with him anymore." Liv says slowly, as if I’m about to bail and jump over the railing into the fast running river.
"Um… uh... yeah... I mean-"
"You gotta move on some time boo two." Trina points out and makes it sound like it makes perfect sense. My mind
’
s not accepting that though.
"Isn’t it a bit soon?" I hope they agree.
"You’ve been broken up like six months. Time to move on."
A strangled, high-pitched sound escapes from my throat.
"Or not." Liv jumps in. "It’s completely up to you."
"OW!" Trina yelps. "Why'd you kick me?" She scowls at Liv.
"I need to go to the bathroom." I stand up and quickly dodge the table behind me when I spin around. My hips still hurt from banging them into every table at Annabelle’s.
I swerve through the tables littering the floor, all pushed together and yank the door open to the inside of the restaurant. The low lighting gives it a romantic feel that just seems like pure torture to me at this moment. The red carpet is thick and the heel
s
of my forest green patent pump
s
sink s in. I again navigate round the oak circular tables, chandeliers hanging above every one with lit candles rather than lightbulbs. I guess that’s where it gets the romantic feel
is
from.
I practically throw myself through the dark wood swinging door that leads to both the men and women’s bathrooms. I have no idea what the men’s bathroom looks like obviously, but the women’s is a picture of elegance after using it when we first arrived. There are large ornate mirrors hanging above the three sinks which are just basically porcelain bowls sitting on top of the marble vanity. I can imagine my Mom oohing and aahing at this. There are gold framed pictures of the Savannah landscape lining the damask patterned walls. Well, I’m definitely not in Franklin anymore.
Pulling the handle on the high hook shaped tap attached to the wall, the sound of splashing cold water and the quiet hiss that taps always seem to make fills the room. I splash my face with the cool liquid, not caring that my makeup is probably ruined. I’m sure Liv will have some spare in her purse for a panda eyes emergency.
I stare at myself in the mirror in a way I never have before, in a way that I’m hoping will give me some answers. What the hell is wrong with me? I went six months pushing him to the back of my mind, obsessing over trivial crap like stupid
self help
books and projects. It’s not like he’s been there at every turn; I've seen him once since I came back to town. I've avoided asking about him because I feel like if I don’t voice it out loud then it’s not happening, that I’m not completely still hung up on him.
How can I still care? He broke my damn heart, ripped it out and stamped on it then threw it in the garbage. I take a deep breath hoping the intake of oxygen will give me some strength. I've waited long enough for Brady Cooper to get his act together. Why being around Liv and Trina is messing with my head concerning this guy I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I know they see him, they’ve been around him and they could probably give me the answers I’m subconsciously asking. Does he still care? Has he moved on? Did he refuse to get out of bed for a week, too weak from sobbing?
I need to get a grip. I've only seen him once and nothing spectacular happened. All he said was that he'd always catch me. That doesn’t mean anything though. He could have just been being nice I suppose.
I take another deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut. Damn, I feel like I’m losing my mind. Maybe I should just talk to him, get some closure. That might help, finally closing the door on that chapter of my life. Oh, who am I kidding? I won’t get closure just my heart even more broken.
I open my eyes and brush my straight dark hair through my fingers and lean my face nearer to the mirror, wiping my finger under my eyes to get any smudged mascara.
"Pull yourself together, Cindy." I say to my reflection, hoping
"Um… uh... yeah... I mean-"
"You gotta move on some time boo two." Trina points out and makes it sound like it makes perfect sense. My mind
’
s not accepting that though.
"Isn’t it a bit soon?" I hope they agree.
"You’ve been broken up like six months. Time to move on."
A strangled, high-pitched sound escapes from my throat.
"Or not." Liv jumps in. "It’s completely up to you."
"OW!" Trina yelps. "Why'd you kick me?" She scowls at Liv.
"I need to go to the bathroom." I stand up and quickly dodge the table behind me when I spin around. My hips still hurt from banging them into every table at Annabelle’s.
I swerve through the tables littering the floor, all pushed together and yank the door open to the inside of the restaurant. The low lighting gives it a romantic feel that just seems like pure torture to me at this moment. The red carpet is thick and the heel
s
of my forest green patent pump
s
sink s in. I again navigate round the oak circular tables, chandeliers hanging above every one with lit candles rather than lightbulbs. I guess that’s where it gets the romantic feel
is
from.
I practically throw myself through the dark wood swinging door that leads to both the men and women’s bathrooms. I have no idea what the men’s bathroom looks like obviously, but the women’s is a picture of elegance after using it when we first arrived. There are large ornate mirrors hanging above the three sinks which are just basically porcelain bowls sitting on top of the marble vanity. I can imagine my Mom oohing and aahing at this. There are gold framed pictures of the Savannah landscape lining the damask patterned walls. Well, I’m definitely not in Franklin anymore.
Pulling the handle on the high hook shaped tap attached to the wall, the sound of splashing cold water and the quiet hiss that taps always seem to make fills the room. I splash my face with the cool liquid, not caring that my makeup is probably ruined. I’m sure Liv will have some spare in her purse for a panda eyes emergency.
I stare at myself in the mirror in a way I never have before, in a way that I’m hoping will give me some answers. What the hell is wrong with me? I went six months pushing him to the back of my mind, obsessing over trivial crap like stupid
self help
books and projects. It’s not like he’s been there at every turn; I've seen him once since I came back to town. I've avoided asking about him because I feel like if I don’t voice it out loud then it’s not happening, that I’m not completely still hung up on him.
How can I still care? He broke my damn heart, ripped it out and stamped on it then threw it in the garbage. I take a deep breath hoping the intake of oxygen will give me some strength. I've waited long enough for Brady Cooper to get his act together. Why being around Liv and Trina is messing with my head concerning this guy I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I know they see him, they’ve been around him and they could probably give me the answers I’m subconsciously asking. Does he still care? Has he moved on? Did he refuse to get out of bed for a week, too weak from sobbing?
I need to get a grip. I've only seen him once and nothing spectacular happened. All he said was that he'd always catch me. That doesn’t mean anything though. He could have just been being nice I suppose.
I take another deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut. Damn, I feel like I’m losing my mind. Maybe I should just talk to him, get some closure. That might help, finally closing the door on that chapter of my life. Oh, who am I kidding? I won’t get closure just my heart even more broken.
I open my eyes and brush my straight dark hair through my fingers and lean my face nearer to the mirror, wiping my finger under my eyes to get any smudged mascara.
"Pull yourself together, Cindy." I say to my reflection, hoping
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