AllFreeNovel
Share Us
So why not be herself?
Stick it to these stuck ups. Fight the power, whatever reason she can think up.
“—picked out an apartment in the Upper East Side. On Madison, only two blocks from Central Park.” Again with his side-glances at Billie, as though that piece of information is for her, or that the decision on the location was made for her.
But Billie sinks further into herself at the talk of her moving to the city. Something that’s never going to happen.
And Preston’s voice continues, a smooth, deep sound turning into the sound of white noise.
Billie does all she can to stop from scoffing at him, at his hopes of the city together, at his assumptions of her being a part of his future.
It’s been made clear that Preston and Billie aren’t meant to be together, not in the eyes of anyone here—not even in the eyes of their friends.
Kate and Trevor talk about a future together. But not like this. Not so detailed, not so planned.
It’s all Preston talks about. His plans for her, them, the city, his career as a lawyer, later turned judge once he’s ‘paid his dues’.
It was never supposed to go this far.
As kids they made daisy chains together in the fields, then his private boarding schools pushed them apart, then break ups over the phone, a lot of fights and just as many fucks.
She’s swapping out for a third consecutive drink when Preston stops her. Her hand places down the empty glass on a silver platter carried by the same waiter who’s been sticking nearby. But her other reaches for a fresh drink, and Preston takes her wrist gently.
He doesn’t say it.
‘You’ve had enough.’
But his grip on her wrist screams it.
Billie turns her hooded eyes on him. He’s right. Her vision’s all cloudy now, her lashes hanging heavy, but fuck him.
‘Fuck you.’– the message screams loud and clear from her livid look in her eyes.
Shame is quick to fire up her face.
All too aware of the murmurs from Bunny and Redhead, and that fucking scoffed laugh from I-Want-To-Fuck-The-Waiter Brunette. All too aware of Preston embarrassing the life out of her, making a scene however small.
She belongs with the waiters. The servers. Not the served.
Dropping her hands to her sides, she lets a dark smile steal her lips. Turning her cloudy gaze from Preston to Bunny & co., that smile breaks into the falsest of grins to ever be seen within these walls.
“It was nice to meet you,” Billie slurs slightly. “But the booze was nicer.”
With that, she shoves right through the wall of three. Her feet struggle to keep up as she pushes past Bunny, near staggering her way through the knitted throngs of wasps.
Preston is hot on her heels. She can smell him, feel him behind her.
He keeps pace as she shoves and staggers out of the crowd, to the staircase that curves up along the wall to the second level.
Preston follows her in silence all the way to his bedroom on the third floor.
Behind her, Preston slams the door shut.
Billie made it to the bedroom first, and by the time the wall rattles with the force of the door slam, she’s already grabbed her overnight bag and thrown it onto the bed.
“I can’t believe you did that.” Her voice is something of a whine, but steeled as though she tries to fight sobs that ache to break free. “Everyone saw that, Preston.You embarrassed me.”
“You embarrassed yourself,” he says evenly. “Bambi.”
