Trying To Endure

Chapter Fifty-Seven

SONG: Akon, Hamsika Iyer - Chammak Challo 

Wanna be my chammak challo💃💃💃

I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH

Did you know Akon made it? 

Like, I can't believe it either, but somehow that makes the song so much better. It's so nice. I think he learnt the language to do it, bless.

🌷

Derek Matthews

Thirty minutes, I drum my fingers on the sofa, impatiently waiting. The chefs concluded with pineapple, apricot and lime punch, cranberry sangria, virgin margarita, shirley temple and tens other alcohol-free drinks made by the chefs, so delicious and eye-rolling to enjoy. I sip the arnold palmer, delighting how the coolness burns my tongue.

Jackson's contact-gaze riveted. His jaw dramatically timbers to the marble floor, the glass splintering into shards. "I'm actually so lucky."

Tanner lifts from his phone, bemused, following the blond's fascination. The rocks glass of the orange-hued drink stalled, the rim pressed to my bottom lip.

Five, outrageously-attractive girls in the hottest attires of luxury and obedience descend the irradiating steps, the colours sophisticatedly modifying to red hues. My hypnotised gaze absorbs the vixen — the most enticing, the most beguiling, the most everything. She possesses this eminently lethal, eminently arousing, and eminently addictive gift to leave me breathless, to leave me in shock.

I set my glass on the desk before it slips and shatters. 

Goddamn.

Shit, I can't breathe.

An off-shoulder, long-sleeved, scarlet, sparkly dress up to her thighs, legs bared and toned, a knotted bow at the front with a triangular cut-out to wink a flash of her almond skin. The dress is perfect to enshroud her scars she has yet to unveil when she is ready. Those luscious curls are straightened, lengthening to her hips. Such a wicked, prepossessing colour red is. Undoubtedly her shade as it compliments her skin tone.

I sit up higher to ease. Stupid move — the heat knots my abdomen, sinking. Fuck, not now. But fuck, she righteously stole my night.

Jackson manages to rise, his eyes raking his girl with solid desire and love. Orange, thin-strapped spaghetti dress, the left hem diagonally slashed into a stream of silver, chittering strings, and black high heels. He wraps an arm around Ines. "I hate you."

Ines giggles. She has a septum piercing, too. "Hello to you."

Jackson situates a hand on her leg, gliding it up.

"Hey, hey, hey." Tanner crosses his fingers, time-out. "Let's keep it PG-13."

In a flash, Theo bounces back to our booth, sliding an arm around his girlfriend. Naila looks like a princess: a white, off-shoulder, satin dress, the sleeves hefty and bouncing. Her vitiligo is unashamedly welcomed. I couldn't help the proud smile at my sister. As she should.

April deliberately sits next to me. The music dims, the colours and luminosity merging in a blur. "Hi."

Dammit, stop smiling, April. Don't get me wrong—I love it. But you make me too fucking nervous.

I couldn't help it. The beats deafening and pulsating, I lean close to her gold-budded ear. My breath fans downward to her neck, her pulse quickening. She would push me away if it discomfited her — I reminded her way too many times to know she won't hesitate to. "You look absolutely gorgeous."