Page 181 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
My knees click as I stand, brushing down my satin dress that’s creased so easily since I sat on the floor. My bum catches on one of my prized possessions, knocking it to the ground. Bubbles doesn’t react as the magic eight ball rolls past her nose. I pick it up and shake it, the same question I’ve been asking myself for the last hour running through my head.
Should I go tonight?
Shane texted me last night and invited me to some last-minute plans to celebrate his dad’s birthday. Initially, I’d said no, looking forward to a night in with Bubbles and her bad haircut that she looks so adorable with. However, that idea was thwarted by a series of text messages that begged and pleaded for my attendance. The promise of sitting away from his mother sealed the deal, and after an hour, I agreed.
I’ll be fine,I tell myself, waiting for the answer to float to the surface of the blue liquid in the ball.
His parents aren’t the only reason I don’t want to attend. Shane is part of it, too.
I don’t fully trust him yet.
Although history has proven he won’t get angry in front of people. He’s always been calmer in crowds. And yet, my gut twists with suspicion. My hand rubbing in a circular motion fails to rid me of the feeling.
The ball agrees it’s a bad idea, but it’s too late to back out because my ride is here, honking out front and insisting I stop wasting time.
“You can do this,” I try to convince myself.
The taxi Shane requested to pick me up honks again. Sitting in it to meet up with people I know shouldn’t be a scary idea.Shouldn’t be...
And yet, I hesitate before leaving.
Swallowing my nerves, I trade the ball for my purse and finally move to the door when the car honks for a third time.
“Supper is down in the kitchen for you, Bubs!” I call back, hating that I’m leaving her because she’s home alone tonight.
Ambrose left around an hour ago, going wherever it is he goes.
Locking the door securely, a feeling of dread swamps me as I stare back at the house from the open car door. The reminders ofwhat happened last time stare back at me. The word SLUT still stands out proudly.
Next time, Bubbles could be hurt.
It would break me.
Blinking away the grim thought and Shane’s efforts to make this place look better, but resulting in it looking worse, I get in the car. A female driver had been requested, and she greets me from up front with a friendly smile that showcase big teeth.
“Butterflies, yes?”
“That’s right,” I confirm the venue that’s in Shane’s messages, and I fidget with the hem of my dress. “Do I need an address?”
“No. I know the place. And I’m sorry for all the honking. It’s a big house. I wasn’t sure you’d hear.”
“I did. I just wasn’t sure I felt like coming.”
“Oh, first date?” the lady asks, reversing down the hill and spraying mud along the edges.
“No, but I do have the jitters that would make you think that. I’m meeting someone, and we’re sorta in an in-between stage where I thought it was over, and now it might not be. It’s his dad’s birthday, and my kinda-ex would like a plus one. I guess I should be excited that he asked me, seeing as his parents aren’t my biggest fans.”
There’s a chance I’ve said too much, it happens, but the awkward feeling passes when my driver opens her mouth and talks again.
“Oh, they’re the meddling kind, huh?”
“They’re something.”
We continue the rest of the way in silence. Our only interruption is the growl of my stomach, still screaming with my nerves, and the rumbling of the car engine when my driver and her heavy feet tap the gas a little too hard.
“Do you need me to wait until you meet your sorta ex-boyfriend? This place isn’t the most—well, you’ll see when you get inside,” she explains, pulling up and braking just as hard on the gravel.
“No, I’ll be fine.” My smile is hopeful as I hand her the fee for the ride, which took longer than expected thanks to heavy traffic.
