacob Ward and his brother Mick cuffed him.
    I didn’t pause to roll my eyes at them, apologize for interrupting, or do more than nod at Miles Banks’s “Good morning, Penelope.”
    I ran to the garage. His car was gone. So Father was right: he and Garrett had gone out. Maybe for doughnuts, or maybe they’d gone for Korean barbecue without me. For all I knew, they were bonding over Garrett’s lapse in brain activity when he’d mistakenly considered kissing me.
    And here I was worried about the jerk.
    So. Worried.
    â€œHey, princess.” I turned at the voice, at the noise of a car door opening. But it was only
one
door. Garrett’s car was parked in the driveway, and he was the only one getting out. His long legs made short work of the pavers between us, then he was standing there, head bent, shuffling his feet.
    I realized I hadn’t returned his greeting, but to do so at that point would be adding awkward on top of awkward.
    â€œHave you seen Carter?” we asked at the same time, then both looked up. Our eyes met, and I’m sure mine broadcast alarm—Garrett’s did too, for an instant, before he forced a smile.
    â€œHe’s not answering my calls. He must be
really
pissed at me,” said Garrett.
    â€œYou think that’s it?” Carter hadn’t seemed that mad when he said good night. Distracted, yes, but not mad at Garrett.
    â€œWhat else can it be? I’ve been waiting around all morning for him. And I’ve texted and called him a dozen times. I feel like a jilted girlfriend.”
    â€œHe’s never supposed to go off-estate without