Page 11 of Love Me Gently

“Nah, I’m not the best, but I am pretty awesome, and I’ll be sure to plan all sorts of awesomeness for you.”

Her grin was enchanting. Thinner than me by at least ten pounds and about the same height, Stella had slick, inky black hair that came to sharp points right at her shoulders. Her eyes were wide and blue, and she always carried a bounce in her step like she knew every day was going to be the best day of her life.

I pushed away thoughts of Cole and home and everything I wanted to forget, and I vowed to trust Stella.

This Christmas, this New Year’s—it’d be the best of my life.

It was time to move forward, so with only minimal hesitation, I slipped Cole’s letter into a mailbox we passed on the street and pretended it would slip him into my past as well.

There was no looking back.

It was time to chase my dreams until I caught them.

“Happy New Year!”

The cacophony of shouts rang in my ears. I was surrounded by an enormous group of Stella’s friends, in an apartment in Brooklyn. A friend of hers, Zane, was hosting the New Year’s party bash for all of his NYU friends who were hanging around the area for the holidays. I was, by far, the youngest person in attendance, although if anyone noticed, no one seemed to care. At least they didn’t care enough to tell me I shouldn’t be drinking beer from the keg.

It was my first New York party and while I wanted to be enjoying every moment of it, while I’d tried to enjoy every moment of the incredible Christmas Stella had wanted to give me, my heart was only half into it.

I might have made things seem better in my letter to Cole than they truly were. How could I not? I’d left him and Deer Creek to make it big.

I wasn’t certain my last job of being a stand-in in a soap commercial that showed fifty other stand-ins in a group shot was making it big.

God, how I wanted it to happen. I wanted an agent and my name to be known in households all over the world. I wanted my face on billboards and in magazine spreads. I wanted to walk the catwalk wearing designs from Gucci and Hermès. I wanted to travel to Milan and France for their shows.

I wanted it all, and even though I could be grateful for some of the small successes I had, hell, even landing the non-paid stand-in role a couple of weeks ago, it wasn’t enough.

It made me fearIwasn’t enough.

And wouldn’t that be the worst of the worst of all things?

Falling flat on my face and having to move back to Deer Creek, my tail tucked between my legs, facing Cole again with nothing but failure stamped on my forehead.

Everything I’d done…for nothing.

Tears burned my eyes as I thought about that possibility, and I tossed back the rest of my beer. I’d been drinking for hours but only finished two cups. The warm beer tasted like spit as I forced it down and headed outside for fresh air. Perhaps a frigid blast of icy wind would adjust my attitude.

The building we were at had a small front stoop that was so common in New York walk-ups. It wasn’t smart to be outside alone, nor was it smart of me to holding a cup of beer while I was two months shy of turning nineteen, but the shouts and the cheers and celebration from inside the first floor apartment blared through the opened windows.

“Not into the holiday spirit?” a voice asked.

I was so startled, I jumped from my spot on the cement step and turned.

I was so into my thoughts I hadn’t heard the heavy metal door open or close or hear Zane step outside.

“You scared me,” I said. “And no, not this year, I suppose I’m not. What are you doing here?”

He held up a cigarette and flicked open his lighter. “Hate the smell of smoke inside my house.”

I hated the smell of smoke anywhere, but whatever he was lighting wasn’t a normal cigarette, the kind the guys in my high school used to steal from their parents so they could look cool around the fields and bonfires and beer kegs. It had a different smell than regular tobacco, sweeter.

“What is that?” I asked, stepping away from the plume of smoke as he exhaled.

“Clove cigarettes.” He held it out to me. “Want to try?”

“No thank you.”

“Right.” He smirked and settled the cigarette back against his lips, speaking while he inhaled. “Stella told me you’re from a small town, living in the big city to make dreams come true, am I right?”

---