Too Keen For Me

Chapter 25: Good For You

"Wow, Isla, you're going up so quickly. You look beautiful," Mom said through video call as I stood in front of a hotel room mirror.

I smiled at the phone. "You think I always look good. This is Miles's party and I just want to fit in," I said, trying to convince myself that I belonged here. When Miles asked me on New Year's Eve to join him, I never thought I would be as nervous as I was now.

"With that dress, you will. Oh, Isla, I have to go. Take photos. I'll talk later," Mom said then hung up the phone.

I nodded as I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. My bright pink eyeshadow matched with the pastel yellow evening gown I found at a thrift store. I thought I looked good. I just hope everyone else thought so too.

With a sigh, I glanced around the fancy large LA hotel room Miles rented for the weekend. I can't remember the last time I stayed in any hotel. It felt like a dream, as if I knew my life couldn't be this grand. In the back of my mind, there was a voice that told me that it couldn't. That this was just temporary.

Pulling me out of my thoughts was a knock on my door. I ran to get it to see Miles on the other side dressed in a fitted black suit. I had never seen him dress so nicely before and seeing him made my legs feel like jelly. He looked stunning, and once again I felt out of place.

What was I doing? Dressing up, pretending to be something I wasn't? I didn't think I could ever fit into this LA life.

He beamed, unable to take my eyes off me. "You're absolutely breathtaking. Everyone is going to be jealous."

I forced a chuckle knowing he was being dramatic. They would not think I was anything grand. No one ever did. I slipped on my white kitten heels Mom let me borrow. "Hardly." Everyone would just see me as some girl from Redding. I was not exciting.

"I'm serious." He spun me around, allowing me to see fresh cuts on his wrists, causing red spots to appear on his white sleeve.

My smile dropped as I stopped spinning to look at them. This time the cuts looked deeper, worse than last time. I had tried to bring them up before, but Miles kept shooting the conversation down. He claimed he was fine, but this wasn't fine. No one self-harmed because they were fine.

Miles quickly pulled on his shirt, covering his wrists, then said, "As much as I would love to stay here, Rodger would be pissed if we were late."

"Then let us be late." I wanted to see his blood boil, just like he made mine. Miles did everything for him and I was sure he was the reason for Miles' self-harming habits.

"Wish I could," he said with a frown as he grabbed my evening purse I used at homecoming last year. Then together, we stepped out of the hotel room.

"Rodger rented a car for the evening," Miles explained as we waited for the elevator to come. He shook his hand as if it was burning. There wasn't fire on his skin, but his MS made it feel like it was on fire.

I didn't understand his illness fully, but I did know he was in more pain than he wanted to share, especially during busy times.

I looked at the tired and worn-out Miles, and knew he wasn't feeling well, but yet he was here. He didn't have a choice in the matter. Rodger wanted this, so he had to go.

"We don't have to stay long," I said as the elevator doors opened, and we stepped in.

He nodded, remaining silent as his distant eyes looked at the floor.

I grabbed hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze as the elevator doors opened again and we walked through the hotel lobby. We could feel eyes on us as we walked out the front doors. It made me pull on my dress awkwardly. I knew I should have spent more than $20 on a dress.