Hi there! Before I start getting pelted with shoes, I promise that the next two chapters of Rounding Third are with my beta now! Yay!
This story is about souls, redemption and hopefully will have some laughs along the way.
Absolute mad props to 107yearoldvirgin, BellaSunshine, and IPunchWereWolves for their support on this. You ladies absolutely rock my socks. Kas90 is my beta and has offered some fantastic advice. Many many many hugs and kisses.
These shoes are killing me. My toes are pinched, and I can feel a small blister forming between them.
All throughout the party, I hear a voice nagging me in the back of my head. My boyfriend's sick while I'm at a party. I feel guilty for having fun while he's in bed, coughing up his other lung from the way he sounds on the phone.
I decide to say my good-byes and head to Mike's home. Maybe I'll make him some soup.
I pull to the curb in front of Mike's townhouse and see a purple Volkswagen Beetle parked in my spot. That's not Mike's car.
"Mike," I call out, letting myself in, leaving the keys in the deadbolt. "Honey, I was just coming by to see how you were feeling." I hear a crash come from the floor above and slowly move towards the stairs. The pieces start falling together rather quickly. The strange pair of heels in the foyer, the lingering scent of perfume, and the giggling. Lots of high pitched giggling.
I sigh and give in to the sick desire to confirm my suspicions. It's clear Mike isn't sick, and I know for sure that his assistant, Jessica, is not a medical professional. In fact, I'm willing to bet that the only thing medical related she does know was how much Plan B cost. That, and how much lube is needed for rectal thermometers, or anything rectal for that matter.
Just as I'm about to enter the bedroom, I collide into a topless Jessica, quickly followed by a naked Mike. "I see you're feeling much better." I desperately want to scream and yell, but I know it won't make a damn bit of difference. Instead, I do what I do best and let myself feel nothing. I'll deal with my emotions later; now is not the time to show weakness.
"Bella! Shit! What are you doing here?" Mike's eyes are wide, darting between the two of us.
"Well, I was thinking how horrible it was that you were home sick and alone while I was at the party."
"I swear it's not what it looks like..."
I hold up my hand. "That's what you're going with?"
He swallowed and nodded.
"Alright then, I'll just see myself out." I turn and descend the stairs as quickly as I can without falling.
I'm almost to the bottom when I hear Jessica ask Mike, "I thought you said she'd lost weight."
I let all sense leave me, and I run as quickly as I can to my car and drive home on autopilot.
Later, after a long shower, a bottle of wine and a good purging cry, I settle in on the couch and take a long look at myself.
I am average-in hair and eye color, height and weight. I'm not skinny, but I'm not eating eight thousand calories a day, either. I'm a size ten or twelve, depending on the clothing. Like I said, average. I work for a newspaper doing the movie reviews and sometimes fill in for Alice, the girl who writes the daily horoscopes. I'm smart, I can be funny, and I've always gotten along with people. So what is it about me that drives men to be unfaithful or gay, my pets to run away, and have the most mundane existence known to mankind?
The next chapter should be posted mid of next week. Hoping to get a jump start on the next few chapters so I can establish some sort of posting schedule.
Thanks for reading!