The French Girl

7

"That awful feeling when you can feel someone started to care less and less about you

and there's nothing you can do about it.."

"You're seriously going out for dinner with the  Charlie Roberts?" Pippa, my sister asked me her legs swinging on the edge of my bed. I laugh, turning around to face her. "Yes. I know, but it seems like it's a good time for me to get back out there." I continue fixing my earrings, while looking at Pippa.

Pippa is literal perfection. She's got beautiful platinum blonde hair and the cutest baby face ever. When people look at me and Pippa, they wouldn't think twice that we were sisters. I mean, who can blame them? We are polar opposites. She's sweet and innocent, I'm feisty and daring. She's all for pink and anything that glitters, I'm for nude pink and black boots. Polar opposites.

Pippa walks over to me, her strong fragrance stinging my nostrils. She then rests her hands on my shoulders, looking over my shoulder on her tippy toes into the mirror. "Mom and Dad would've been looking at you right now and thinking, why aren't you wearing the matte lip?"

I laugh, spinning around. "Sorry, but matte lips dry my lips out and I'm not trying to have that. Let's keep it glossy." Pippa sighs, plopping on the bed. "Whatever you say."

"Can I come in?" Peter's voice is noticeable on the other side of the door. "Pippa, let him in."

Pippa skips over to the door, quickly opening the door. In comes Peter with some sweatpants and a plain white t shirt that looks very fitting on him. "Hi." I turn around on my heels to face him.

A silent, but very noticeable wow escapes from his lips as he stands there awestruck. "You know I could leave the room if you want." Pippa interrupts our silence by walking toward the door.

"Uh yeah," I say waving Pippa away. Pippa quietly exits the room, shutting the door behind her. 

Peter and I stand for a while just in complete silence so thick, you can cut it with a knife. Finally, I decide to clear my throat to ease the silence. 

"Why him?" Peter exhales his words out quickly. As if it hurt him to say it. 

"What?" I didn't exactly get what he was saying. Or meaning. 

Peter slowly walks over to me, his eyes firmly on mine. His arms slowly move to hold my own arms of which he's got a pretty good grip. "Why Charlie, Blair?" His voice so raspy, so dry, just so..dead.

I didn't know how to answer that question. That is true, one minute I hated Charlie and the next I'm going out to dinner with him. It didn't sit right in my stomach. Now Peter, he helped me get to where I am now, he inspired me to be where I am, to achieve my goals. But Charlie got his life planned out for him. Work, remain hot, repeat. 

"I don't know. It's been a while since I've been taken out to a dinner, plus it's just an innocent dinner. No fooling around afterwards." I say and Peter has a different gaze on me. He steps back, sighing. 

"Promise me you won't fool around with him. Charlie Roberts may be my friend but he uses girls like a used tissue after spring season." 

"I promise, cross my heart and hope to die." 

Charlie steps out the car first, giving me some time to check my makeup out in the mirror. "M'lady." Charlie graciously opens the door for me to exit the car. I laugh getting out, the car door slamming shut. A small beep beep! comes after as Charlie locks his 270,000 dollar car that his parents gave him for his 17th birthday. Yup, I heard that story as Charlie was driving. And i might've heard it from a couple of magazines. 

"So, this place has the best steak and wine of all time. You'll for sure like it." Not that anyone could ever deny a steak dinner or even a night out with Charlie Roberts, so I must say, I am having a bit of fun.

"So," Charlie sits me down at his reserved table. I smile, sitting down before sneaking a few glances around me. There was wealthy people as far as the eye could see. Lawyers, Doctors, Musicians, Actors/Actresses, they all filled the room with their heartily laughter. "Where are you from?" Charlie asks me.

I tap my chin for a while, "London. I love it there, it's just an amazing hometown." I reminisce of my younger self smiling with my family in front of Big Ben. 

"Really? Not to offend you or anything but have you met the queen?" Charlie chuckles, clearly joking. 

I clear my throat before sipping on the expensive glass of white wine. "Oh no I haven't. Did you have dinner with Trump yet?" 

And right then and there, a spark happened.