Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“What? The last thing I need is to bust my butt on the sidewalk.”
She laughs some more. “It’s freezing out here! I need to get my party on!”
Cautiously, I pick up my pace, focusing on not falling. “Yeah, well, if I break my leg, I won’t be getting any partying on.”
Blaire looks down again and giggles. “If I could, I would carry you. I’d say you should take your heels off, but God knows what’s on this sidewalk.” She scrunches her nose up in disgust.
Ever since the first day of kindergarten, when Billy Cross pushed me down in the lunchroom, spilling my chocolate milk all over me, and Blaire came to my defense, stealing his chocolate milk in response, we’ve been attached at the hip—aside from the few years we went to separate colleges.
After college, Blaire and I both took teaching jobs in our hometown of Pleasantville. While Blaire and I both applied to public and private schools, she ended up accepting a position at the public elementary school, while I ended up teaching third grade at St. Juliana’s instead—after my mother guilted me into it. It’s not that I favored public over private. I just craved a break from my mom. And I knew if I accepted the position at the same church she works for, I would never get that break.
After I gave in on the teaching position, I made the decision to move out of my parents’ house. My mom argued tooth and nail, but it had to be done. She got her way with my education and job, but I wasn’t budging on my living situation. I needed space to find myself, and I knew it couldn’t be done while living under my parents’ roof. It’s been two years since I moved out and, while I’ve done a lot of soul searching, I haven’t exactly found much—at least not anything worth mentioning.
Our two-bedroom condo isn’t huge, but it’s homey and in a nice development fifteen minutes from Atlantic City and the beach. I love our home.
“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” I admit excitedly once we make our way to the back of the line.
Blaire shakes her head playfully, her light blond hair swooshing back and forth. It’s silky and pin straight and looks almost white from the sun. “I can’t believe it’s taken me two years to get you to go! We’re going to have so much fun.”
Up until today, Blaire has been my only defiance against my mother. Growing up, she would get bored easily and think of ways to cause mischief, taking me along for the ride—hence our little birthday field trip to this club.
My purse vibrates, and I pull my phone out. It’s a text from my brother letting me know he won’t be able to make it out for my birthday. It’s probably for the best since he would freak if he knew where Blaire ended up taking me. I had told him we were going out to dinner. In my defense, I had no idea Blaire’s real intentions.
I shoot him back a text, letting him know it’s okay and I’ll see him soon.
While my brother and I are close, our personalities and lives are like day and night. After he was kicked out of the private school we attended, he was sent to public school. Once he turned eighteen and graduated, he moved out, joined the police academy, and spent half his earnings getting tattoos all over his body—leaving me the only child living under our parents’ roof.
Sometimes I think they’re trying to mold me into what they couldn’t mold my brother into and, out of fear of me rebelling like he did, they keep me on lockdown twice as hard. To be fair, it’s more my mom than my dad. He just doesn’t go against anything she says. He may wear the pants in their marriage, but she’s clearly the one in charge of the zipper. If you catch my drift…
We make our way up the line and, once we’re granted access, walk down the dark hallway leading to the main floor. When we get to the end, the room opens, and the sight in front of me has me stopping in my tracks. Hypnotic music is pumping through the walls and speakers, and bright lights are shining down on the sleek bar top and dance floor. I smile to myself as I watch all the sweaty bodies grind on each other. This is just what I pictured a club would look like, and it’s exactly why I’ve stayed away. This place screams sex and sin and pleasure. All of which I have no business indulging in but secretly desire.
“What do you think?” Blaire yells over the music.
“I think it’s amazing!”
Blaire grabs my hand, and we make our way to a somewhat less crowded area of the dance floor. Ariana Grande’s voice surrounds us as we get lost in the music and, for the first time, as I dance with my best friend, I almost feel free.