“How do you stand it?
“What, my friends fawning over my brothe
r? Eh, I know he’ll never date one, so it doesn’t really matter.”
“Really, because we could be like sisters,” I tell her, taking a sip of the concoction. It’s strong, fruity and right up my alley.
“Ain’t gonna happen. Besides, he’s in love with his girlfriend. It’s sickening, yet sweet.”
Figures.
As soon as we finish our drinks, we hit the dance floor. It’s where we stay until about five in the morning when the club starts to shut down. Instead of going home, Kellie and I decide to go to breakfast. Nothing like greasy hash browns to soak up the liquor.
“I’m going to have a hangover.”
“Yeah, we probably shouldn’t have drunk so much,” she says, laying her head down on the table. “Do you think they’d care if we slept here.”
“Yes, and I would care. First, you asked me if I decided to make Pretty Woman a reality and now you want me to sleep in a grease infested diner? Get up and let’s go home where we have a shower and bed.”
“Ugh, fine.”
Back in school, our suite partied. We hosted, attended, and crashed our fair share. Hangovers are nothing. The problem is, the sun’s up and we’re just now finishing up our night. I should’ve seen this coming, but I was blinded by the idea of going out. Tomorrow… I mean today is going to suck rotten eggs.
No sooner do we open the door and head to our respective rooms, does my phone ring. It’s an unknown number and I’m tempted to send it to voicemail. “Hello?”
“This Nola?”
“Yeah.” My heart jumps. Only one person calls me this. “Zeke?”
“Yeah. You’re on. Start tonight at five.” He hangs up before I can thank him or even ask him what my rate of pay is, although with the tips I made last night, I don’t really care because it’s enough to last me through the week.
I try to sleep, but each time I close my eyes and I’m on the cusp of falling asleep, I dream that I’m falling, and startle awake. Reaching for my phone, I call Sofia, hoping she’s not at work yet or if she is, she’s on a break. Since I arrived here, and she’s started her job, we haven’t been able to talk every day and our text message marathons are short and sweet.
“Hello,” she answers, sounding like she’s out of breath.
“How’s the working life?”
“Hey. It’s great. I love my job. How’re things?”
“Good. I got a job waiting tables. It’ll give me some pocket cash while I’m here.”
“Do your parents know yet?”
“Nope. I texted them and said we’re sight-seeing, taking our time and just enjoying the road trip.”
“And they bought it?”
“I hope they did. Guess what?”
“What? Did you meet someone? What about Roy?” She’s giggling, making me miss her even more.
“No, and Roy’s still Roy. But…” I pause for dramatic effect. “Last night at work, there was this singer. Wicked cute, wearing a beanie. I kept staring at him because he looks so familiar. Well, he gets on stage and says his name is Quinn!” I’m over the top excited to tell her. I mean, what are the chances that I run into her brother while I’m here.
“Oh.”
“Oh? Aren’t you excited? I tried to talk to him, but his girlfriend got butthurt and pushed me out of the way.”
“What’d you say to him?” The peppiness in her voice is gone and I don’t understand why.