Break Every Rule Read Free Page A

were broken up. We’re confusing their simple minds.”
    â€œOh, right.”
    They moved toward the center of the lobby, Mickey craning his neck for at least
one
of his guys. “Oh, shit,” he said suddenly, grabbing Philippa by the arm.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œMy dad,” Mickey yelped, pulling Philippa in the opposite direction and into a nook off the main lobby.
    â€œYou haven’t told them we’re back on yet, have you?”
    â€œNo, shhh, that’s just going to cause a lot of yelling,” Mickey said. He turned to see where they’d ended up. “Oh, sweet. Buffet.”
    â€œMickey, this makes me
really
mad,” Philippa said. She was petite and pale and gorgeous, and when she got mad she seemed to be radiating pure heat from the core of her being. Mickey thought she was adorable when she got like this.
    â€œC’mon,” he pleaded. Then he turned and started heaping his plate with shrimp.
    â€œMickey, how could you do this! I had, like, the biggest, suckiest confession session with my parents, and now your parents are going to find out from my parents, and I’m going to look totally stupid!”
    â€œPhil, you never look stupid,” Mickey said earnestly.
    â€œBesides, it’s dishonest,” Philippa went on. “My therapist and I were just talking about how the problem with our relationship is that it has a culture of dishonesty, and she’s so
dead on.
Everything is based on total delusion between us!”
    â€œIt is not!” Mickey yelled. Everyone else at the buffet table looked at them. The waiters cleared their throats.“Besides, my therapist says we temper each others’ worst qualities.”
    â€œOh, that is such
bullsh
—,” Philippa started to say.
    â€œExcuse me—,” someone said. They whipped their heads around. A girl with layered brown hair was standing next to them. She was holding a plate, and looked about twenty-five. In a voice slightly louder than everyone else’s, and slow, like she was talking to the feeble-minded, she said: “Sorry to interrupt, but are you Mickey Pardo, son of the sculptor Ricardo Pardo?”
    â€œWho are you?” Philippa asked coldly.
    â€œJustine Gray,
New York
magazine,” she said, wiping her hand on her jeans and extending her hand. “I’m a writer, and I’m here doing some last-minute research for our annual ‘Hottest Private School Boy’ issue. I was actually hoping I could talk to you.”
    Philippa held up a perfectly manicured hand, but Mickey was ready for some fun. He knew this issue. It came out every year, and Jonathan always read and talked about it obsessively.
    â€œI’m hot,” Mickey said. “I go to private school.”
    â€œMickey,” Philippa said. Mickey ignored her.
    â€œThis is my girlfriend, Philippa. She’s hot, too. We’re what you call a hot couple.”
    â€œ
Mickey
—”
    â€œSee, the thing is, our parents don’t want us to seeeach other. But we can’t be kept apart. That’s how hot we are. We’re practically about to burn this house down. We’re Romeo and freaking Juliet. I mean, we’ve been going out since freshman year, and it’s never been easy. But that’s what makes it so worth it. It shouldn’t
matter
whether my parents know we’re back together. Right?
Right!?
”
    â€œUh-huh,” the Gray girl said, politely pretending to take notes on a pad of paper.
    â€œWhat else do you want to know about me?” Mickey asked, popping a shrimp in his mouth.
    â€œ
Mickey
,” Philippa hissed, dragging him across the room. “Can I talk to you over here, please?” When they were a safe distance from the reporter person, she said, “You
do not,
I repeat
do not
tell my personal shit to random strangers. Is this what going out with you is always going to be