Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I feel so far beyond this emotional immaturity. I walked away with my head held high when I faced the same situation. It's what Celine should do, but only a friend can deliver that advice, and we're not friends.
But I do like her, and I do feel sorry for her. My sister Gabriella would expect me to do whatever it takes to help a friend.
It's the way our momma taught us to live our lives.
Picking up my phone, I tap out a quick response. Tonight's fine. Where?
She responds almost immediately with the name of a club. Shit. I don't want to go to that kind of place with an almost stranger. The music's too loud, making it impossible to talk. I can already feel the awkward silence stretching between us, or worse, having to dance.
I'm not a dancer. At least, I don't enjoy doing it in public. I have rhythm, so that isn't the problem. It's more that I find the whole ritual of strangers moving around in the dark weird.
I type out three messages suggesting other places, deleting them repeatedly. She obviously has a good reason for suggesting the bar she has. In the end, I agree to collect her from her dorm at ten pm and then rest back in my chair, stretching my back and dreading the night already.
A girl is waiting outside Celine's dorm as I approach, dressed in a gorgeous dark blue dress and strappy silver heels. With long dark hair set into loose curls, she's a knockout. I dial Celine's number as the girl approaches my car, placing her hand on the handle and pulling the door open. I'm about to tell her she's got the wrong car when I realize that it's Celine.
"Your hair," I gasp. She looks so frickin' different that I'm staring with my mouth open.
She slides into the passenger seat, closes the door, and fastens her seatbelt. "You like it?"
"It's…"
"You don't like it?" She frowns as I try to find the right words. This is some thin ice I'm skating on.
"You look good both ways. It's just a radical change."
"Radical changes are good for the soul."
I get that. I left Germany because I needed that kind of radical change. If dying her hair is what Celine needs to feel good, then all power to her. I just liked her red curls. They made her unique. Now she looks like half the girls out there.
I put the car into drive and flip it around so we're heading in the right direction.
"You're listening to The Eagles."
"Yeah. You know them?"
"Of course. Man, I love this song."
Celine starts to sing along with a voice that's way too sweet for the strumming guitar and gritty lyrics, but she knows all the words.
Glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, I can't help but smile as she presses her hands against her heart and throws everything she has into the song. She's so enthusiastic that I find myself joining in, and we spend the whole journey to the club trying to outdo each other with perfect renditions of the seventies rock classics we both seem to love so much.
The club is only half full when we arrive, but that's okay. I get us drinks, and Celine leads the way to a booth in the upper section that I didn't know existed. The music is loud and pumping and not the kind of thing I enjoy listening to, and I can't drink because I'm driving. But Celine beams at me and touches my arm.
"I know we don't know each other very well, so I appreciate you doing this for me."
"Any friend of my sister's is a friend of mine."
Celine smiles at that. "Gabriella is a really good friend."
"She's a good person."
"And what about you? Are you a good person?"
I let my attention drift to the bar where a blonde bar waitress stacks drinks onto a large tray. Am I a good person? I like to think so, but we all have thoughts and feelings that rest uncomfortably under our skin. I've been having more of those than I'd like recently.
"I try to be," I answer. "I guess that's all we can do."
Celine focuses on her drink, sucking half of it through the straw. "What I'm doing isn't good, is it?"
"Trying to make Eddie jealous?"
"I don't want him to be jealous," she says quickly. "That isn't what this is about. I don't want him back. I wouldn't touch that man with a ten-foot pole. This is about me showing him what he's going to be missing for the rest of his goddamned life. And me washing away all the horrible feelings I have with some new, more enjoyable experiences."
"And how's it working out?"
"Good, so far." Celine tucks her hair behind her ear and rests back in the booth.