Page 14 of Grayson

And though the pain isn’t completely over by the time we leave, I do know that each of us feels a little less weighed down.

However choir practice was inevitable, it always is when we lose someone. Drinking away our sorrows, drowning out the pain.

10

Skye Simmons

“I don’t know about this,” I say, tugging on my skirt. A skirt I’d never wear if chosen on my own. But two hours ago, Vivian showed up at my place with a bag and a smile after I’d made the mistake of telling her Tori was staying at a friend’s for the evening.

Yep a night to myself, where I’d planned to have a hot bath, a glass of wine, and maybe read a good book was quickly shot down.

“We’re going out!” she announced, there was no question in her words. She’d already made up her mind and when that happens there isn’t anything to stop her.

Vivian and I had become great friends fast but the one thing I knew very well from the start was she doesn’t take no for an answer. I’m not sure she even knows the word.

“Will you stop tugging on that?” Swatting my hand like I’m a child she offers a humph and keeps walking toward the lit up sign above an entrance.

Ruby’s.

“You look amazing,” she states, pausing just outside. “I’d kill for those legs, and your ass is perfect. That skirt only complements your figure. You look like a walking hot sex ad. Will you stop tugging on your clothes and get inside.” She says it all so fast it’s almost like she’d been rehearsing it and all I can do is stare at her.

“What?” she asks, throwing her hands up in the air.

Someone exits the bar and the music from inside filters out.

“Have you never gone to a bar before?” I narrow my eyes at her and she laughs.

“Yes, for your information I have gone to a bar. I’m not a nun.”

“Are you sure?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an asshole?” Even if I’d wanted my words to sound harsh a smile couldn’t hide the humor I was feeling.

“Fine,” I say, lowering my voice as I step in closer to her. “It’s been a while,” I admit.

“A while?” Vivian pushes a little more. “Six months? A year?”

“Three and a half.” I shrug.

“Wait.” I can almost picture the wheels turning in her mind. “You’re twenty-two.”

“Yep.” I nod, looking behind me as the door to the bar opens again.

“So that would mean you were what,” Viv pauses counting with her fingers out in front of us.

“Nineteen,” I answer for her and her eyes widen.

“Oh my, Skye.” She giggles when she rhymes her words unintentionally. “It would seem you do have a rebellious side.”

I shrug.

“So what happened?”

Suddenly I am feeling very vulnerable and if it was anyone other than Vivian I’d shy away and catch the first cab out of here. But she was, is, the only true friend I have.

“My parents died.” Her expression instantly softens. “One night I was a nineteen-year-old college student, enjoying my first taste of freedom after moving into a dorm. I was doing things outside of my comfort zone, I was truly getting a sense of myself and not caring about the next day. I was living in the moment, laughing and flirting.”

I nibble on my lip, trying not to allow my emotions or the memories of the night that changed everything resurface.

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