Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
I kind of hate myself for stopping.
I loved seeing the light in those kids’ eyes when they got a note right. I loved how they sang along with me and how some of them were really learning how to play the guitar by my side. I was a great teacher. I hope I can do that again whenever I find a stable place to live.
I know it’s bad to say, but I have been sort of using Shane. Don’t worry. I plan on stopping as soon as this trip is over…hopefully.
He bugs me, but he brought me here, to Vegas. I can’t complain much about what he’s done for me, but I do know he will be so pissed when he finds out Kylie is going to be in Vegas with us.
Speaking of, as Shane is standing in the line for check-in, my phone rings. When her name flashes on the screen, I squeal like a banshee.
“Kylie!” I answer.
“Jen, babe! Where are you? I’m at the Aria and I just checked in. I’m by the poker tables now!”
“Seriously?” I shriek. “I’m in the lobby!”
“Really?!”
“Yes! Meet me by the slot machines. They’re right across from me.”
“On my way.”
I hang up and then look towards Shane. He’s already looking at me, so I point a thumb back at the machines. He rolls his eyes, nodding reluctantly.
He’s in a long line. It will take him a while.
I rush in the direction of the slot machines, peering around, on the hunt for my only best friend.
I don’t see her at first, but when I spot her coiled, bleached hair and all of the gold bangles she loves to wear on her wrists, I squeal again. We’re like little piglets, I swear.
She stands in the middle of the walkway with her arms stretched wide and I run right into them, nearly tackling her to the ground as I lock my arms around her neck.
Everyone looks at us like we’re insane. I don’t even care. I haven’t seen her in six months. It’s been six months too long.
“Kylie!”
“Jenny!” she sings. She pulls back and looks me over. “What is this? You’re all dressed up! Since when do you dress up?”
I laugh. “I wanted to look nice coming into the city.”
“Well, you looking fucking amazing, baby love.”
“And you look just as stunning as always, my dear.”
She winks playfully and we make our way over to sit at two of the empty slot machines.
“So where’s the prick?” she asks, and her eager mood rapidly dissipates.
I roll my eyes, pointing back. “Checking in. Oh, by the way, I haven’t told him I was linking up with you, so don’t get too offended if he says something about you being here.”
She thins her eyes as she looks towards the check-in line. “I wish that fucker would say something about why I’m here. It’s a free fucking country and you were my best friend long before you ever met that jackass.”
I giggle. “Kylie, stop it. He’s not that bad.”
“No, no. You’re right.” She waves a dismissive hand, but then she zeros in on me with those bright hazel eyes. “He’s worse. He’s the spawn of Satan.”
I fight a laugh. It’s hard to hold it in when we both think the same way sometimes.
“Why don’t you just ditch him? Come stay in my room? It will be just like old times.”
“I would love that.” I sigh. “But, unfortunately, that’s not how it works with Shane. I would feel bad to just abandon him after all he’s done for me, you know?”
“Hey, like you always tell me, he’s not your boyfriend. He’s just a ‘friend’.” She makes air quotes with her fingers. “If you need someone to get you off, I can find a guy. I’ll pluck one right out for you and you’ll be set. This is Vegas, baby. Forget Shane.” Kylie turns to face the machine. She digs through her clutch and then pushes a few coins in.
Grabbing the lever, she asks, “Anyway, what are your plans for tonight?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “He says he has something planned but he’s so damn boring. I’m hoping it’s not an opera or something.”
Kylie chokes on a laugh. “Let’s hope not.”
“Whatever it is, I know you’re coming with me. I refuse to spend my time in Vegas wallowing.” A woman passes by us with two drinks in hand. My tongue tingles at the sight of the short, round glasses. “You know what? Speaking of wallowing, I’m about to go to the bar. I can fit one drink in before Shane is finished, don’t you think?”
“Fuck yes—wait… one… sec. Oh, come on!” She bangs the slot machine when it buzzes. “Damn it! I never fucking win at these things.”
I snort. “Does anyone?”
We meet at the bar where a young blonde is. She smiles at us, asking what we’d like. I order a whiskey sour, and as soon as the cool glass meets my hand, I bring the rim up to my lips.