Read Between the Lines

Chapter 11: Dancing with a stranger. Or not?

THIRD PERSON's POV

Anntonia didn't want to be alone tonight. Yesterday night had taken its toll on her and she wasn't ready to spend another night moping in her room, watching A Star is Born and crying like a baby. She wasn't ready to face whatever her subconscious kept trying to tell her. So she put on her best clothes and went out of the dorm.

...

Michelle didn't want to be alone tonight. Maybe it was time to find someone who can help her forget. Anntonia's words from last night kept ringing in her ears like an annoying high-pitched noise.

I can't do this.

Yeah, well, neither could she. She was tired of doing this and pretending she didn't want the things she wanted and she was tired of the girl lying to herself. She had every right to run, but she was in no way supposed to chase her. Not anymore.

So she pulled out her phone and dialed the first number that popped up. Sam Panlilio.

She didn't remember her too clearly, but she must've been decent if she'd kept her number and the girl picked up almost immediately.

"Hey," she greeted her in that flirty voice she used on girls and that always worked.

But with a single infuriating exception; Anntonia Porsild.

"You busy tonight?"

...

The lesbian Anntonia found in the club wasn't much, but she was a welcome distraction. Her name was Patricia. They had some classes together few years back and she had always suspected she had a crush on her. A couple of drinks in, she didn't even care if the person wasn't the same short hair she knew, or that her smile wasn't crooked enough or that she hadn't read The Kite Runner, or had a strong opinion on Jay Gatsby or Harry Potter.

Thankfully, the music was loud enough so they didn't have to talk. The lights were so blinding she could just close her eyes and pretend she saw whatever she wanted to see. She could just reach out and her hands could find whoever they wanted to find.

She drowned herself in her self made escape room and when turned around and Patricia's hands found her hips as she swayed in sync with the music. But if she's going to be honest, she didn't want them to be Patricia's hands and she hate that they didn't feel like Michelle's. But then again, she remembered she wasn't supposed to want them. She need to stop herself from thinking about someone else who didn't even do go in her sanity.

The reason she was here is because she needs to forget. Faster. Because the faster, the better.

...

Michelle took Sam to a club nearby her apartment. But if you knew her well, she didn't usually do that. She preferred quieter places where she could turn on her smolder at full power and let it work its magic. But tonight, she needed a place so deafening so she couldn't hear the loud demands of her own heart.

"I really love the atmosphere of this club!" Sam said and started dancing as soon ay they entered and hear the music, and too quick to scoop a drink from one guy she just bumped. "Come on Mich, let's dance."

She let the girl pull her to the dance floor and snaked her arms around her neck, pulling her face down to hers and starting to kiss her and the all the way down her jaw and neck. For the first time, she felt nothing, but still locked her hands around Sam's waist, thinking about how it felt all wrong. She had been doing this for a long time; that's how she got the brand and reputation. The playgirl Michelle Dee.

She loved all types of bodies, short or tall, slim or curvy, with no exception, but ever since that night, she felt it wrong to touch anyone who was not her. Anntonia. It was like her hands only had memorized the shape of the girl's silhouette and then rejected anyone else like a healthy body would reject a disease.