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Authors: Tara Brown

BOOK: The Lonely
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"Good."
He hangs up.

I
put the phone down.

A
text comes in instantly,
'Ignore the bad messages, the early in the morning
ones. Got a bit desperate.'

I
ignore them all. Including the ones my eyes are reading out of habit.

I
glance up at Shell. She bites her lip, "He gets so crazy. I'm scared of
him. He phoned Stuart's phone and screamed like a psycho. Maybe you should call
the cops."

I
sigh, and look at her sideways, "And say what? I have a mysterious
benefactor who insists on reaching me and keeping me safe? And then whine that
in return, I have to suffer through his bad temper, lack of social skills and
incessant need to have my cell phone on. The cell phone he gave me, for free.
Along with the fact he's paid for everything for you and I."

She
crosses her arms, "Sometimes he's a bastard, dude. A nasty-bastard. He's
always watching you. It's creepy. We can go home anytime, you know that
right?"

I
shake my head, "No, he isn’t. He's like a dad or a big brother. He worries
and overreacts. It's scary when he does it, but it's all in the name of keeping
me safe. I went on a date with a stranger and then was unreachable. Your dad
would be pissed if we were back home in Clovis. Besides, I don’t want to go
back. Clovis isn’t my home." It never was.

She
concedes, "Okay."

I
distract her, "How was your date?"

She
beams again, "Oh my god. Oh my god. It was…oh my GAWD."

I
roll my eyes. "Glad one of us has some oh my god going on."

She
flashes me a grim look, "Pretty hard to have any oh my god when you hose
every boy within a five-foot radius with seasonally-scented hand sani. You never
let anyone close enough."

I
point, "I also don't have any STD's, pregnancy scares, or guys who won't
stop calling. And smelling like pumpkin-spice is a nice way to spend the
day."

She
rolls her eyes, "True dat. So we going out? You put me in charge of the
New Leaf foundation here at University and I think this is an excellent way to
start it off. I heard there is a bar around that is fun with a capital T for
trouble."

I
laugh, but she doesn’t change her desperate expression. She pleads, "New Leaf?
I was kidding about the T for Trouble. It's called Taboo. Supposed to be fun.
The T is for Taboo. Okay, maybe a tiny bit of trouble. We can go somewhere else
more mellow." Her voice rises with hope and sweetness.

I
roll my eyes, "I don’t do clubs."

"You'll
have fun."

I
look at her, astonished she actually said that.

"Please,
try to have fun." Her attack is a pout and a soft smile.

"I
don’t want to go."

"If
you hate it we never have to go again."

I
cross my arms over my robe and tilt my head, "If I have a panic
attack?"

"We
can come home right away. I'll pack extra sani's and your paper bag."

I
sigh.

She
pleads and bats her eyelashes, "We can't drink. We're minors and not on
the Mexican border. All we can do is dance and maybe score a bit of ecstasy if we're
lucky enough to find some." I nearly stroke.

I
glower, "No. No drugs or I don’t go." My brain is screaming because I
don’t want to go and somehow she has made me agree to it.

She
jumps off the bed, grabbing my hands and hopping in an excited circle. I'm
pretty sure I've just been had. She threw the drugs in to get me to agree and
then was fine with the drugs leaving the table.

We
change into club clothes, for me this is a t-shirt and jeans and strappy
sandals but minus the running watch. I'm feeling bold. I laugh at myself in my
head, but a thought about how crazy people laugh inside their heads floats
through. So I stop and look at myself in the mirror, the new mirror Stuart
installed.

I
look like I do going to the gym, same ponytail and no makeup. She, however,
dolls up.

I
look like Plain-Jane next to her, exactly how I like it.

Crossing
the parking lot, we run into a group of people. "Hey Michelle," One
of the girls calls out.

I
look at Shell. She shrugs, "Stuart took me out last night. I met her in
the seating line up at a pub. Be right back." She runs over to where the
girl is huddled with other girls. She makes friends everywhere. It's how I met
her. She forced me to talk to her. I shiver and push away the memory.

I
don’t run over. I stand where I was and notice a couple of the guys in the
group walking toward me.

"Hi."
An amazing looking guy nods at me. His grin makes me feel dirty. It's a bad
feeling. "What's your name?" I feel like I'm in trouble when he looks
at me.

"Her
name is none of your business. Now let's go." Shell storms back over and
grabs my hand. She pulls me away just in the nick of time. Just as my hands
started to sweat.

Her
long, leggy steps are ridiculous in the four-inch heels. She drags me down the
street. When we get to the bar, Shell looks back at the girls behind us and
grins. Three of them run up to where we are. They shorten skirts and plump
breasts as we near the huge lineup.

One
of the girls leans into me, "You should probably stand back with the dudes
or tie your shirt up and pull your jeans down to the hipbones."

I
frown and look at Shell, '"Are you for real?"

Shell
nods, "They won't let you in if you don’t look hot. Smoking hot. Otherwise
it's the line up."

"You
might have let me in on that before we left the house." I murmur.

"You
wouldn’t have come. Stop being a baby."

I
look past her at the huge line up and then down at my thin black t-shirt. I
then look back at the hot guy with the scary smile. He winks at me.

"Oh,
hell no." I roll my shirt up into my bra and reef on my jeans. They sit
just above my underwear. I shiver and wrap my hands around my now naked
midsection. If sister Elizabeth saw me now she would flog me. I can feel the
flogging if I let myself get too wrapped up in the fear of exposing myself like
this.

My
phone vibrates instantly. I know Stuart is probably spying on us and reporting
back to the master. I take deep breaths when the bouncer gives us the greasiest
smile ever, and pulls the rope aside for us.

A
tall blonde points back at the guys, "They're with us."

The
guys hustle through too. The creepy one is pressed into my back. His hands are
near my sides. I can feel the warmth of him on my bare skin, brushing against
me.

We
are rushed through to the club.

The
music pumps so hard I can feel it in my teeth. The panic starts to set in, but
in the middle of it all something happens. Something that has never happened
before.

I
like the song that's playing and the room smells like something familiar, in a
good way. I look around and no one notices me. No one is looking at me.

I
let Shell pull me out onto the dance floor. I pull my t-shirt down and jeans up
a bit. We start to dance. I've never been a big dancer so I'm surprised when I
like it.

I
start giving into urges and throwing my arms up and letting my hair down.

I'm
having fun. I'm not the prettiest girl. The bar is full of them. The boys
aren't touching me or trying to talk to me. The fears I have are numbed by the
fact I'm not getting the attention I feared I would.

Well,
not until a tall guy in a light-blue shirt and dark-gray slacks walks up to me.
He's dressed fancy for a bar in a college town. His face is handsome in a way
that commands my instant respect. He looks like he should have supermodels on
either arm, or be in a music video. He doesn't look older, just confident and
dangerous.

He
smiles at me and it's scary and cold. "Want to dance?"

I
can barely hear him over the music. I shake my head, "No, thank you."

He
smiles at me and looks down. He has dark hair in a faux hawk and a dimple in
his left cheek. I know him. I swear it. It almost scares me. His icy-blue eyes
are so familiar, but like they're locked behind a haze.

"Do
I know you?" I ask, almost like I'm in a dream. He looks at me with
confusion mixed with a subtle hint of severity.

"I
don't think so." He looks around. His cool demeanor and stylish clothes
are catching the eyes of the girls around us.

It
hits me when I look at the other guys in the bar. He is controlling himself and
moody compared to the other guys. He looks severe and harsh. I can't help but
wonder why he's talking to me. The girl who looks like she might be the
janitor, not the girls who are almost naked and grinding up against each other.

It
hits me like a ton of bricks and I know why he's talking to me. I grin
sarcastically, "Are you him? Are you my guardian?" I am smarter than
he gives me credit for being.

His
cold blue eyes harden and he instantly looks more confused and less interested
in me. "Him who? What?" He takes a step back and laughs, like he's
confused but also mocking me. He rolls his icy eyes, "I just wanted a
dance."

I
frown. He turns and walks away. It stings a bit, he rejected me and somehow I
feel like a head case from it. Like I'm crazy for thinking he could be the man
helping me. I've never felt rejection. People are usually overly kind to me.
Except the nuns and fathers. Growing up, we were always made to work hard and
respect people. We were treated based on how we acted. I learned that quickly.

I
reach into my back pocket and pour the hand sanitizer into my palm. I rub and
close my eyes. The smell is therapy.

Shell
must have seen it. Her icy cold hands grip my arm and shock me. I spin wide
eyed, "What?"

She
looks over to where the guy disappears into the crowd, "Was he bugging
you?"

I
shake my head. But she eyeballs the hand sanitizer and makes her own
conclusions.

"This
was a mistake. We should go." She looks worried.

I
shake my head, "No. It's fine. I like it here. It's so intense and busy, I
actually feel lost in the crowd. Like I blend."

Her
face splits, "Oh man." She sighs, "I'm so glad. I was stressed
about bringing you here dude. I know it's my job to push the New Leaf thing,
but I was scared."

I
shake my head, "Let's dance."

She
arches an eyebrow, "Wanna drink?"

I
almost say no. I pause and give the question the moment it deserves. I nod. I'm
not scared of the bar. I don't hate it. I wanted a normal college life. One
drink is definitely normal. If it's not normal, it's New Leaf for sure.

She
comes back after a minute with a bottle of beer. She passes it to me and
squeals, "The bartender thought I was twenty-one. He sold these to
me." She widens her eyes in excitement and drinks. She brings it down and
clinks it against mine, "To a New Leaf." She shouts, grinning and
looking around.

She
is having so much fun. I love it. I can't help but wonder, if I can suck some
of the fun off of her and force myself to be more outgoing like her. If I can
force myself to not look to closely at the people around us, or the fact I am
teetering on the edge of something bad.

I
stand closer and compel myself to loosen up. I drink a gulp of beer. It isn’t a
big thing to her, but I've never drunk beer. It tastes sick, but I force myself
to drink it. It's freedom and adulthood and a New Leaf. Okay, it's a lot to
place on one beer.

"Emalyn."

I
look to where I've heard my name. My face instantly becomes happiness in a
look. My breath is caught in my chest. The pounding beat of the music and the
pair of hazel eyes looking at me, are making me happy. Divinely happy. It's a
new feeling.

"Sebastian."
I had no idea how hot he actually was. Seeing him dressed up, not casual at
all, is impressive. I forget my name momentarily.

His
smile is bright. He looks at my beer confusedly, "Never saw you as a bar
and a beer kind of girl."

I
shake my head, "First beer and first bar."

He
steps in closer, so he doesn’t have to shout. He smells so good my palms sweat,
probably for hand sanitizer, he's pretty close. I fight off the urge. He leans
down into my neck and speaks close to my ear, "You doing okay?"

I
could love this guy. If my heart ever decided to open up to anyone, it would be
him I choose. I nod.

His
breath tickles my neck, "If you need out of here you just let me know,
okay."

I
smile into his shoulder and sigh, "Yup."

He
stands back up. It makes some kind of cross breeze and his cologne, that I must
have missed when I smelled him, is wafted back at me. It takes up all the
sweaty air around me. In that moment, I feel it. The wall. The beer almost
slips from my hands. I pass it to him, "Can you just hold this. I need to
go to the ladies."

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