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  “ESME WAKE UP!”

  I jolt awake, my eyes dart to the alarm clock that reads 8:30am. My bestfriend of 10 years is glaring at me, her hands on her curvy hips. Crap, I was suppose to be awake 40 minutes ago.

  “That damn alarm clock has been going off for the last thirty minutes!” She groans and she smacks the top of it, turning the annoying beep beep off. I smile shyly, “sorry Jean. I was up late last night, it was so hard to fall asleep after watching that movie last night.”

  She rolls her brown eyes and stomps out of my room, “I signed up to your mom.” She Calls over her shoulder.

  “Love you!!” I laugh and swing my comfortable warm fluffy blanket off of me. I groan, already missing the warmth.

  We have been friends since we were 15, exactly 10 years ago. Roommates now for 6 months. Its been 6 months since the break up with my 6 year relationship to Cole, which costed me a place to live. Cole and I rented out a house together about a year and a half ago, and it was all under his name. So of course it was my things that got packed up and moved into this lovely two bedroom townhome Jean owns. Despite her grumbling about becoming my mom, she loves having me here.

  Today is the day I start my new career. Well atleast get my foot in the door of it. I’m assistant to a top art director. I’ll have to run their errands, make appointments, set up galleries and pretty much be on call for them. I’m a little nervous working for this new company that recently opened up in our middle of no where town in Indiana. But from what there website says, it’s part of a huge chain that is all around the world. So traveling is definitely an option for these galleries, and that has me reeling in excitement. I want to see the world, experience new places and new people.

  My mind sours when I think of Cole, who never wanted to take me anywhere. His job would locate him in so many different areas and even though bringing your partner With you was an option, he never brought me. Jean bets he was cheating but I never had the motivation to look for that evidence.

  I hurry out of the room and jump into my shower. This townhome is pretty nice, two master bedrooms are on the top level with their own full bathrooms. Along with the laundry room the sits in the middle of the two rooms. Then the stairs lead down to the front door. The first level is all open concept, with the white tiled kitchen that is done with the chef theme. And the living room where we watching the Butterfly Effect last night. Which gave me nightmares. I’ve never been a fan of scary movies.

  Taking my shower in less than 10 minutes, I wrap myself in a towel and blow dry my long blonde hair. I got 30 minutes before I know I will for sure be late. I’ll definitely have to skip breakfast.

  I blow dried my hair quickly, it naturally was straight. I ruffled my bangs and put on some mascara. I checked myself out, even though I was still wrapped in my white towel. My hair always got attention, it naturally was silver. Everyone always asked if I dyed it but I haven’t touched my hair. I actually was forbidden to touch my hair.

  My parents that raised me, even though I was adopted at age 6 made me promise I would never touch it. I miss them, I should give them a call later.

  I checked the time 9:20 .. I have 10 minutes. Back in my room, a sexy black straight skirt and light blue blouse that tucks into the skirt were laid on my bed, along with black heels. “I FREAKIN LOVE YOU JEAN!” I scream as I hurriedly put on the outfit. I took a minute after putting my heels on to gather all my items into a large purse, that could easily hold files and items I may need.

  Running down stairs, Jean was filling a to go coffee cup. “I hope you have a good day, you got this, go show them how fucking artsy you are,” she says and she hands me the coffee.

  “I seriously don’t deserve you.” I say giving her a quick hug. She smelled like wild raspberries and coffee. I have a spactular sense of smell. She must of taken a shower before me. “What are you doing today,” I arch an eyebrow at her face. She was gorgeous, her face still looked like she was sixteen. Freckles sprayed on her button nose and wide brown eyes that always seemed to sparkle. Her figure was on the plus size but I adored her curves, and she knew exactly how to display what she had. Jeans confidence always out did mine. She rolled her eyes, “just hanging out might meet up for lunch with... a friend.” Her mischievous smile totally gave her a way. “Is this the same “friend”,” I physically use air quotes when I say that,” that you have been getting lunch, and movies with?” She usually keeps her love life a mystery. Never introducing anyone unless it was serious. And the last time she done that was a few years ago.

  I grimace as a memory of a double date pops up in my head which involved Cole. It ended with Cole drunk, yelling at me for wearing a outfit he found too reveling, so after dinner at our house the double date ended.

  “When am I going to meet him?” I ask before she even answered. I tuck a strand of my hair that fell in my line of the coffee cup as I took a sip.

  “Actually,” she drawled, “this Friday let’s go to that new bar that opened up. Jeff and his friend wanted to check it out. She kept that devilish smile on her adorable face.

  I groaned, “why are you trying to set me up.”

  “Because you need get out girl, you’ve holed yourself in your room long enough. Time to get out again. Have a few drinks,” she sways here hips,”we can dance. Let loose a bit. And you’ll meet Jeff.”

  So this man has a name I think as I think about what I’m going to say.

  “Fine, but I’m not promising anything.” I glance at my phone. “Shit! I got to go. I’m going to be late on my first day.”

  Running, literally running out the door before she replied, I got to my lovely Ford Escape. It was a few years old but still one of the nicest cars I ever bought with my own money. Which ment I got take the car when he broke up with me.

  Yes he broke up with me. I can’t say it was out of no where but it definitely hurt when I thought we could work through anything. After years with someone, promising to marry, moving in together would leave with some sense of security . I hate how 6 months have gone by and I still think of him.

  Slamming my door I take off, making sure to blast music to get rid of these unwanted Cole thoughts.

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