The Millionth Mile

Chapter Two | New York City, NY (Pt. 2)

Chapter Two | New York City, NY (Pt. 2)

. . . . . .

"No. Hell fucking no."

"But Kelly," I pleaded, giving him my best puppy dog pout, "I'll be all alone this summer and I'll have nothing to do and I'll end up dying all old and wrinkly and pale by the end of August."

Kellan shot me a glimpse of his infamous "Are you shitting me?" look.

"Good luck being alone, then." Kellan said without a second thought. He then proceeded to try and close the door in my face but I reached out a hand to stop the door from doing so.

"Pretty, pretty please?" I clasped my hands together in a begging motion, and I would've gone down on my knees for greater effect, but, Reese Rosenberger doesn't go down on her knees for anybody.

Yet, at the same time, I am the loser that purposefully took a cab all the way over here.

The same loser that was currently standing outside of Kellan's apartment at 8:15 pm on a warm, humid Tuesday night, begging for Kellan to let me go on this road trip.

1 hour earlier. . .

After getting my hair retouched and chopped off a couple inches below my boobs, I went home and decided to go through with my little scheme. I rummaged through my desk to find a polaroid picture taken two New Year's Eves ago that I figured would prove to be brilliant blackmail substance.

"He won't know what hit him," I smugly said to myself as my eyes scanned the polaroid in front of me, "There's no way he can say no to this."

I then gently placed the polaroid picture in my purse and made my way out of my room.

"Hey Louise, after you finish cleaning up the kitchen, you can go home," I said to my maid as I walked past the kitchen on my way out, "You can pretty much leave early everyday, actually. I don't know why my mom makes you stay the whole twelve hours."

I mean, I get it, it'd be nice to keep everything all nice and spotless while everybody's away and all, but, dressing the bay window in the living room with a ninth layer of Windex and Swiffering the floor for the third time around is a little redundant, no? The only people that had been going in and out of the penthouse for the past two months were me and Louise, with the occasional appearance of Louise's toddler-aged son, Max.

The hardwood floors were so clean, I could basically see my reflection along its glossy surface.

Quite frankly, the penthouse's condition was more than just pristine.

"Thank you so much, Mademoiselle." Louise appreciatively said in her heavy French accent, popping up from behind the kitchen island.

"No problem." I sent her a grin and bashfully shrugged my shoulders before I continued my trek out of the penthouse.

The sun was already setting when I walked out into the humid Atlantic air and flagged down a cab. I didn't want to ask Claude to personally take me to Kellan's house because, word might get back to my mom and dad that I was hanging out with my older brother's friends at a time as decently late as this.

"Where to ma'm?" The taxi driver asked as I settled myself into the backseat of the cab.

"Can you take me to Brooklyn, please?" I answered and repeated to him the full address Kellan had given me earlier.

I called Kellan up before my hair appointment and told him that I had to drop something of Roman's off at his place. He had suspiciously burned me with incessant questions at first, but ended up reluctantly giving me the address to his apartment.