Enemy Dearest
I toss a used paper towel in the trash. “Yeah, but that’s not really my thing.”
“Which is exactly why you should go.”
“Feel free to go without me. Seriously. Go and have a good time. You can tell me all about it at work next weekend.”
Lifting a hand to her hip, she exhales. “Okay, fine. I know it’s not your scene, but will you at least go for me? This is literally a once-in-a-lifetime invite, and I want to have the time of my life. I want to get stupid wasted. And if I don’t know anyone … I need a safety buddy. Or something.”
“A safety buddy?” I laugh.
“Just, someone to make sure no one slips me a roofie or whatever. Just follow me around like a shadow and make sure I don’t do anything I’m going to regret the next day.”
“No offense, but that sounds like a terrible time to me.”
“Okay, then just go with me, and we’ll grab a couple drinks, sit by the pool, and stare at all the hot people doing stupid shit.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Just to be able to say we’ve been there, even if it’s for an hour, would be amazing. It’s literally on my bucket list.”
“No it’s not.”
“It is now.”
I chuckle, shaking my head and returning the Windex to the cabinet beneath the register. “Can I think about it?”
“No because I know you, and this is your way of buying time and hoping I drop it or forget about it or let it go,” she speaks so fast I can hardly keep up. “But that’s not going to happen.”
“What about your friend … what’s her name? Molly? Can she go with you?”
“Molly’s in Indiana this week visiting her grandma or some shit like that. And before you bring up anyone else, Christa’s working Friday night, Harper’s going to be with her boyfriend like she is every second of every freaking day, and Lydia and I are no longer on speaking terms as of last Thursday. Sorry, chica, but you’re my only option.”
“Adriana.” I tuck my chin. “Please don’t put this on me.”
She clasps her hands. “I will get on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes. I’ll take any weekend shift you want. I’ll pay you. I will give you my next paycheck in full.”
“I don’t want your money. And I need my shifts.”
“Then what’s the issue? Are you worried about what you’re going to wear? Just come to my place and we’ll get ready together. We can walk there, and I’ll have my sister pick us up when she gets off work.”
“Your sister who bartends?”
“Yeah.”
I lift a brow. “Doesn’t she work until three AM?”
“Fine. I’ll see if my cousin can come get us. And if she can’t, I’ll get us an Uber. Is that better? Then we can leave any time you want.”
“Adriana …”
She places her hands on my arms and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Please, Sher. Please. One hour of your life, that’s all I ask for. I’ll never ask you for anything else so long as I live. Promise.”
The front door swings open, bells jingling, and a boisterous family of four barges in, ending our conversation.
“Please?” she mouths to me as she walks toward the customers.
She won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. At the end of the day, I’m fighting a battle I won’t win. As soon as we close up shop today, she’ll start blowing up my phone. She’s a little bit psychotic at times, but I also kind of love her. In the short time we’ve worked together, she’s become one of my closest friends.
Maybe one hour wouldn’t kill me …
Lord knows she’d do anything for me.
I leave for college in six weeks. I’ve spent the last eighteen years trapped in the rusted cage my parents built for me the second I came into this world. If last night taught me anything, it’s that freedom has a strange kick to it. Kind of like stepping into a foreign land for the first time. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.
My stomach furls at the thought of lying to my parents, but they can’t keep me trapped inside their protective bubble forever.
Besides, I’m a responsible adult.
I can handle myself at a party.
Sucking in a long breath, I hold it. And then I let it go before settling on my decision. As soon as Adriana’s finished, I’ll share the good news … if one can call it that.
It’s one hour of one night of my life—what could possibly go wrong?
Chapter Four
Sheridan
* * *
Adriana has a power grip on my wrist as she leads me through a maze of beautiful people, people who clearly aren’t from Meredith Hills because no one I’ve ever seen looks like this.
Outfits strategized to reveal taut, ripped bodies.