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Another Sneak Peak at Forgotten Storm

Nicole


Three days after what I’ve since dubbed, The Incident, I stare out the bay windows in the kitchen, and savor my first mug of sweet awakening. I honestly don’t understand how people get through their day without four cups of Java. They must be robots. Or aliens. Or Nazi’s. That would explain Hitler’s problem. Lack of caffeine.

I inhale a deep meditative breath as my emotions drive through me like people drive through the gigantic trees at the National Park. Guilt. Pain. Rage. And their resolution? Acceptance. All the reasons the reboot needed to take place: to remind myself I’m strong, to let go of the weaknesses I loathe with a passion, and to remember who I’ve become, a badass warrior, so I can let go of who I was, a psychotic victim of her emotions.


After the satisfying club session—I will definitely use Dominic again since he remained professional throughout the whole thing and gave me exactly what I needed—Alex and I met at the dance club she suggested. With the new, tingling warmth in my body, I let loose. Consumed considerable amounts of alcohol and danced till sweat drenched my hair. Afterwards, we relaxed at a cozy all night coffee shop, and drank cappuccinos until we both sobered up. Overall, a decent night.


I pour my second cup of joe as Alex comes waltzing into the kitchen, dressed in dark-blue skinny jeans, tan, low-heeled knee-high boots and a brown and white swirl tunic sweater. Her bright red hair curls around her face and shoulders, still damp from the shower.


I raise my eyebrow. “Going somewhere?”


“Yes.” Alex heads for Joe, a.k.a., the coffee pot. “If you don’t mind me tagging along, I would love to spend the day with you.”


Both eyebrows raise. “Um… sure.” I don’t perceive a lie but there’s something lurking under the surface. “Everything all right, Alex?”


She shrugs. “Can’t I kill the day with my bestie?” she asks, hiding behind the steaming coffee cup cradled in both hands.


“Of course.” Emotions are troublesome for me, especially someone else’s. Should I probe further? It’s what friends do right? Hound each other until they spill their guts? “Alex… you know you can talk to me. I may not offer the best guidance, shit, I’ll probably offer horrible guidance, but I promise to listen.”


“I’m cool.”


“I won’t take no for an answer.” I tease, hoping to ease whatever shits going on in her head.


“How rapey of you.”


I bark out a laugh at her response and her lips curl in a brief smile. For whatever reason, Alex’s lips are sealed. Who am I to judge a person’s need for secrecy? I’m the queen of secrets and being a queen of something is sweet. Now, if I could just get Alex to bow, all would be right with the world.