Page 20 of Play On

Relief fills me. I mean, not that the odds were good I was kidnapped without me knowing it, but I always have that moment of panic when my brain is trying to place myself when coming out of a deep, long, and unexpected sleep.

Now that I’m in the right place, I remember I took a nap. Something tells me I’ve been asleep forhours.

I get up, turn on the lamp on the side table, and then go to retrieve my phone from my bag, which is still in the hallway on the console table.

Eight o’clock? I’ve been out forfour hours?

I must have been exhausted.

I unlock my phone and see I have several messages. Mum is asking if I’m still alive and if I made it to London okay. Oops. Forgot to text her when I arrived. I quickly answer that with a “NO I AM NOT DEAD” text and tell her I’m safely tucked away in our house in Kensington. There’s one from Bella, confirming what time I’m to arrive at St. James’s Palace for our dinner tomorrow and if I like tacos. I text her back that I will be there, and tacos are perfect. I scroll through the rest, and though I know it’s stupid, my heart catches when I see there’s no text from Noah.

Not that there should be, of course. But I did say we could be friends. And I guess a part of me—once I realised what a colossal mistake I made—hoped he’d reach out and open the door for me again.

You don’t deserve that, Violet,I remind myself.He should stay clear of you, and you should want that for him, after what you did.

Even if I did it to protect him and me.

One message does surprise me, though. It’s an old friend from St. Andrews, an Aussie named Aimee. We met during Freshers week and were so close. IadoredAimee. She made me laugh. She never tired of me talking nonstop. We shared so many good times going out in Scotland. Drinking pints in pubs. Flirting with boys at parties. Going shopping together and sharing dinners …

But then graduation happened. Aimee ended up getting a job in London, and I stayed at St. Andrews to get my master’s degree before heading home to Dorset. Our messages, over time, became less frequent and then non-existent. Due to nobody’s fault, the friendship kind of died out.

I think on this for a moment. How does that happen? When you are friends so close, you are texting and messaging all the time, and then it kind of trails off to just liking their posts here and there on Connectivity?

Does this happen so someone else—like Bella—can come into my life? Or does this door open and close based on fate?

I grin. Oh, I have BIG thoughts this evening.

I tap open her message, wondering what it is:

Vi. I know this is kind of out of the blue, but I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately and our friendship. I regret so much that I lost track of you. There’s no excuse. But I miss you. I was thinking back to our times at uni and when I would visit Dorset—remember the huge crush I had on Nicholas???!!!??? OMG. So embarrassing, I was a fool around him. Hopefully he has no memory of that. Anyway, I know you occasionally make trips to London, and I would love to go out and get a drink with you if you would like to catch up. If not, I completely understand. XO, Aimee

Aimee has opened the door to see if we can be friends again.

I eagerly text her back:

Aimes, I am so happy to get this text. I miss you, too. And I would love nothing more than to catch up with you. Your text couldn’t have come at a better time because I’m in London RIGHT NOW. I arrived this afternoon, and I’m in Kensington. I know this is last minute, but would you want to meet me for a drink tonight? I know you always loved Wisteria House—maybe start at the bar and end up at the rooftop restaurant?

I hit send.

Aimee is typing …

I wait with anticipation. Aimee loved going to Wisteria House with me and Nicholas after we first graduated, and it seems like a great place to see if our friendship can pick off where it left off.

OMG are you serious? I would LOVE that!

I ask if she could meet me there at nine-thirty, if that’s not too late for her.

My stomach unleashes a hideous growl that makes me laugh out loud.

As well as give me some time to eat, I think.

Another message from Aimee drops in:

I will be there! I’m so excited to see you, Vi!

I text back that I feel the same way. I grab my luggage from the hallway and dash upstairs to my bedroom so I can rifle through it for an outfit. I decide on a cute little summery minidress and strappy heels. I go to the bathroom and turn on the light. Then I gasp when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror over the sink.

I LOOK LIKE A ZOMBIE.

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