Chapter Seventeen

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Friday    April 16th

JORDAN

This is the last place I wanted to be tonight. I honestly can't explain how I let Kennedy talk me into this. It's not like I havent been to loud places like this, I just wasn't in the mood to be around people who were going to be loud and obnoxious. Possibly extra handsy, reeking of alcohol and more often than not, making poor life choices. Personally I much preferred being at home reading a good book.

I guess it shouldn't surprise me either, Kennedy's always been able to talk me into doing things I normally wouldn't do on my own. Only a selected few have been able to accomplish such a feat. I only gave in because Kennedy gave me a pouty face that I've never been able to resist no matter how much I tried. She knew it would work and it did.

She's been a little more needy since she took the role as my girlfriend. I can't complain though, it's been fun having her around. Everyone at school was surprised that were together, Cole more so than anyone else. Which is funny since he was the main one to tease us about it and now that we are, he's at a loss for words.

Still, even though things with me and my best friend have been going good, one thing hasn't changed. There's still a huge hole in my heart where Sydney once occupied. I hated having to see the hurt in her eyes when she happened to see Kennedy and I kissing last week. This is the price we have to pay to try and get out of this fucked up situation.

Kennedy was right when she said she knew where my heart truly lies. Her understanding that is what I appreciate the most about her. My best friend being the one to suggest we take things slow. Which has gained the beautiful blond another level of respect from me. Deep down, she and I both know if given the opportunity I would go to Sydney in a heartbeat. And if that happened, I'm not sure our friendship could survive it.

So I decided to make the most of what her and I have and treat her with the respect and love she deserves. Which is why I find myself standing in front of one of the hottest clubs in town, opening the door for my girlfriend.

Like I've said before, any man or woman would be lucky to have a bombshell for a girlfriend such as Kennedy. Tonight, I just happened to be the lucky one to have her on my arm for the night. She was every bit the beautiful young woman dressed in a pleated mini skirt, white halter top and white three inch high heel Jimmy Choos. Her blond locks pulled up into a high messy bun with white pearls pinning her beautiful tendrils into place.

Compared to her I felt like I looked mediocre at best, wearing white Dolce&Gabbana straight leg trousers with baby blue graffiti print, along with a matching white Dolce&Gabbana cotton t-shirt with multi-colored graffiti print. Not to mention my all white D&G Portofino Sneakers. Although I have to admit, I felt a little refreshed getting a haircut. Now my annoying stray strands of hair wont get in my face as much as it used to.

Holding out my hand for Kennedy to take, she gets out with added grace and poise. I toss my keys to the valet then place a monetary tip in his palm. He smiles at me and gets in the car and drives off. Kennedy and I approach the bouncer at the door, once again I offer the monetary tip and he lets us through.

I let out a sigh of slight annoyance that Im back in a setting such as this. My memory of the last  few times I stepped foot in a club came to me. My reluctance isn't about just dealing with drunk people. If I'm being honest, I don't really have the best track record when it comes to the party scene. Somehow drama ensues and Im usually the one in the middle of it. Which is a big part of the reason why I've tried so hard to give up this phase.

Somehow these places to seem to differ too much. The only difference is the venue and the people. The DJs playing a new hip-hop track and doing his job at hyping up the crowd. There are a few people who are feeling the effects of the alcohol while out on the dance floor. The atmosphere doesn't surprise me with it being a weekend and all.

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