She cocks her head. “Antoinette?” She turns and walks toward me. “I know you’ve been hearing all kinds of negative stuff about Axel and the Disciples in general.”
She motions for me to follow her to the window. “Some of it is true, some is exaggerated. But… be careful with Axel. And by careful, I mean guard your heart. He’s… Axel.”
Her words ring in the empty hallway and I bite my lower lip because hearing it from Charlie makes it seem real. And in an instant, my beautiful, happy day is gone, all that happened last night a distant memory. Only because I know she’s right and she cares about me.
She rubs my arm. “I hate having to say that, but I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.” I smile, but it’s tight.
“Oh, Antoinette,” she whispers as her golden eyes scan my face. “You’re already in love with him.”
It’s not a question and she doesn’t give me time to answer.
But am I?
Have I somehow fallen in love with him? There’s no way. He’s exciting, and he makes me feel secure—that’s all. But I’m not delusional enough to fall for him. Right?
Charlie cocks her head. “So, here’s the truth about David and me. I fell in love with David the first time I saw him. I was ten. He came in with his dad and some old-timers to my parents’ diner. He was older, but I didn’t care. I knew he was the one.” She smiles.
“We’ve had a lot of tragedies, setbacks, and pain. But at the end of the day, he loves me as much as I love him. He’s my best friend.”
“That’s so romantic,” I whisper.
“Yeah, sometimes it was. Other times it was ugly and painful, and honestly… I was scared he wouldn’t make it. But I believed. Sometimes it felt like that’s what kept us going.”
She nods and moves toward the stairs. “Keep doing what you’re doing. And yes, you definitely need to wear a bikini.”
“Charlie?” She looks up. “I’m not… in love with him. I can’t be.”
She smiles. “Okay. Still wear the skimpiest bikini you have.”
Clearly she doesn’t believe me. Not that I blame her. It came out rather weak. But I’m not. I know it, and that’s all that matters. What I feel for Axel has to be a passing infatuation. He’s beautiful and smells good. That’s it.
But I want to cry or kick something because that’s not it. He’s smart, and he makes me feel secure and special and…
“Oh God. Am I? I might be falling in love with him,” I whisper as I walk back into the room and almost gag at the smell of vomit.
Cindy is hugging the toilet seat.
“You okay?” I have to put my nose in my hair and breathe in its fresh scent rather than her puke.
“Oh God, I hate them.” She props a shaky hand on the toilet bowl and rests her forehead on it.
“Can I get you some water?”
“This is what they do to you, Antoinette.” She turns and starts throwing up again.
“Oh, Cindy.” I cringe because if she’s this bad already, jeez, the party hasn’t even started. “Um, I’m going to get my bathing suit on. You get it all out.” She heaves again. “That’s it, get it all out.” I sound like a lunatic talking to a baby or a puppy.
“Stop… please.” She holds up a hand.
“Sorry. Call me if you need me.”
Without giving her time to respond again, I go straight to Axel’s closet and try to remember which bag I put it in. It’s new and never worn since I never got around to going to the ocean or a pool.
I pull out my underwear and sock garbage bag and dump it on the floor, and there it is. It’s black with tiny silver stars on it.
Slipping off my dress and panties, I pull on the bottoms, which have a slight G-string in the back. Not full but a nice cut. I tie the top and try to push my boobs out as much as possible.
Whatever, at least they don’t sag. They’re full and I have good nipples. I’m pale, but maybe a little sun today will help.
I shut the door so I can look at myself in the full-length mirror. I look good. The makeup definitely helps. Now for some shoes. I wish I had some cute heeled sandals like Charlie and Cindy, but I don’t, so my flip-flops will have to do.
“Antoinette?” Doug’s voice, followed by his loud pounding, makes me jump. I rush over to open the door.
“Thank God.” He leans on the doorframe, wearing black sunglasses and dressed in ripped black jeans and a black T-shirt.
“Look at you. Our own little Marilyn Monroe, minus the curves.” He barges in and circles me. “You, my little princess, are breathtaking.”