Going Ghost

Chapter Theee

I've never been an easily intimidated woman, I have spent years perfecting the art of being unbothered.

The cool indifference I shrouded myself in began my junior year of high school when Freddy Bradshaw, a senior football player, took me to Prom. As soon as the dance was over he pressured me relentlessly into giving him my virginity, so I did the one thing I knew to do - kick him as hard as I could muster, right between the legs.

The next Monday, the rumors had reached new depths. Ranging from me allowing him to 'do me' behind the dumpsters on the football field, to begging him to marry me when he finished. Each rumor entirely different but the names they brandished me with were always the same.

"Slut. Whore. Trailer trash. Gold digger. "

When some students finally got around to asking me what happened, I would shrug my shoulders and tell them, "We simply couldn't have had sex, I mean we tried but poor kid just couldn't get it up."

I learned an important lesson that year; no matter how many nights I sobbed into my pillow wishing it would all go away, I always faced them with my head held high and never let them see they had affected me.

I spent all of my collegiate years perfecting this craft and not a day went by that it wasn't utilized.

But standing here, outside of a no doubt elaborate ballroom, where I will be awaiting the judgment of New York's elite I felt small.

Like everyone in that room will know from the moment I walk in that I am a fraud. That they'll know my go-to meal is packaged Ramen noodles instead of caviar and that I've never spent more than $15 on a bottle of wine.

I'm not sure how Greyson managed to get us on the list tonight and no matter how curious, I refused to ask and now I almost wish he hadn't been successful.

Sucking in a shallow breath I paused, counted backwards from ten and let my eyes take in the other attendees. They were all dressed impeccably, in designer floor length formal gowns and suits that likely cost more than my rent.

But then again so was I, so what exactly was the difference between us?

Confidence.

They all looked like we should be glad they graced us with their presence and I no doubt look as apprehensive as I feel.

"Relax Phi, you look stunning." Greyson said, gazing at me while wrapping one strong arm around my waist, protectively.

"Is it that obvious?" I winced.

"No, but I know you. You're tense and all wound up," he paused as his strong fingers began rubbing small circles into my hip, "But you and I both know you have nothing to worry your pretty little head about. Not a single man in there will notice your apprehension because they'll be too busy trying to get you alone to steal you away from me."

Breathing out a laugh I sighed, "I think you may just be the moodiest man I've ever met, Greyson. One minute you're avoiding me like I'm a viper and you're my prey and the next I'm the prettiest girl at the party."

"Was that a 'Powerpuff Girl's' reference?" He laughed, pulling us forward in line.

The bald man standing at the podium beckoned us forward, allowing the rest of Greyson's thought to die on his tongue.

If nothing else, the way the men and women working the event were dressed should speak volumes of the type of people here tonight. Each and every one of them were dressed immaculately. Including the gruff bald man asking Greyson for our names, "Powell." Greyson responded appropriately, giving the aging man our fake married name.