Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“Obviously.” I concur.
“Meet me at Vibe in an hour. Your name will be on the list.” He hangs up without saying goodbye.
Vibe.
I’ve heard of it. It’s one of those big clubs that Jess and I hate. All the celebrities go there. Not that I would truly know but I see their photos in my inbox on most Monday mornings.
I know Asher Montgomery can’t just show up at some little bar in Soho and remain unnoticed.
Oh god. This is happening.
I quickly Google the address before returning to Jess. I guess it’s time to let her in on my little secret.
I wait for her to say goodbye to her friend before pulling her aside.
There's no easy way to say it so I just start blurting things out.
“Hey, so we need to leave. We’re on the guest list at this club called Vibe.”
She thinks I'm kidding.
Until she sees I'm not.
“We haven’t been to a club since college. Don't you hate them? I’m pretty sure I do.”
I roll my eyes, but her semi-drunk state allows me to easily drag her outside.
The summer air is stifling and heavy. I take a deep breath. I’m not sure how to begin so I just come out and say it.
“We’re going to meet up with Asher Montgomery."
“What?” she shakes her head. “You’re lying.” She sees my face and in the span of two seconds can tell that I'm not. Then she screams.
It’s a loud shrill and I quickly pull her closer to the building because she’s attracting attention.
“Is this something special you got through the magazine? Tell me everything! Should we run and buy new outfits? Do I look okay?” she's going a mile a minute.
She always gets like this under exciting circumstances, but this time it annoys me.
I feel possessive of Asher.
I cross my arms and tune her out, watching her obnoxious gestures as she takes up the sidewalk, and how people stare as they pass by.
“Why are you not answering any of my questions? This is huge, Elle!”
I’m grinding my teeth all while attempting to shush her.
“I’m going to tell you something that you can’t tell anyone.”
“Who else knows? Does Travis? Your Mom?”
This is always her first question. She needs to know how big my news is, and that’s based on whom I’ve told.
“No one.”
She's satisfied.
“Okay, spill.”
I let out a huge sigh.
“So Asher Montgomery and I sort of became friends in Barbados. I know it’s super weird. Truthfully I don’t fully get it either.”
She says nothing.
I can't read her face or tell if she’s mad or curious, or worse, both.
I wait, and stare, and wait, and when her eyes finally light up I see that she's curious.
“I knew there was something you weren’t telling me! Did you guys hook up?”
“No. It’s not like that.” I hold up my hand to hail a cab, masking my own disappointment.
“Did he remember you from outside The Sound Of Music or something? Remember that moment you guys had?”
Of course I do. I put my hand down when the light turns red.
"I-"
“I mean there’s no way right?” she laughs.
“So here’s the thing about that,” I hesitate. “He doesn’t exactly know about how big of a fan I am - was - am - whatever, so just don’t make a point to bring it up, okay?”
Judging by her face I can tell she doesn’t understand.
“Geez,” she dramatically sighs, and I hate how she studies my face. “You mean to tell me he doesn’t know you have his picture plastered all over your childhood bedroom?”
She starts laughing.
Loudly.
“Jess…” I plead, but it’s no use. She’s absolutely hysterical.
“Or... or..." she tries to catch her breath. "Or that we waited outside for SIX HOURS in the FREEZING COLD, just to meet him outside that theater?”
“Jess…”
The light turns green and I try for a cab again.
"It’s not a real friendship." She's being smug. I can hear it in her voice.
“What?" I snap back around. "What’s that supposed to mean?” I don’t know if she’s jealous or has a point.
“He probably thinks he’s hanging out with someone who barely knows who he is, not some super fan. Did you pretend to like the same things as him? We both know you’ve never seen an episode of Doctor Who in your life,” her tone is accusing. “You’ll get caught in this and it will bite you in the ass. Mark my words.”
“I was honest with him and he was honest with me,” I defend. “I never lied to him about not being a fan… he knows I knew who he was before we met.” I pause, and she gives me a look.
"It's a little more than knowing who he is though."
“Maybe, but I’d like to keep it that way and I'm asking for your help. Knowing the details will freak him out.” I hate how I beg. I want to explain all about our amazing day. I want her to understand. I wish I could divulge all about our secret envelopes, how I knew he’s been writing, and all about the real story behind the Let’s Go breakup. But I can’t. They’re not my secrets to share.