To You, Iyla, page 5
Who was this man?
And why was he making me feel this way?
The questions raced through my mind as someone shouted my name from behind me.
“CeCe!” I forced myself to look away as Claire’s drunken frame dragged its way over. “Oh, CeCe.” She pulled me into an adoring hug, the smell of booze filling my senses. “Do you know how much I love you?”
Despite my frustration at her less-than-impeccable timing, I accepted her into my arms.
“Woah.” She stumbled, making my grip tighten on either side of her shoulders as I helped her to regain her balance.
“Easy now,” I spoke softly. “Let’s get you back to the hotel and into bed.”
“But I don’t want to go to the hotel,” she whined in objection. “I want to get another drink.”
I securely wrapped one arm around her waist and another over her shoulder. “I think you’ve had more than enough tonight.”
I peeked over my shoulder towards Club Affinity one last time, noticing that the mystery man had disappeared inside.
“This has been a night to remember, don’t you think?” Claire asked, slurring her words as she spoke.
“That it has,” I told her as we continued walking, unaware of how true those words would soon come to be. “That it has.”
Copyright Kate Lauren 2023 thewriterkate1@gmail.com
CHAPTER FOUR
I Y L A
As a little girl, I was confident I’d never get sick of fruity cereal. I mean, how could I? I craved it day and night, night and day. I loved it so much that for four months straight, I ate fruity cereal with my breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Waffles and bacon? Add a bowl of cereal.
Peanut butter and jelly sandwich? You bet I’ll have cereal.
I liked to call myself dedicated, but that meant “stubborn” in my parent’s world.
It wasn’t until I woke up one day and suddenly became repulsed by the smell and the taste of fruity cereal overnight that the high finally burnt out.
The same feeling now transpired when I thought about coffee. I never thought I’d get sick of it, but thanks to Hallie, I was on the verge of quitting. In the week since we’d arrived in California, Hallie and I had been to Tim and Sally’s every morning.
Hallie insisted it was because they had the best caramel macchiato she’d ever tasted. But I think we both knew the real reason was that it was a perfect excuse to see Vic, whom she’d gone out with almost every night that week. The two had immediately become inseparable.
Hallie encouraged me to join them each night, but truthfully, I didn’t mind being alone. I had a list of items I wanted to check off my to-do list, and being the third wheel was definitely not one of them.
It was nice to have some quiet time to read, relax, write, and think for once. Most definitely think. My thoughts were consumed with the realization that after 19 years, I was in the exact same place as my mother, writing a new chapter in my life.
But there was another recurring thought that I couldn’t seem to shake.
Ambert.
Our brief interaction still lingered in my mind during everything I did. His voice. His body. His smile.
Holy shit, his smile.
As embarrassing as it was, each night after Hallie would leave, I’d somehow manage to find myself back in Ambert’s sweater. I sought the comfort that such a simple piece of clothing brought to my heart.
To my surprise, Hallie hadn’t addressed my interaction with Ambert that first night. I attributed that to her already all-consuming schedule with Vic—not to mention that I’d remained virtually silent about it.
All it took was for Hallie to catch me sound asleep on my bed with Ambert’s sweater on for me to realize I wasn’t nearly as sleek as I thought.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened?” She shook me awake.
Confused and still half-asleep, I furrowed my brows and rubbed my eyes tiredly. “What happened?’ What do you mean ‘what happened’?”
“You know…” She bounced onto my bed and propped up on her elbows, her hands pressed on either side of her face eagerly. “The night we arrived. Who was that guy talking to you outside the car?”
I sighed, accepting the fact that there was no way I would get out of this situation easily. Lying wasn’t an option, considering she’d instantly know. I’d always been a terrible liar and apparently an even worse secret keeper, because all it took for me to divulge everything to Hallie was one more raised eyebrow.
“Oh, Iy…” She sat up on my bed after I’d told her everything. “You’ve got it bad.”
“I do not,” I objected, pushing aside her comment and sheepishly tucking my hands deeper into the sleeve of Ambert’s sweater.
“Oh, yes, you do. And you know what? I know just the thing to do!”
“No, please,” I pleaded with her, terrified of what “just the thing” meant in Hallie’s world.
“A double date!” She stood up and worked her way toward our drawers. “You said Vic knows Ambert, right? So, let’s ask him if he’s down for a double date. It’ll be perfect.” She beamed from ear to ear.
Perfect was not the exact word that came to my mind as she explained the plan. Stressful was. I threw my pillow over my face—suffocation sounded much more appealing than continuing with this conversation.
“Better yet,” she continued, leaping back onto the bed. “Let’s invite them out for your birthday tomorrow night.”
I whipped the pillow off my face. “No way!” I exclaimed hysterically. “A double date is awkward enough, not to mention it being on my birthday. I will not allow it,” I shook my head, desperate to stand my ground.
“Don’t be a party pooper!” She ignored my objections, holding up a black dress that she carefully rested on her lap. “This dress would look amazing on you. And you know how much you love dresses.”
“Nope.” I pulled the dress out of her hands and tossed it across the room. “There’s no chance.”
“Well, too bad you’re not planning the party.” She shrugged, picking the dress up from the floor.
“Please, Hallie,” I begged. “I don’t know if I’m ready to get back into the dating world.” The sentence prompted unpleasant memories of my last relationship to come rushing back.
Dalton Abrams.
The guy who decided that starting a new relationship with someone else behind my back was more manageable than ending things between the two of us.
We broke up more than six months ago, but the thought of giving my heart to someone else already felt far too daunting. With Dalton, I’d finally trusted to take things all the way, only for it to have all fallen apart.
“Don’t you remind me of that dumbass.” Hallie’s brows creased in unison, playing on the fact that Dalton Abrams stood for ‘dumb ass’ in the book of Hallie.
“I’ll never speak of his name again.” I sealed my lips. “But that’s beside the point. I don’t even know if I like Ambert that much. I hardly know him.”
“The fact that you haven’t taken that sweater off in over a week tells me otherwise,” Hallie remarked as the heat immediately soared to my cheeks.
Did she know the entire time?
“Really, you should be thanking me. This will give you a chance to get to know him better.” She dug through one of her suitcases—the one she’d continually put off unpacking.
“Hallie, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Please, Iy?” She looked over at me, pleading with that doe-eyed look she’d perfected. “Please let your best friend plan your birthday party. You know it’s the least I can do, considering you gave me the most epic party ever. Plus, it’s the last day of August. The summer is coming to an end,” she added. “Consider this a birthday-slash-end-of-the-summer-solstice.”
“Isn’t a solstice in the middle of s—”
“Can you just trust me, please?” she persisted, pulling items out of her suitcase one by one.
“What are you even looking for anyway?” I asked, avoiding her request.
“I have this light blue dress, it’s strapless, and it would be perfect for tomorrow night, but I can’t seem to find it… aha!” she exclaimed as she finally pulled out the dress she’d been describing.
“Here it is. Isn’t it perfect?” she waved it in front of me excitedly.
I stubbornly agreed and took the blue dress from her hand. “Fine, but this is only because I’ve always wanted to wear this.”
“Blue is your color.”
“Yeah…” Hallie tightened her upper lip to hide a smile. “I’m sure that’s the only reason.”
“Happy birthday, Iyla!"
I squinted my eyes open and was met with a phone screen in front of my face displaying both of my parents on a video call. “Huh?”
“Sorry!” Hallie appeared as the culprit. “They wanted to talk before they left for work.”
“Happy birthday, Iyla!” my mom cheered. “August thirty-first was the best day of our lives. The day that the world brought us you.” She leaned against my dad, who nodded in agreement.
It felt bittersweet to see their faces on the screen, knowing that this would be the first birthday in my lifetime that I wouldn’t spend with them.
My parents hadn’t known of my existence until the weeks that led up to my hospital discharge in late December. Yet, despite their initial absence, they’d always managed to make up for it with two special celebrations each year.
One on August 31, my actual birthday, and another on December 22—the day I was discharged from the hospital. My ‘gotcha day’, as my dad would say.
“I’m going to grab us some breakfast. I’ll be back.” Hallie handed me her phone before skipping out of the room as I conversed with my parents, taking the time to enlighten them on everything Hallie and I had managed to do over the past week, minus the Ambert and Vic part.
Our conversation lasted about half an hour before my dad finally spoke up. “Shoot, look at the time. Listen, sweetie, we both have got to get to work, but have a great day, okay?”
“We miss you, Iyla bear,” my mom followed up with a smile, her use of my childhood nickname bringing a smile to my face too.
“I miss you both, too.” I waved goodbye as Hallie re-entered the room and tossed me a muffin.
“It’s not quite the best birthday breakfast.” She sat across from me. “But it’s the best they had.”
“Goodie,” I joked as I peeled back the wrapper and sunk my teeth into the still-warm blueberry muffin.
“So,” Hallie spoke back up. “How would you feel if Vic joined in on our birthday festivities? He mentioned a fair about thirty minutes away. What do you think?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not,” I responded. Despite my not-so-impressive first impression of Vic, I’d begun to warm up to him, given how happy he made Hallie. “A fair sounds like fun,” I pondered, bringing the orange juice to my lips.
“Well, I’m happy to hear you say that. I’d already told Vic we’d be good to go. And that you’re excited to see Ambert again.”
I choked on my orange juice. “What?”
Did she just say Ambert was coming?
“That’s right. Loverboy will be there.”
“Are you serious?!” I spat out. “I didn’t think he would actually want to go.”
“Well, let’s just say it didn’t take much convincing on Vic’s end. Someone really wanted to see you.” She gleamed. “So, finish up that muffin and start getting ready.”
“I’m certain you’re trying to kill me.” I chaotically grabbed items around the room so I could run to the communal shower.
“You’ll think otherwise tonight!” Hallie called out as I slammed the door shut behind me.
Copyright Kate Lauren 2023 thewriterkate1@gmail.com
The
Fourth Entry
C E L E S T E
July 1
As a result of the theatrics the night before, Claire and I didn’t wake up till mid-afternoon the next day.
When I eventually got out of bed, my throat felt hoarse, prompting me to go to the mini fridge and grab a drink. As the fridge door closed shut, Claire rustled awake.
“Morning.” She stretched her arms into the air.
“Morning,” I mumbled in response. “Ibuprofen?” I gestured, reaching for the walking pharmacy I had in my bag.
“No, thanks.” She hopped out of bed, completely refreshed and wide awake. “I feel good. Wasn’t last night great? Wait, don’t answer that.” She beat me to a response I wasn’t going to give anyway. “Because tonight will be even better.”
“Tonight?” I questioned, acting utterly oblivious to her plan to go to Club Affinity. It amazed me how, only a few hours earlier, Claire was on the beach partying the night away—and now here she was, already in planning mode for night two.
“Club Affinity will be a blast.” She walked over to the mini fridge, reaching for water herself. “Don’t you think?”
Had it not been for my curiosity outweighing the sensibility in my mind, I immediately would’ve against going to the club. Club Affinity clearly wasn’t the place that attracted the most respectable men, let alone the safest crowd. What I’d seen the night before confirmed that. Yet, desire conquered decision as I blurted out, “I’m sure it will be fun.”
“Well, I’m glad you feel that way.” She didn’t seem to question my sudden shift as she smiled through a sip of her water. “Because tonight, I’m going to do your hair and makeup and choose your outfit. I want everything to go just right. It’s your first time going to a club, after all.”
I would’ve disregarded her demand if Claire wasn’t so highly talented in beauty and fashion. But I knew I could trust that she’d make me look perfect—something that I wanted to be for the first time in my life.
“Now then…” She marched over to my suitcase. “Let’s start with your outfit. What did you bring?”
“Um,” I stuttered, “you might not want to go through that.”
“Celeste.” Her face sunk in defeat as she pushed my few articles of clothing to the side. “Where is all of your stuff?”
I cringed at the fact that the sabotaging I’d done was now finally coming back to bite me in the butt, the opposite of what I intended for it to do.
“You know what?” She closed my suitcase as she walked over to her own. “Forget about it. You can wear one of my many options instead.” She held a white satin dress with a small side slit and cowl neck in front of my body. “It might be a bit big on you, but we’ll make it work. Now…” She carefully placed the dress to the side before bringing her entire supply of hair appliances and makeup products onto the bed. “Let’s get started.”
Claire added some final touches to my face as the afternoon turned into the evening, swiping a makeup brush along my cheek. “And you…are…done. Oh, my goodness!” she pulled back, an interesting look falling over her face.
“What?” I questioned, worried if her look meant she was genuinely excited or trying to convince me that I didn’t look like a hot mess.
“Celeste, I mean this in the nicest way possible,” she paused. “You’ve never looked better.”
I felt relief wash over me as she excitedly collected her makeup items from the bed and placed them back into her bag.
“Well, I’ve never had a stylist before. So, I’m honored. But go.” I nudged her towards the bathroom. “You’ve spent hours helping me get ready. Now it’s your turn.”
“Fine, fine.” She gathered her outfit. “I’ll be in here if you need anything,” she called out before disappearing inside the bathroom.
Once she closed the door, I finally built up enough courage to make my way over to the mirror. As I looked up, I hardly recognized the person staring back at me in the reflection.
Claire had given my freshly washed hair a blowout, leaving me with more volume than I’d ever had in my life. With her master bag of makeup, she’d given my “au natural” makeup look a total run for its money.
Who was this girl? I couldn’t help but wonder, all the while questioning if a certain someone at the club that night would be asking the same thing.
Claire re-emerged from the bathroom an hour later, strutting like a supermodel on her way out. “So, what do you think?” she grinned, holding her arms out as she showed me her look. “And be nice. I’m sensitive.”
Her outfit was the perfect mixture of sleek and sexy. A matching black top and skirt set exposed her toned abdomen and part of her collarbone. Her dark blue eyes popped with her bold blue eyeshadow as her now pin-straight hair cascaded down her back.
“You look incredible,” I responded with a smile, placing my hands on my own non-existent hips. “Seriously, you look like a model.”
“Oh, stop!” she giggled and shook her head. “But no, keep going, please,” she added playfully before pulling me in to stand beside her so we both fit in front of the mirror’s width. “We look like Charlie’s Angels.” She interlaced her fingers into a gun-like shape in front of me.
“Not quite.” I shook my head with a laugh as I pushed her hand away.
“Fine…Long Beach angels.” She tried as she reached for her bag on top of the dresser. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Thank you, sir!” Claire handed a five-dollar bill to the taxi driver and slammed the door shut behind her.
“Was that ride really necessary?” I asked. We easily could’ve walked to the Club Affinity rather than taking a five-minute taxi ride up the street.
“I didn’t want my hair to frizz up.” She shrugged as she clutched onto my arm and we joined the long line toget inside. “Besides, we need to preserve our energy. We have a long night ahead of us.”
