Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
I used to take this subtle change lightly before, but not anymore. This time, I’m the one who pushes the swarming bees out of the way, then drag my friend through a hall that leads to the toilets.
The dark walls are decorated with grunge neon signs of London, the red lighting casting a warm glow on the otherwise dim space.
The chaos filters behind us, the music lowers a notch, and Cecily releases a breath as she leans against the wall.
“Ready to go home?” she asks slowly, almost hopefully.
“You know the exact answer to that.” I pinch her cheek. “You go. I know you don’t like these scenes.”
“There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you here alone when you’re half drunk, Ava. This club is in the middle of nowhere and gives off sketchy vibes. No clue why you came all the way here.”
“Something different from the usual Soho places. I’m all for adventures.”
“Are you sure this isn’t about your latest participation in the international cello competition?”
Phantom pain squeezes my chest, but I put on my best smile. “Nope. Maybe I wasn’t made for classical music and should switch to DJing. It’s much more fun anyway.”
“Ava…” She’s interrupted by a group of drunk girls giggling and swaying their way between us to the toilet queue.
Cecily takes my hand in hers. “Want to buy some junk food and rewatch Bridget Jones's Diary?”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend you need to, I don’t know, fly to New York with?”
So maybe I’m being salty, but I know I have no right to be. I always thought Cecily was my soul twin. My person. My sister. The one person who was always in my corner.
But that was before I realized how dependent I was on her. How inconveniencing I was to her. She took care of all my dumb drunk adventures. Kept me safe, sane, wiped my forehead after I got sick, then held me to sleep. She listened to my nonsense and let me invade her space with no complaints.
After she found the love of her life and he pointed out that I was taking all her goodwill and giving nothing in return, I hated him.
I thought it was logical to despise him, too. He’s taking my bestie, and no one deserves my bestie. But no, the real reason I couldn’t stand Jeremy was because he told me the truth I’d refused to see all along.
He was right. I’ve been too reliant on Cecily. Too clingy. Too childish. A mess of epic proportions, if you will. But it’s not Cecily’s responsibility to keep me together.
Which is why I kept my mouth shut when she said she was moving with said boyfriend to the States, even if it’s been killing me inside.
Just now was a slip. I blame the alcohol.
I trap my bottom lip beneath my teeth and bite down so harshly, I’m surprised no blood gushes out.
“So you’re not okay with it, after all?” She watches me carefully. “I knew it. I was surprised you didn’t throw a tantrum.”
“I’m just kidding,” I lie through my teeth. “You go live your life, Cecy.”
“I can stay a few more weeks.”
“No. Don’t stop your life because of me.”
“You’re not a burden.” She clasps my shoulders. “I’m worried about you. Like, really, really worried. You’ve been drinking so much, it’s almost an addiction at this point. You haven’t been taking your meds regularly and you keep spiraling into these destructive patterns more often than not.”
“It’s called having fun.”
“Taking weird pills from strangers is not fun. It’s suicidal.”
“They’re not strangers. They’re friends.”
“Not good ones.” She sighs. “I’m not the only one who’s worried, Ava. Your mum and dad are, too. Is it true that you haven’t spoken to them since you left the competition hall?”
“I texted.” My voice gets caught and I swallow, then exhale deeply to release the tension.
“And you believe that’s enough?”
“For now.” I can’t trust myself to speak to Papa and Mama and not break down. I’ve had three panic attacks in three days. I know I’m spiraling and a huge episode is growing in the distance, but no one needs to know about that.
Least of all Cecy, who’s finally found her well-deserved happiness. If she figures out what’s wrong, she won’t go to the States, and I can’t be in her way anymore.
“I’ll take the meds on time and cut down on drinking. I promise.” I lean my head on her shoulder so she doesn’t see the blatant lies in my eyes. “But only if you FaceTime me every day for at least three hours.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I push away reluctantly and jut my chin in the direction opposite us. “Now go to your man and do your magic before he kills the guys who surrounded us on the dance floor.”
Her eyes light up, and then her entire body angles toward a tall, broad guy with full sleeves of tattoos. A personality that’s completely contrary to hers. And, wait for it, he’s an actual Russian mafia prince in New York.