Page 5 of Petals of Blue: Part One
She's my world. There's no fucking way I'm letting my past touch her.
Shoveling another metaphorical patch of dirt onto that reminder, I take a sip of my coffee. "So, where are we dancing this weekend?"
Just like that, lightness fills me as I discussmynext adventure with my besties. My life isn't about assholes and douchebags who leave me and bruise me. At least not anymore.
My life is all about food, snuggles with my girl, partying with my friends, shaking my ass, and making shitbetter.
That's all I would like to do—make my life better than it was.
I won't ever sink so deep again. Nothing will drag me down.
Three
BLUE
Ilied. Nothing ruins my day faster than the horrible downward spiral of not knowing what to wear.
It always starts with not knowing, then goes to hating every piece of clothing I own, and ends with feeling hideous. I've worked hard for the wardrobe I have, and it's stupid that I can't figure out which sexy outfit I want to wear.
For years my closets were bare, and what Ididhave was threadbare and one puff of wind away from disintegrating.
All of my money and shopping were saved for Violet. Keeping her dressed, warm—especially through those Minnesota winters—and fitting in at school was my goal. I didn't care if I froze to death on the street walking home from another shift at the disgusting bar I worked at for way too long.
My aunt, on the other hand, didn't give two shits about me or V. That woman hardly looked twice at me since my parents died. God, I was just a kid when my mom and dad passed away.
For a long time, before Violet came along, the only hugs I got were from the guys?—
My throat closes over with an emotionI'm well acquainted with.What did I do to push them away? Why would they do that to me?
Cursing, I throw my mascara back in its pouch because what's the fucking point if I'm just going to throw a pity party and probably cry myself to sleep like I've done so many times.
Again,what is wrong with me?!All these years later and I still get sucked into those assholes. The slightest inconvenience and I'm pondering all the ways I was unlikeable.
Honestly, I don't want to go out at this point. My room is a mess of outfits, and my skin fucking itches from all the fabrics.
Why is everything so unflattering tonight?!
In a thong and baggy T-shirt, I collapse onto my bed. "I'm not going." I snatch my phone and send that exact statement in the group chat. Bethany responds saying the same thing. Then Janine and Dakota are on our asses, deciding who's coming to me and who's going to Beth.
Apparently, they have just the thing to cheer us up. Cue my eye roll.
Vodka and a mini black dress were their bright ideas. I'm only slightly annoyed that it worked.
Just as I was about to fall asleep, Janine breezed through my bedroom door with a grin on her face. I made a note to talk to Violet about letting people into the apartment after nine at night.
That's a problem for tomorrow though because right now the drinks are flowing and the bass is thumping. Serpent's Kiss is absolutely feral tonight, and I'm so here for it.
We started at a different club, but nowhereelse provides the hype of a dance floor like our place of work. Plus, we get discounts. We'd be dumb not to whoop it up here off duty.
Since Janine started me on vodka first, I've stuck to that. While I might have a night shift tomorrow and could sleep in, that's just not my life. Violet will probably rope me into something in the morning, and I'd rather not be fucked up on a bunch of different liquors.
I'm twenty-nine, so I know how to drink the right way. Dancing, on the other hand, not so much. Grinding and jumping around is all I’ve got. Bethany is sensual as hell tonight in her silver ruffles, though. She's such a kick ass dancer, it's no wonder everyone glances twice at her.
Since I'm trying not to be a piece of shit tomorrow, I'm the most sober of the group. My job is to pay attention. So every time Beth is approached by wandering hands and lingering glances, I watch her cues. I'm hyperfocused on the scrunch of her nose and the cowering of her shoulders.
I weave and jump around her until the icky ones find their next target. While I love protecting my girls, Janine makes it a bit harder when she grinds on anything solid.
Her running rule is that we stop her if the guy or girl isn't her type. Janine's specific, so I'm always tugging her away and shaking my head. Every single time, she pouts, but once she gets a glance and sees that her dancing partner doesn't look exactly like the guy who broke her heart last year, she scowls and kisses my shoulder.
