Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
“Everything.” I sit down at the kitchen table, trying to speak even though it feels like it’s impossible. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you or make you feel bad, and it’s all my fault.” I haven’t cried like this in a long time, and part of me wonders just how long this has been coming. “I’ve been a shitty friend, and I hope that you can forgive me. I wasn’t going to take the job, I swear. I was never going to take it, but Julian offered me so much money.” My voice breaks and I have to take a breath, “I couldn’t say no.”
“How much money?” Cosette asks.
I take a sip of my water, trying to get control of myself. “Two hundred thousand dollars.”
The glass she’s holding falls to the ground, forgotten, water spilling everywhere. “Holy fucking shit.”
“And I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to tell you about Julian or the money, because I thought you were nervous. Maybe a little unsure about us working together.”
“You can’t quit,” she shakes her head. “Not when you’re getting that kind of money.”
“I was getting the money but I was losing you. Nothing is worth that.” I hiccup, and take another sip of water.
Cosette’s eyes are glassy now too, and I’m afraid that if she starts crying that I’ll lose it again. Not to mention that she’ll ruin her make-up. “I can’t believe you’d do that for me.”
“I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
She tackles me in a hug, crying now too. “I’m sorry too. I haven’t exactly been a saint. I got jealous, and then you kept getting all the tips and everyone was saying you were the best dancer and I felt so worthless. And since I’m the one who auditioned in the first place, I just couldn’t shake the feeling. None of that is your fault. I’ve been a shitty friend too.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t never make you jealous like that on purpose.”
She nods. “I know. Just…sometimes it seems like things come so easily for you. And I’ve been struggling for so long that it’s hard sometimes. But I don’t want that to mess up us.”
“Yeah.”
We hold each other for a few minutes more, and then she asks, “So you really were fucking the boss?”
I laugh, even though it’s still weak from the crying. “Yes. And it was great.”
“Are you going to keep seeing him?”
“I don’t know.” It’s an honest answer. I tell her a little more about Julian and the time we’ve spent together. How he helped her last night, in case she doesn’t remember. How he laughs at my jokes. How he makes me feel pleasure I’ve never felt. But I also share my doubts. “We never saw each other outside of the club. And after finding out how the rest of the dancers actually felt about me, I can’t say for sure that it wasn’t all a ruse.” I take a shaky breath. “Just a stupid fling.” My heart hurts when I say those words. I don’t want it to be a stupid fling. I want it to be a current fling. I want it to be a future fling.
“It sounds kind of like you’re falling for him.”
“Would that be so bad?”
She smile., “If you never see him again, yeah, that might be bad.”
“Yeah.” I can’t bring myself to say more than that. It’s true, but now that I’m not going to be working there, I don’t know if he’ll want me. And I’m too much of a coward to find out. At least today.
Cosette sighs. “This kind of sucks. I really want to stay, have a girls’ night, but I need to go to work.”
“That’s okay. We’ll have a girls’ night your next night off.”
“Deal,” she says. “Pizza and Project Runway?”
“You know it.”
Cosette bounces off to her room to finish getting ready, and I finish my water, relishing the hydration after my long climb up the mountain. I don’t really want to be alone tonight, but I’m not going to stop Cosette from going to work. That would be more selfishness on top of what I’ve already done. Cosette comes back with her bag, and gives me a hug. “I’ll see you later, okay? Try not to mope too much.”
“I’ll try.”
She winks at me. “But there’s cookie dough in the fridge just in case you want to.”
I laugh, and as I do, our doorbell rings. I look at Cosette. “Was that the doorbell?”
“We have a doorbell?” She laughs. “Shows how much we entertain.”
A knock follows, insistent. “Guess they really want us to answer.”
“I’ll get it. I’m heading out anyway.”
I follow her to the entryway on the off chance it’s, you know, an axe murderer waiting on the other side. But it’s not an axe murderer. Cosette opens the door, and there, breathing like he’s run a marathon, is Julian.