and we promised

Chapter 4

OLIVIA

"Livie, are you alright?", my bestie asks me. I can see she's still in bed, for she has her pink sleep mask on with the tiny cats and her white oversized T-Shirt.

I mentally make the math of the time difference between Broix and New York. And realize they're six hours behind us. Which means it's only two in the morning at her.

Ups

"I am so sorry", I tell her. "I can call you back later."

Aria starts shaking her head as she removes her head mask. Her blonde hair is all messy having just been on a pillow for a few hours, her blue eyes look at me tired. I have to let my mouth twitch as she holds the camera wrong for a few seconds, making a huge close-up on the many freckles around her nose. She then realizes it and puts the camera back straight. I think she used the margin of the bed as a support, since I can see her well. I can even see the many plushies on her bed. A huge Teddy bear she named Frown, a unicorn she named Sparkles, two plush donuts she called Cinnamon and Spice, and her favorite one, a plushie of a white cat she called Ollie.

Aria yawns once, then her lips grow into a smile. My bestie is the Sunshine on Earth. Always smiling, always seeing the bright sides of life. I am not as happy all the time, but whenever I am with her, she finds a way to give me a bit of her sunshine.

"So, what's up?", she asks me.

I am looking at the mirror, the mascara in my hands, applying some makeup on. If she's dressed in her pyjama, I'm in my bathrobe, my hair up in a bun, a headband keeping the hair from falling in my face while I am working.

"I am going on a date today", I tell her.

I think saying that Aria squealed would be an understatement of how loud my bestie was.

"I am so excited", she says, hopping off the bed and carrying the camera together with her through the apartment, til she arrives at the kitchen and starts making herself coffee. I take that as a sign she won't go back to sleep anytime soon. "With whom?", she asks me as she carefully adds some vanilla flavour in the latte. Aria won't drink any other sort of latte.

"A jockey at the Tournament. His name is Thomas Alderidge", I answer.

She seems to be disappointed for a second, probably wanting me to say another name. A name I haven't allowed myself to say out loud in four years.

However, my bestie quickly goes back to her usual smile and takes out her IPad, starting to search him online.

"Thomas Alderidge you said?", she asks me, typing the name. I nod. She then starts scrolling. "Here says he's hot."

"Who says that?", I ask her amused.

She shrugs. "Pinterest."

I can't help but stop a smile. She then starts scrolling again and continues: "Anyway, let's find out some things about Mister Alderidge." I wait patiently for her to find stuff out. My bestie knows her way with social media. She's a marketing student at Wrencore University in New York, but she's also an influencer. Started her account at the end of high school and she already has millions of followers now. She never addresses herself as an influencer, but I am sure she is. Her posts are amazing and every one of her followers agree. They even started some fan accounts for her. I can't say that I am not proud of her.

"He is 28 years old", she says, then takes a break. She does the math in her head. Six-year age gap. She luckily doesn't comment. "Born on the 31st March in London." At that, she starts smirking bright. "Oh, he's a London boy. I approve of him."