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Kristen's family might have been rich— new rich, even— but she didn't seem to think that made her better than anyone else. I was part of the reason we were able to get along in high school.
I was honestly confused as to why she hadn't been more popular than she had been. She had everything Logan and I had and actually more. Yet she always seemed to stick to the same few friends.
As far as I knew, this had been a trend that had continued as she got older, but something happened after she and I started growing distant; she started getting a lot more friends. Though going by sight, most of the people at the party were closer to Kristen in terms of social class.
Ruling out nearly half the room, I was about to give up when I saw the hippie girl from the elevator. She was sitting cross legged at one end of the leather couch, sipping what smelled like peppermint tea from a mug.
"Hey," I said, sitting on the edge of the couch.
"Hellooo," she said, actually stretching the o out like that.
I honestly wondered if she was high.
"So how do you know Kristen?" I asked.
"Oh, she comes into the store at least twice a week."
"What kind of store?" I asked, wondering what she would be selling that Kristen would want to buy.
"Health food. She's really into the pastels."
"Like, the colors?" I asked.
"Nooo, they're the little chew guys. Made up of the best Mother Nature has to offer in terms of calming compounds. They taste like black currents."
"Like, drugs?" I asked, surprised, not having known Kristen to do anything harder than wine.
"I guess, though not the dangerous type. The worst that might happen is you get a sore tummy," she said, patting her own belly by way of demonstration.
"Oh, cool,” I said, still a bit confused.
"What do you do?" she asked, before taking another sip of her tea.
"Well, I did work as receptionist at a spa, but I recently went back to school."
"Good for you! What are you studying?"
"Massage therapy," I said.
"That's great! We need more people like you. Touch gets such a bad stigma in society but we all need it. It doesn't need to be a sex thing. Most of it really isn't if you think about it. It gets made that way by other people's interpretations."
She really was smarter than I had given her credit for. I felt like a bit of a jerk for thinking she was just a stoner. What she said about touch was absolutely true and one of the first things they went over in my training course. Massage therapy really did have a weird reputation in Western culture.
"Exactly," I said, thinking I'd found a kindred spirit, "I'm going to go back to the spa and work as a masseuse when I'm done."
"Oh, that's awful!" the hippie girl cried like she'd just gotten a mouthful of raw salmon oil.
"What?" I asked confused.
"Massages should be free. It is terrible that you would let anyone capitalize on your healing hands."
"I-"
She put her mug on the coffee table and took me by both hands looking at me earnestly, her green eyes burning with passion and truth.
"You will have the gift of healing! Don't sell it out to the corporate wolves. Cherish it! Give it to those in need!"
"I-I'm going to go get a drink," I said.
"Okay," she said brightly, picking up her mug again.
The worst thing about what the Hippie Girl said, the thing that really hit me in the heart, was that she wasn't entirely wrong. Of course I wanted to get paid for my work. That was just logical.
But I didn't want to exploit people for it. People who really needed help. If Medicaid covered massage therapy in any significant way, I probably would have felt differently, but most people had to pay out of pocket. Even the ones who were really messed up and needed it badly.
I wondered what I could do about this situation. The best I could figure out was that maybe if I got in there and established myself, I could convince David to do a coupon day or something. Not that that would do much good.
I went to the drinks table and took a glass of red. Taking the first couple of sips, I went to find a corner to hide in. Through some quirk of fate, no matter where we went to avoid each other, I was pretty sure Logan was doing the same thing.
We always managed to be in each other's line of sight. At least since Kristen had come home. I wasn't sure where to go that this wouldn't happen, other than going and hiding in the closet that the DJ had vacated. That would have raised some questions.
As much as I didn't want to see him and still hated him for what he had done, destroying my heart like he had, my body had a different reaction. A warmth touched my cheeks and a tight ache came to my pussy every time our eyes met.
