The Museum of Heartbreak by Meg Leder Page A

was on the tip of my tongue, when I saw Audrey waving at me from a crowd of people down the hall.
    I didn’t know if I felt more relieved or disappointed.
    â€œI should probably say hi to my friend and stick it out a little longer. I’m sorry.”
    â€œNo problemo,” Miles said, pulling my cup closer and sipping more beer from it.
    I laughed as Grace pushed the beer back in my hands.
    â€œTake my details, in case you change your mind,” she said. I handed her my phone and she typed in her number.
    â€œLater,” Miles said, his smile hazy.
    â€œEat some churros for me!” I called out, watching them leave.
    I started to weave my way to Audrey, but being short in a crowd makes finding particular people pretty impossible. I stood on my tiptoes, my boots straining to give me some height, and wished I could transport myself by clicking my heels three times.
    â€œPen!” Audrey said, ducking under some guy’s armpit and bursting into my space. She pulled me into a hug. “You look incredible, starry girl! Isn’t this amazing? Let’s find Eph!” She grabbed my handand began tugging me through the crowd.
    â€œBy the way, what was that with you and him earlier?” she yelled over her shoulder.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œOn the bed. I thought you were going to start making out or something.”
    I stopped, grimacing. “No way. It was Eph .”
    â€œBut you’re getting all weird and blushy.”
    â€œNo I’m not!”
    â€œWhatever you say.”
    â€œNot whatever I say—what you’re suggesting is just wrong. Take it back.”
    She rounded the corner to the dining room, turned back, and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
    â€œTake. It. Back.”
    Eph’s arm was balanced against a door frame, and he was leaning over a girl dressed as Annie Hall, wearing a men’s vest, tie, and fedora. Wisps of long strawberry-blond hair trailed out from under her hat; a tiny nose piercing sparkled from the light of the dining-room chandelier. Her hand was resting on Eph’s elbow and she kept laughing at whatever he was saying.
    It was the Elf Queen.
    â€œGuess who’s interrupting one of Eph’s many hookups . . . ,” Audrey sang under her breath to me as she swept us in between the couple.
    â€œHey, Eph,” I said, more than a little embarrassed that we were cutting in.
    â€œPen, Audrey, long time no see,” he said, reluctantly dragging hiseyes away from the willowy girl.
    Audrey’s theory was clearly ridiculous.
    The Elf Queen leaned over, stretching out her hand to us. “I’m Mia.”
    â€œYeah, I know—I was there when you guys met,” I said, irritated that she hadn’t registered my existence.
    â€œOhhh, you were the one who pushed Ephraim over!”
    So she had noted my existence.
    â€œIt was an accident.”
    â€œHmmm, okay, whatever you say?” Mia said in a voice as sweet as perfect tiny pink flowers, all honey and lightness, a tone I personally thought was inappropriate to adopt when you were clearly implying someone was officially a shover-over-er.
    â€œNice to meet you,” Audrey said, extending her hand in return.
    â€œEphraim talks about you guys all the time,” Mia said eagerly.
    â€œMia’s an artist too,” Eph said.
    â€œEphraim’s an aaaaamazing artist,” Mia said, tilting her head up at him, touching his elbow lightly again.
    â€œOh, for God’s sake,” I muttered to myself. “Why are you here?” I asked her.
    Audrey elbowed me, whispering “Rude!”
    Mia either ignored or totally missed my tone. “Keats and I know each other from grade school,” she said brightly.
    Was Keats childhood friends with everyone ?
    Right then, from behind, a body slammed into me, and I spilled what was left of the beer down my shirt.
    â€œCrap!”
    â€œPenny! I’m so sorry!” Cherisse slurred, and