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I'm tempted to shake her off, but she weighs less than me, and I might send her flying across the room.
"You have friends," I point out. "Why don't you ask one of them to go to the club?"
She pouts. "But I want you to go, I miss you."
I give her the side-eye.
"You know what I mean,” she adds, letting go of my arm. "They are not my friends, per se. Just fellow artists, and they will end up drinking and leaving me alone. You've always been the one with the motherly tendencies, so you'll keep an eye on me, and make sure I behave."
I shake my head.
"You want a chauffeur. I can't," I exhale, "believe you came all this way to ask me to be your chauffeur. What if I want to drink? What if I want to party? Did you think about that?"
Mira looks at me like I've sprouted horns.
"You want to drink?" she says. "Harper, you don't drink, only on special occasions. If you're not drinking one of those healthy concoctions, it’s water. And I have never seen you party, not in a long time. You never really had much of a social life.”
Do you have a social life, or were you the weird kid in school that no one wanted to talk to?
Gabriel's mocking words ring loud in my head.
"What do you mean?" I thrust my hands on my hips, standing up and taking a defensive stance. "I have a social life. It's not all about going to clubs, you know. You can meet a stranger while walking your dog and invite them in for coffee."
Mira shakes her head. "That is exactly what someone with no social life would say. You have never invited a stranger into your house, despite the many social events that your parents dragged you to. Isn't that how we met? I saw you sitting alone, and I was determined to help you have a good time."
It is precisely how we met.
My parents—my mom, an attorney, and my dad, running an e-commerce chain, couldn't understand why their only child could not make friends. So, they dragged me to every event they were invited to against my will.
The perpetual scowl on my face was enough to drive anyone away. Until Mira came along. No matter how much I ignored her, she wouldn't give up. I had no choice but to talk to her. That's how we became friends.
"Please?" she pulls my arm again. "I'll get you whatever you want."
"I—"
"You don't want anything, I know," she cuts in. "But I'll only be in the city until the art exhibition ends, and then you won't see me again for a while. It's been nearly a year since I last saw you and you don't want to spend time with me?"
The only reason someone would sit next to you was if they couldn’t find another empty seat.
I hear his grating voice in my head.
You're mistaken, Gabriel. I might not have had that many friends in school, but it was a deliberate decision.
"Alright," I heave. “I will go with you, but not as your chauffeur. I think it's time I came out of my shell.”
"Oh?" Mira sounds unsure, and I laugh, waving my hand.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to get drunk. I'll let loose a bit, that's all. I think it’s time."
She takes my hands, and we do a little dance around my living room, although I get dragged around for most of it.
"I'll dance with you, okay?"
"Okay."
***
I lose Mira five minutes after we walk into the club. First, it was the issue with the bouncer who wouldn't let us in because Mira didn't inform me about needing a pass.
