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Read books online » Fiction » In Me by Tiffany Anyel (novels to improve english .TXT) 📖

Book online «In Me by Tiffany Anyel (novels to improve english .TXT) đŸ“–Â». Author Tiffany Anyel



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mood. Are you that upset, I pulled you away from your TV?”

“No. You pulled me away from Dirty Dancing, remember?” “Well see, there’s dancing right here—so actually I did you one better.” “Yea, but not the dirty

kind.”

Lee stifling a laugh turns to me and looking serious for the first time says, “You really don’t like people do you?”

“What? Why, you say that?” “Come on Kate—it’s me. I’m with you almost every day and I have yet to see you with anyone else—besides me.”

Fidgeting in my sit I turn to him saying, “And, your point?” “My point is
you hide

from people.” Lee says looking me in the eyes.

Looking away I notice Jenn and a rather cute guy—probably the cutest I’ve seen all night locking arms as they strode over to us.

“Kate, meet Paul,” Jenn said, pushing Paul-the-cute-guy in my direction.

“Hey Paul,” I say raising my almost empty glass. “Hello,” Paul nods his head.

“Paul is an architect for one of my dad’s firms,” Jenn said sitting on Lee’s lap.

Slurring my words, I turn to Paul, “Well Paul, I’m Kate, currently in-between jobs at the moment. Nice to meet you,” smiling I point to a seat, “Please sit down.”

“Thanks,” sitting down he clears his throat and takes a drink. “So Paul are you enjoying yourself?” I ask giving him my—drunken, yet full attention.

“No, not really,” smiling Paul continues, “But I do this kind of thing for work. I meet a lot of my clients—‘working a party’. So it makes these things easier to swallow.”

Laughing I glance at Lee and point to Paul, “I like him—his funny!” Lee rolls his eyes, ignoring me.

I hide from people my ass!—I’ll show him. Turning to Paul I ask, “Would you like to dance?” Feeling Lee’s stare, I get up and take Paul’s hand.

Making it to the dance floor without stumbling—or bumping into anyone I realize I’m not as drunk as I thought. I wanted to prove Lee wrong but standing here in the mist of strangers trying to pull of spontaneous and sexy (for Paul-the-cute-guy)—when I am anything but—I wanted to just crawl in a hole somewhere.

Sensing my nervousness Paul asks, “Let me guess it is your first time?” “Am I that obvious?” I say choosing to opt out on telling him the real reason I had paused in the middle of the dance floor.

Paul smiles saying, “A little. But don’t worry it’s mostly about acting like you know what you’re doing.” I manage a smile as he pulls me closer and asks, “Are you ready?” I take a breath saying, “Take it away!”


After an awkward—yet charming dance with Paul-the-cute-guy, we finally make it back to Lee and Jenn. “Oh my god you guys looked soo cute together!” Jenn said squeezing Lee’s shoulder, “And Kate you didn’t stumble once! Good for you!”

Paul turns to Jenn managing an awkward smile; I roll my eyes—ignoring her and ask for another drink—the tray was empty. Where did all the drinks go??

“So
Paul do you like Kate?” Jenn says, leaning into him.

“Yea, I do,” Paul said clearing his throat looking from me to Jenn smiling—probably realizing the same time I did what Jenn was up to.

“Well Paul you’ll be happy to know that Kate is in-between boyfriends at the moment too.” “Is that right?” Paul said looking at me, looking away—pretending not to hear what I just so loudly did.

“Kate! Paul wants to know, why you currently don’t have a boyfriend!” Jenn says almost screaming over the table—pretending to get my already full attention. (Have I already said bitch?)

I slowly turn looking at Paul—wanting to slap Jenn managed a charming smile saying, “I don’t know.”

“Well, we should get together sometime, if you want. Maybe over drinks or something,” Paul says managing to sound genuine—although definitely feeling the tension between me and Jenn—that Lee so obliviously doesn’t as he sat texting someone on his phone.

Reaching in my bag for my phone I smile at Paul, “Yea, I’d like that.” We exchange numbers, say our ‘I’ll call yous’, and I watched as Paul-the-cute-guy became just another bopping head as he made his way through the crowd.

Turning back to a—dead-silent Lee all night I say, “Are you ready to go?”

Jenn looking like I had just said the worst thing—turns to Lee, “No, you can’t go yet.” Lee—finally opening his mouth replied, “But babe Kate’s ready to go, and I did ask her to come, so.”

“So? Can’t she take your car back? Then we can go when we’re ready, is that okay?”

Lee turning to me saying ‘I’m-sorry-about-this!-I’ll-owe-you-big!’ with his eyes finally asked, “Kate, would that be okay?”

Trying not to all but SCREAM!—at them BOTH! I get up, and walk over to Lee, “Give me your keys.” Handing me the keys Lee gets up and follows me outside. “Hurry back ba—“Jenn said, before the door cut her off.

Not stopping—I stomp through the maze of cars. “Kate! Wait up!”

No, Lee. Not right now—just leave me alone! And where is his stupid car?! Finally spotting it, I get in and fire up the engine.

Lee catching up knocks on the window, “Kate I know your mad. But listen—““No Lee!”

Huffing—and puffing, I put the car into drive and say, “Move Lee.” “No! Let me at least tell you how to get back.”

“I’ll find my own way back!” Hitting the gas pedal I zoom through the gate; looking in the rear-view mirror crying, as my ruined night faded into black.

The Beauty in me




Buzz. Buzz. Buzz

. What the
 Lying face down on my pillow I open one eye. Buzz

. Finally realizing it’s my phone vibrating on my bed—not a stinging bee—I closed my one eye.

Sighing, I turned over watching silhouettes made by the sun’s light on my ceiling. I wanted

to sleep. I wanted

to forget last night. I wanted

to not be hung over. I wanted
to just not be me. I was just so tired of being
me.

Last night I had sat in my shower crying my eyes out for—forever. I hadn’t realized until washing away my tears, how much I let others get to me.

My relation-ships

with others came in one or two ways: Letting them tear me a part—and me following behind picking up the broken pieces. Or building me up—and me walking on egg shells hoping the whole thing doesn’t come crashing down.

Yanking the covers off, I walked to the bathroom starting the shower. As I walked back pass the mirror I noticed—well, me.

Taking a cloth I wash away the steam from the shower—and for the first time since ever, I am curious about the person staring back at me: She had big eyes. Gullible eyes. Frightened eyes.

But in those eyes beyond the sea-green, beyond the rings of dark brown; looking deeply I saw something else. Something
beautiful. And it was there where they sparkled. It was there where I found the courage to look more closely.

Pulling off my shirt and wanting to shrink in the mirror I stood there looking at myself: I had chipped nails from biting them. Hairy legs from hardly ever shaving them; even stubbly armpits.

And I had toenails that could slice

sheets—okay maybe not, but they did need serious work.

My hair looked dry and brittle—so did my lips. And instead of throwing in the towel of shame (I was this

close)—I looked more closely.

I did notice I had smooth clear skin. And a body
let’s just say I should definitely show off more. I turn to the side trying to do a sexy pose.

Laughing I notice my nicely rounded face topped with my dark brown long curly hair--which I never let down.

But what surprised me more than what I did see was the reason why until now—I hadn’t bothered to look. Realizing all that I found shameful was only on the surface, were things easily changed—and therefore only took my time and attention bothered me.

Underneath it all
I was beautiful. And I had been hiding it away. Hiding me away. Not anymore!

I turn off the shower and walk to my bedroom. Put on what I had left in my drawer, grabbed my keys, and shut the door. It was time to go shopping!

****

Finally pulling up in my drive-way exhausted—I had never spent so much time in a mall. And hauling in what felt like twenty pounds of stuff—I get to work.

After the chipping, trimming, detangling, scrubbing—and yes shaving, I had started the shower. I dry off, walk to my room, and begin looking in my bags; I start taking out clothes. Now was the hard part—what to wear.

Even though I had no plans and no idea where I would go—I knew I wanted to go out. No Dirty Dancing tonight—at least not on the couch.

At the mall I had bought one of almost every kind of outfit for all occasions—even the naughty ones.

I looked in one of my bags and found an outfit until now I would have only admired on someone else and been too scared shitless to wear for myself: It hardly hid anything.

A skimpy sleeveless black blouse, red short (and I do mean short) shorts, with crisscross black stockings—I know.

But I had walked by the mannequin enough times finally rendering up the courage to go in and just buy it. I told myself it was my ‘coming out’ outfit. I needed something extreme and standing here with it on I have to admit—I looked bad ass!

I couldn’t help but feel stronger, tougher, and hell-a sexy in it. I turn to the side and bring my hand up mimicking a gun, I had the James Bond theme song playing in my head, “This is Bond, James Bond.”

Laughing I hear the phone—still on my bed. Sighing I walk over and pick it up. Making sure whoever it was knew—yes you are bothering me! I say irritatingly into the phone, “Hello

.”

“Hello is this Kate?” he said sounding nervous. “Yes. And who is this?”

“Oh sorry this is Paul—you know from last night.” “Oh. Hey Paul...” Taken aback that it was him—or anyone else other than Lee (who I was expecting) I clear my throat saying, “How are you?”

“Fine thanks and you?” “I’m

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