Free Pressure Point (Point #2) by Olivia Luck Page A

releases the knot of fear clogging my throat.

Stella
    “Did this really happen to me?” Violet stares at the sparkling stone in amazement, her lunch easily forgotten.
    Leaning back in the bistro chair, I cock my head to the side. “Why wouldn’t it happen to you? Max has been in love with you from the moment you sat down next to him at Red Bar. Whenever you’re in the room, the guy can’t keep his eyes off you. He once told me, verbatim, ‘I will spend the rest of my life with Violet Harper.’ And don’t you blush, I know he’s said that to you at least fifty times in front of me. Who knows how many times he’s said it behind closed doors.”
    “You’re right. What am I thinking? I’m getting married to the greatest man in the world. Life is freaking swell.” Over the past few years, I’ve come to learn that Violet’s extremely religious Baptist parents raised her not to swear. The worst curse word I’ve heard her utter is darn.
    “Couldn’t happen to a better couple. I’m so happy for you two, I could burst,” I tell Violet genuinely. “Then we’ll be more than best friends, we’ll be related.”
    Violet beams at me. “Can I call you cuz? I think that’s a cute way to refer to a cousin.”
    “You’re a dork.”
    “A dork you’re about to be related to!” Her pleased expression settles into a more concerned one. “Any word from Zoe or Blake?”
    A sour feeling settles into my stomach. Failure is something that, up until now, I’ve had the fortune of not experiencing. It’s almost December, three months since Clinton Smith marched into Clarkes Elementary with a gun and Zoe convinced him to turn himself in. The morning after Clinton stalked into the school and pointed a gun at Zoe, she painstakingly shared the details with Blake and me. The suicidal young man wanted to hurt the students and then himself. Zoe, our beloved Zoe, stopped him by talking him down.
    It was a miracle that she wasn’t hurt. Physically, at least.
    “No better than the last time you asked.” I grimace and set the fork down. Suddenly, my appetite is gone. “Whenever I visit her at Blake’s, she sends me away. He thinks that maybe she’s ashamed of herself, but what is there to be ashamed of? I’m supposed to be her best friend and I want to support her through this.”
    “Don’t blame yourself. I can see it in your eyes that you do.” Violet shoots me a pointed look, reading my mind as usual. “Zoe needs time to get herself together and if the girl wants to do it alone, you have to let her do it alone. She’ll be back when she’s ready.”
    With a defeated sigh, I press my back into my chair. “If I give up on her, I’ll fail her.” That’s the bottom line. Zoe finally relented to see a therapist a few weeks back, according to Blake, and yet she continues to refuse to see me.
    “How is her recovery a reflection on you?” Violet scoffs. “Unsolicited opinion alert: seems like whatever happened at Clarkes dredged up underlying issues for Zoe. There’s nothing you can do –”
    “Except keep trying,” I interrupt.
    Violet nods thoughtfully. “Fair enough. Don’t take me the wrong way; I want Zoe to be back to her old self, too. But I hate seeing you in pain. Perhaps it’s time to give her the space that she clearly wants.”
    I frown at the thought. Deep down, I know Violet has a point. Zoe’s recovery is not under my control, and at some juncture, I need to respect her wishes and stop dropping by unannounced. At least, my visits are unannounced to her. When I offered to manage Zoe’s move out of her apartment and back into Blake’s home, we exchanged phone numbers. Now, I text him before I visit Zoe, though we haven’t spent much time together. Ever since that day in Zoe’s room, he’s been short with me, avoiding any possibility of us being alone. I haven’t had much time to dwell on his unfriendly behavior because I’ve been too busy worrying about his sister. I guess that’s what he