Page 26 of Wicked Player
My stomach drops at the sound of her words. I don't want her to apply. I don't want her to meet Colton Rossi. Suddenly, I want him all to myself.
“Oh, I don't know,” I say. “What about Jimmy?”
She waves a hand. “Oh, that’s so over.”
I’m not surprised to hear it.
“And it sounds like the party was a blast,” she says.
It was. There’s nothing I can do to stop her. She’s the one who pushed me in this direction in the first place. Why shouldn’t she go too?
“Yeah, you should do it,” I finally manage. “It was a lot of fun. You should apply. I’m sure you'll be a shoo-in. Just look at you.”
“I can't wait until the next party,” she says, "when we're both there together. We’ll have so much fun.”
“Maybe… I’m not sure I want to ever go again,” I say. And I’m also not sure how I feel about her being there. She’s the kind of woman who always gets all the attention. I’m used to it, used to being the sidekick, the wingwoman. But when it comes to Colton, I’m not sure I want competition.
What in the heavens is happening to me? All of a sudden, I’m catty and competitive. This is so unlike me. I finally understand all those evil eyes gazing my way. Everyone at the party seemed to hate me when I got ‘chosen’. It all makes sense now. I would've hated me too.
I think about Colton. I’m sure all this meant nothing to him. I realize that now. I was just the chosen one for that night, the flavor of the month, and he didn't even get lucky. He's probably thinking that it was a bust, that he’ll have to pick better next time. Yes, he throws these parties once a month or so I'm told. I'm not going to another one. Once was enough. Cassie will be going to the next one perhaps, but not me. She’s already on her phone happily typing away.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“The first step in applying is filling out this online form,” she explains. “You don't know about it because I did that part for you last time.”
“Oh… I see.”
“If you make it through the first part, the second part of the process is the interview.”
I stare at Molly Ringwald's face on the television. She's so pretty. I love her hair. I wonder if Colton would like her. I’m sure he would. He seems to like them all. And that's the problem.
I study Cassie as she types furiously. She is flawless, blonde and delicate. I'm sure she'll make it. I’m positive she'll go to the party, and I'll have to hear all about it. I'll be jealous of course, but also kind of happy for her because she's my bestie. But what if she gets to be the chosen one. That will cut a little. God, please make that not happen.
“Do you want some more popcorn?" I ask.
“Sure… yeah, you know me.”
I stand to go make the popcorn and shake my head, shake the thoughts away. I don't need to be thinking about him tonight. This is my fun night with my bestie. I’m not gonna let him spoil this. I don't even mean anything to him. Enough about him. I’m done. No more thinking of him.
* * *
It's just a typical Thursday afternoon, and I’m at the park with Christian, watching him play when I hear that familiar ping on my phone. I fish it from my purse.
My breath hitches. The email title line reads:
I want to see you again.
My eyes devour that email like a starved man eating a Big Mac.
Hello, Clara,
I've been wanting to send you this message for days, but I held myself back. I didn’t want to appear too eager. I want to see you again. Actually, let me rephrase that… I NEED to see you again. There’s so much we didn't get to do. I want to play you a song on the piano, or perhaps on the guitar. I’d also love to play a game with you. We didn't get to play much, and you know I'm known for games. Perhaps a game of strip blackjack. ;)
I would love to see you again,
Cheers,
Colton
