The Crazy American

Chapter 7

The awaited festival opens today. Allie is bouncing off the walls in my room as she gets me all dolled up. She curls my hair and puts it half up. I do my make up. Winged eyeliner and a classic smokey eye to go with it. I slip into my dress and glance at the mirror.

"I look beautiful for once!" I laugh and spin.

"You are always beautiful," she puts her hands on her hips. I stick my tongue out at her. "Elliot will love it!" She jumps up and down. I bite my lip.

"We are friends Allie." I stress friends again. She rolls her eyes.

"Come on let's get going."

We hop in her BMW and head into London. The whole city center is blocked off. Tents are lined up along the side streets. We park as close as possible and walk to the center. The sun shines warmly against my skin. Music echoes softly through the streets. We make our way along the rows of vendors along the streets. Allie buys a trinket here and there until we reach the city center. A large dance floor is placed in front of a small stage. A pianist sits behind a beautiful grand piano, her fingers producing a soft enchanting song. I glance around the people filled square. The Queen sits on a decorated throne along with the King. Allie walks over to a man in a pressed suit. I amble about, looking at little things here and there when a familiar face catches my eye.

Elliot stands dressed in a perfectly fit suit. He idly chats with an older fellow. Biting my lip, I take a deep breath and walk over to him. He turns and smiles at me politely.

"Hey Elliot,"

"Hello Rose, are you enjoying the festival?" His tone is light but oddly formal.

"I love it!" I exclaim.

"I'm glad," he chuckles. The music changes to a more fast paced song.

"You should dance," I blurt out. Elliot looks at me with surprise. "No one's dancing and you look like you could use some more fun. Not that you aren't having fun," I babble on. He laughs.

"I don't dance."

"Elliot, she's right. You should dance," the man interjects smirking a devious smile.

"Fine." He sighs jokingly. I grab his arm and lead him to the dance floor. He paused for a moment in the center of the floor. I look up at him. Elliot gently grabs my hand and rests his other on my back. In a whirl we are spinning to the beat. I giggle as we waltz around.

"You look lovely," he says, looking down at me.

"You aren't too bad yourself. You look good in a suit." I blush. He twirls me around and brings me back into his arms. The touch of his body makes my nerves scream for more. His eyes never leave my face. I shy away from his gaze and look down. He releases me into another spin. As I come back in, he dips me gracefully. His eyes locked in mine. I look at his lips and bite my own. He lowers his face towards mine. Our lips almost touching making my breathing hitch. I close my eyes and move closer.

He leans away and straightens me back up. I blink at him trying to register what happened.

"I'm sorry, Rose," he whispers and walks away without another word.

"Elliot?" I call after him. He slides between the line of reporters that are now lined up along the edge of the floor. They snap pictures relentlessly. I bite my lip. I try and follow him, but the reporters stand firmly between him and I. He disappears into the growing crowd.

"Fuck," I hiss and retreat behind the nearest pavilion. I slip into an ally and lean against the wall. Way to go, Rose. You fucked that one up. Standing there like "oh kiss me." And he ran for the hills. Great.