COMMAND

Nine

Miriam nodded. "Sure, Ms. Veronica."

Veronica grabbed my hand and tugged me along before I could steal another glance at Miriam. When we got into the pool house, I told Veronica I was going to my room to change into the bikini that she bought me, but she laughed and told me it was unnecessary to go upstairs. That I could change right here. With that, she took off the coverup and sank in one of the lounge chairs, leaning against the reclined back.

"Beth, hurry up!" she called out.

I quickly took off my clothes and discarded them on the ground, wearing the new bikini. It did fit. I considered asking her if she asked Rogue for my size, but I would rather not know that. Barefoot, I strolled to where she sat and took the opposite chair. She swung her head at me.

"This is nice, isn't it? Us together here."

I nodded, not knowing what to say.

"I'm not really popular with anyone, but I guess you and I have something in common."

Rogue.

I dragged my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. "How are you not popular with anyone? You're you. You should have so many friends." Wasn't that what rich people do? They keep an endless amount of friends.

"I guess I could have, but I don't vibe with anyone. Everyone's just too perfect. They believe in perfection. They're too much into the plastic. I like real things." She grabbed a bottle and drank straight from it. When she gulped it down, she continued, "Real things can be bent. Real things can scar and get out of shape. Real things are nice."

It sounded like it came straight from her heart, and where things came straight from the heart, came a story. But I didn't want to poke at it, so I decided to choose the lesser evil, "Your husband?"

She coughed out a laugh and glanced at me, even though I couldn't see her eyes. "He's a tool," Veronica said, surprising me. "Don't mind me for saying that, but it's the truth. I married Pete because I had no choice, but we have no connection. He's boring and serious. We are not compatible, Beth. He doesn't get me. People who don't get me stay. People who get me run."

I wondered where I would end up falling, but I didn't know her, and I could tell that she had been hurt by people. She had tasted pain, and she was trying to venture far away from it.

"How long have you been in America?"

Her question was simple, so it was easy to reply. "A little over a year."

"Do you like it?"

I shrugged. "I guess so." Apart from missing my family and friends like hell, America wasn't so bad, actually.

"Your family?" she asked, going for another sip of her vodka. I noticed that she was drinking from the bottle excessively. Did she want to get drunk?

"They're still in London."

"Got siblings?"

"Two."

"Lucky you. I'm an only child. I'm telling you, that shit ain't fun." Veronica increased her volume a little higher as she said it. She crossed her long legs and put her arm behind her to support her head.

"How did you and Rogue meet?"

If I weren't paying so much attention to her, I wouldn't have caught the moment where her jaw hardened, and then she smiled. "Which one do you want to know? The real one or the fake one?"

I sensed I was approaching a difficult subject, but I decided to proceed anyway. "The real one." And why would they need a fake story of how they met?