How would I return it to the Boutique if it was at the cleaners? “Um… I’ll take care of it mom.”
My phone started buzzing in my hand. Star. She was calling this time. Unfortunately, my mom glanced over in time to see who was calling.
“You better pick up for your boss sweetie.” I could tell she wanted to listen in, but at my exasperated look she backed out and closed the door softly.
I let the call go to voicemail.
My stomach was in knots already at barely seven in the morning. And this day had started out so promising!
I fell back against my pillow and closed my eyes. I was watching somebody else live my life. This other girl. She tripped through the days for me until I decided to check back in again.
How though?
How did I take my life back when I could barely get dressed each morning?
My phone chimed this time. She left a voicemail.
I needed to move.
Sit up.
Do anything.
I turned my head and got a whiff of Hunter’s jacket which sent me spiraling into memories of random moments from last night. That grin when he saw me bidding on him. Riding on his back. Him telling me my legs were perfect.
That kiss.
That.
Kiss.
I’d never felt so turned on, so quickly, in my entire life. If the Uber driver hadn’t arrived so quickly… I might just have lost my ‘good girl’ status. It was like something had reconnected nerves I’d thought were dead. Feelings I’d not thought about in forever had sprouted and bloomed in a matter of seconds.
My blood seemed to be flowing again. And yes. Yes. I think the beat of my heart was a little stronger.
I grabbed my journal and made a list.
Things to do today:
1)Shower.
2)Get dressed.
3)Listen to Star’s Message.
4)Breathe.
After accomplishing these tasks, I would allow myself a cup of coffee. Or five.
Once I started the shower, it wasn’t so bad. Getting dressed was a little more difficult. It meant making decisions.
Okay. Jeans and a t-shirt. I added some mousse to my hair and scrunched it so it dried curly and not frizzy. After putting on some eyeliner and mascara I realized I was out and out procrastinating now.
I checked numbers one and two off my list and then picked up my phone. Not looking at her texts, I opened the phone icon and hit voicemail. Before I had the chance to change my mind Star Martin’s voice slithered into the privacy of my bedroom.
“You little cunt. Did you think you could hide this from me? A fucking baseball player? You spent ten thousand dollars of my money on a fucking baseball player? I knew you weren’t the brightest tool in the drawer, but even I didn’t think you were this stupid!”
She ranted in similar fashion for four minutes and twenty-eight seconds. The longer she droned on, the less horrible I felt.
