“Let’s dance!” one of the girls suggests.
I don’t really feel like dancing but I’m hardly going to sit at the table by myself.
And I refuse to wallow in self-pity.
Like Sadie said, Dallas and I had some fun.More fun than I’ve ever had.There are plenty more fish in the sea.Not that big of a fish, I think we can all agree on that.It’s true that hewasoverly controlling.Maybe because he cared about you—which you’re not used to, let’s face it, which turned out to be yet another ruse. What is it with me? Do I have a sign taped to my forehead that says LIE TO ME?And yes, I definitely cashed in my V-card with style and gusto.A littletoomuch style andwaytoo much gusto. And now you could be in very deep trouble.
I stay between Sadie and the edge of the dance floor in our little circle. The others are much more into it than I am but I do my best to enjoy myself.
I miss him so much.
How could he have bought my hotel and nottoldme that? All those opportunities to come clean, and never once did he even give a clue that he’s basically my nemesis.
Someone grabs my arm, hard, and I flinch.
I turn to see a man. He’s smiling but it comes across as more of a sneer. He has dirty-blond hair and he’s wearing a sleeveless black t-shirt. He has a few badly-drawn tattoos and they’re oily with sweat.
I pull away from him but he grabs me around the waist, leaning close to my ear. “Dance with me. You’re fucking hot.” He smells like stale beer. My stomach turns as I try to pull away from him. My head is spinning.
But the man is insistent. “Come on, girl,” he slurs in my ear. “Come closer. I could get you off right here on the dance floor. You know you want it.”
“Get your hands off me,” I yell, because it’s the only way he’ll hear me.
I don’t know if he does hear me. Either way, he ignores it. He grabs my ass and pulls me up against his body—the hardness there makes me jerk away from him. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
When he squeezes harder, I slap his face.
I think I’m as shocked as he is. I’ve never slapped anyone in my life.
“Bitch,” he hisses. He shoves me, hard.
I fall backwards and make impact with a few people behind me. Then I feel a hard, blunt pain at the back of my head.
The blackness starts at the periphery, rushing in to consume everything.
But before it does, one thought crosses my mind.
So this must be what it feels like to die before you even hit the floor.
42
I hear voices.Music. Yelling.
Am I dead?
Is this Mardi Gras?
My eyes blink open and I see Sadie’s worried face, which is spinning around, refusing to stay in place. “Amelie. Amelie. Wake up.”
I want to go home.
It’s the deep longing that triggers my memory. All of it comes flooding back to me.
I’m in New York. I left him. I have no home.
My eyes close again and I feel the warm line of a tear.
I wish my daddy had been a better man. I wish he hadn’t been so sad and so far gone.
