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   Chapter 7 Nightmares and Sunset Rum

I Like Your Shoes By Sivani Yasashree Characters: 5677

Updated: 2018-11-03 05:57

[Ambrosia Bellemore]

We sit awkwardly in silence until I can't take it anymore.

"So, what are you doing these days?"

His eyes, completely focused on the laptop screen in front of him, glance at me for a second and then turn back.

"Designing." He says, his voice clipped, yet polite.

I nod in deep thought. Benjamin, during our High School years together, always talked about being a soccer player. High School dreams are just stupid wishes, I guess.

"You're going to New York too, huh?"

He gives me a sly glance, again. I fidget.

That was an awful attempt at being nonchalant.

"Yes." He says.



I sigh. It's going to be a long flight.


[Calum Achorn]

The woman thought me to be someone else, and so I found it in my best interest to make as less conversation with her as I could.

She was persistent, though.

"Remember senior year?" She began and I give a small sigh. "Remember the mud pie we fed George?"

"How can I ever forget that." I mumble. I was trying to concentrate on my work, but I wasn't even past the first line of my draft.

"Yeah." She says, waiting for my response. She gives up soon, though and puts on her headphones with an exasperated huff.

I settle down comfortably and try to concentrate, but she yanks her headphones off seconds later.

"Do you remember when..?"

I sigh. It's going to be a long flight.

[Ambrosia Bellemore]

A movie, a few furtive glances, and several exasperated sighs later, I finally had had enough. Again.

"Ben?" I start.

"Benjamin, just Benjamin."

"Okay. Benjamin Earlswood?" I retort.


"Why the heck were you a jerk to me in High School?" I ask, surpr

e did look vulnerable.

A little pat in the head, maybe?

My hand inched towards her of it's own accord. I watch it cover the space that separated us, my mouth hanging open as a large part of me tried to force it back. But it didn't stop. I watched in horror as my fingers made contact with her soft, blonde hair. Their texture was something I could compare to cotton candy. Soft, wispy.

I give her two soft, quick pats over the head.

When she woke up a few minutes later, I was still staring at my hand. I noticed her, from the corner of my eye, peeking at me and then wiping away her tears. I didn't react, and tried to maintain my poker face. She must not know about my lapse of control.

"Ah, booze." She moans. I glance at her. She was looking at the bottle of alcohol with stars in her eyes. I see her reaching for the bottle.

"I wouldn't do that..." I warn her.

But she already had the bottle in her hands, and with an angelic smile, took a huge swig from the very, very strong drink. I stare at her, dumbstruck.

I had a premonition the next hour was going to be eventful.

Understatement of the year.

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