First update of 2013! I hope you guys had an awesome New Year! This isn't my favorite chapter, but I had fun writing it all the same :P The next chapter will pick up where Part One of this one left off.
Enjoy, my loves!
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September
The Alma, Mike, & Maryse Part
*Alma's POV*
I hate fall. I hate cold. I hate it snowing when it's not supposed to snow. I hate Vermont. It's stupid.
We were touring in this forsaken state and I had forgotten some things at my hotel room. I, of course, was not granted access to Rosa's rental—or, for that matter, Kathryn's. Why? Because she didn't have the mind to get one!—so I had to walk. In the snow. Two miles. Okay, granted, it was only dusting, but still . . . it was snow.
Once I had gotten to the hotel, I was relieved that there was heating. I jogged into the elevator and walked quickly down the hall on my floor to my room. Planning to only stay in here for long enough to get what I needed, I had left my gloves and scarf on, so I was a little warmer than I would have liked.
Upon unlocking the door and pushing it ajar, I heard a noise in the room. Jumping a little, I stood back as I pushed the door further open. When I took my first step into the room, my legs went numb and I almost fell on my face.
Mike didn't notice me until I said his name. Coincidentally, I said it about the same time Maryse did.
My mouth hung open as Mike scrambled off of her and she pulled the covers over herself.
“Alma!” Mike exclaimed. “I-I can explain. “Th-this was nothing, all right? I promise. Nothing.”
He didn't have to cover his tracks, however, because the wheels in my brain were already turning. My reaction came instinctively: I told him it was okay. Yes.
“No, Mike, stop,” I told him, my voice soft. “It's fine.”
“W-what?” he asked, clearly befuddled.
“Yes,” I laughed. “Now put some clothes on. We'll talk later.” I leaned over to one side and looked at Maryse. “Hey, you wanna get some coffee?”
At that, both of them were shocked. “Um . . . what?” she asked, clasping her bra behind her back.
“You know, coffee?” I said, some of my inner anger seeping through. “The thing where they roast the beans and there's this liquid that wakes you up? Do they have it in Canada?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she murmured. She stood up and pulled on her skinny jeans. “I thought you would be upset . . .”
I simply shrugged. “Of course I am. I'd just like to talk is all.”
I said goodbye to Mike and silently swallowed down my anger all the way to a cafe the driver of the cab we got recommended, not saying a single word to Maryse.
Once we arrived, we got a small table next to a window and ordered to caramel lattes. We sat there, awkwardly sipping and watching the snow outside for too long a time before Maryse finally spoke up.
“Okay, why did you bring me here, Angel?” she asked, wrapping her hands around the warm latte. “Aren't you supposed to be, I don't know . . .” She tossed her hand up, “. . . kicking Mike in the balls or something?”
