Rolling Stones

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Rule Number Thirteen: Don't ever get caught up in being too nice. Sometimes it's okay to ignore your fiancee's brother.

I was sure I was falling in love with Tom. So much so that when I would look at him it would start to hurt every fibre of my being.

He was what every girl searched for, especially as he sat here on a Friday night with me while we were both in bright green, clay face masks. The couple on screen erupted into a lovers quarrel and it appeared that both me and Tom were into it.

I would catch glimpses of him out of the corner of my eye. Admiring his many different expressions, and it made my heart warm on how we saw things the same.

He was perfect, too perfect and there were a million different girls that he could've chosen. Ones that were better than me and that he actually chose to spend his time with instead of being forced to because it was in his best interest.

But he had the same fatal flaw as me and I wondered what it was that he would do that would make me hate him.

Smiling, I went back to picking off the remains of my manicure. It was Friday and so Saturday was the best day to have your nails redone.

Tom's hand rested on my upper thigh, he was so caught up in the TV in front of us that he didn't turn to me until the commercial about air freshener broke his steady concentration.

"I'm so glad you and Harry have made up" he spoke, Tom was genuinely happy that I cared enough to try. He cared so much for someone that clearly was trying to sabotage him.

The sound of Harry's name made my blood run cold. We had made up, but not in the way we should've. The kiss was far too good, and I wasn't sure if it was because it was a taste of forbidden fruit or because I was happy that a man besides my arranged fiancé wanted to kiss me.

The cynic in me wondered if Harry was up to something, but then I soon realized that Harry was far too lazy to try anything.

"Of course, he's your brother, he means the world to you".

Even though I should've vomited as I spoke because I was a complete liar. Apart of me felt at ease about it, despite what I had done I was sincere.

I had begun humouring Harry from the start because I believed Tom deserved a wife that actually cared.

"I think he's finding his way, I'm proud of him" Tom spoke as he smiled to himself. The movie that we had been watching began once again and we broke away from our conversation.

I stared at the TV and from an unsuspecting eye, I would've looked as though I was captured by what I saw. But instead, I was consumed by guilt that I wasn't sure would ever go away.

-

The restaurant was rather noisy, I found myself zoning out at my date in front of me. A pretty waitress would walk by ever so often and it would take me away from my trance to watch her fleeting figure.

Inside I hoped that my spaced mind wasn't obvious. My thumb and forefinger pinched my bottom lip to try and keep me focused on the washed out blonde.

Noel was a model. Not the high fashioned ones that had blank stares and feet trained to walk in heels. No, she was the type of model that refused to shave and smoked cigarettes in between shots to curb cravings.

She had space in her front teeth that some would deem cute and a body that was far beyond death. She was what I considered a cool girl. Noel was the type that I convinced myself that I needed. She grew up on the Rolling Stones, her father was apart of a no-name band that had brought them all over Europe without a permanent home.

She was forever cooler than me, even growing up she seemed to have more than me despite the fact that she lived out of a panelled van.

Noel wasn't like the typical girls in New York. On our date, she arrived wearing an oversized sweatshirt that acted as a makeshift dress. Her complimentary accessories were a pair of beat-up old vans and a small leather purse that resembled one that you would get at a side shop in Mexico.

Some would find it pretentious, with the undertone of messy. But I found it aesthetically pleasing and absolutely irresistible. Even the small John Lennon like sunglasses that she hadn't taken off until halfway through the date inside, were painfully cool.

"My father didn't want me to model, it's far too vapid for his liking. But it's the only thing that allows me to provide anything to the art world without drowning in debt" she rolled the glass of wine between her hands.

She hadn't even made it to any sort of catwalk yet. But that was still in some sort of way infectious. Maybe it was the way that she just didn't give a shit about anything.

"My father hated a lot of things that I wanted to do. But that's changed now" I thoughtfully smiled looking down at my half-empty glass hoping that it would send me some sort of message.

"He understands, yeah?" Her voice perked as her eyebrows rose.

"Not really, no. I stopped running because my brothers getting married. I'm sick of being shown up so I'm trying the whole grown-up thing".

I hoped it didn't sound as petty as it really was. If I told her that I had kissed his fiancee, I'm sure she should've left in disgust.

"Thier the two socialites that are apparently hosting the wedding of the year. Your fathers are plastic surgeons to the stars, right?" She seemed impressed but unfortunately, I didn't hold a piece of that pie. I wasn't extensively educated or well rounded- even though I tried to be.

"Ya," I clipped.

Even when I didn't want it to, the thought of Ana came creeping in. I wondered what she was doing with my brother on a Friday night. I knew she was content and happy, despite what I felt I knew she deserved to feel that way.

But I also knew that when it came to Tom she had no idea of what she really wanted.

With the thought sitting in my mind as if it were a toxic mould, I decided that my night was ruined.

With a confidence that I was sure would be well received, I asked: "Do want to leave and go back to my place?"

And without much of a debate at all she agreed. Because the type of girl that Noel was she didn't believe in old fashion ideas. She knew that whether or not I called her in the morning, that I would be worth chasing because I wouldn't wait for her.

As I laid in bed that night, I wondered if I should text Ana. Not because I had anything intelligent to say but because I couldn't stand the thought of Tom being the person on her mind.

Sorry, this is late. It's literally been a month! I hope you guys enjoyed, this is setting up for a really juicy chapter! Sometimes you have to get all your boring ducks in a row before you get to the good stuff. If you or someone you know would like to make the cover for this story let me know, as I am getting a little sick of this one!

Thanks so much for the support and for reading!

Be back soon. I promise.

Soph ❤️

©2017, thirteen13blue

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