The One Who Shot Me - Sequel To Bulletproof Love

Break of Tranquil

“Dylan!” Ashley exclaimed as she plopped down next to me on my hotel bed. My three companions had found a fairly nice (and fairly expensive) hotel overlooking the harbor and its bridge. The windows were large, the bathrooms were fancy, and the beds were comfy. I didn’t want to be bothered.

I opened my eyes, which I had previously been resting, and looked at Ashley’s face. “Yes?” I asked.

“There’s this hot new club they just opened right around the corner and we have to go!” She bounced up and down excitedly next to me on the bed.

“Why, exactly, do we have to go to this nightclub tonight? We’re going to be here for fourteen days!” I responded with an exasperated sigh.

“Yes, but...tonight’s ladies’ night. Girls get in for free. So let’s go, lazy pants!” 

“But I’m jet-lagged!” I protested. Unfortunately, my protests were, as always, to no avail.

“Dylan,” Drew said as she walked into the room. She and Ashley had a room that was connected to the one that Jessica and I were sharing. “Stop giving excuses! You need to go out, you know, live it up!”

“How about this?” Jessica walked over to the bed where the rest of us were, holding a skin-tight black dress with one sleeve and matching black ankle-boot wedges.

“Oh my God, Jessica, no. I don’t even know why I packed that thing,” I groaned.

Ashley screeched in excitement. “Oh my goodness! That would be so nice on you!”

“What it would be, is trashy,” I protested. I knew this trip was going to suck.

“Dyl,” Drew sat down on the side were Ashley wasn’t, and put her head on the pillow next to mine. “I don’t care what you say, I know you’re still upset about Tony.” I cringed at the mention of my ex-boyfriend. “We brought you on this vacation to try and free your mind of that. We are going out tonight. You are going to get drunk, and you are going to like it. Tomorrow, we can do whatever it is that you want, even if it only consists of sitting around the hotel sulking. Okay?”

I looked deep into my sister’s eyes before I gave her a response. I hated how straight-forward she was about these things. I didn’t want anyone to acknowledge the fact that I was missing Tony. Hell, at that time, I couldn’t even tell myself that I was missing Tony. But for once, I choked back my pride and responded, “Okay.”

“Can I do your hair, Dylan?” Jessica asked me enthusiastically. 

“Can I do makeup?” Ashley chimed in with the same caliber of excitement.

I looked at Drew, who shrugged, then I chuckled a bit (and oh God, did it feel good to laugh, even in the slightest bit), then back at the other two girls. “Why not?”

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At 11:30, roughly an hour and a half later, our quartet walked into the club, which was called Abby’s, with a full aura of self-confidence. I felt great. And I think I looked great, too. Jessica had convinced me to get rid of that “dysfunctional ponytail I always wear,” and she’d straightened out my curly brunette locks. The fact that I had been growing out the sides of my head made my straightened hair look like it was cut in layers; the sides reached down to my shoulders, and the rest varied in length from my breast to my waist. The dress I had on wasn’t skimpy or trashy at all; it showed off my best assets.

As for the women I was with, they looked just as great. Ashley was sporting a black pencil skirt and a purple flowy shirt with matching sequined purple pumps. Black and purple smoky eyeshadow grazed her eyelids. Her hair was left long and wavy. Drew wore black skinny jeans, which was even scandalous for her. As for a shirt, she wore a silver strapless top, and simple black wedges adorned her feet. She looked amazing, and I wondered why she didn’t dress this way more often.