Your Healing Touch

Chapter 11

"Jas!" My best friend's voice gathered my attention.

"What?" I asked partially annoyed.

"Excuse me, but I thought you agreed to go out with me. You've been distracted all night," she accused. Her arms folded after her statement.

"No I haven't," my denial strong.

"Sure you haven't been. You're thinking about him again aren't you?"

I scoffed. "No." I definitely was.

"You can't lie to me. I see right through you," she said with narrowed eyes.

"Well then what am I thinking right now? Since you know everything," I snapped.

Angela took no offense to my tone. We'd been friends long enough to speak candidly to one another. We were able to be ourselves around each other.

"Fine, if you want to keep pretending you're actually with me then pretend harder," she ordered.

Guilt flooded me. I told her I wanted to go out and instead I was sulking. That wasn't fair to her.

"Ok, ok," I relented. "I can't believe I let you talk me into wearing this," I commented for the tenth time tonight while crossing my arms over myself trying to cover up.

In place of my typical loose fitting and layered look I wore an olive green form fitting, long sleeve body suit. Even though most of my body was covered I felt naked. It fit me like a second skin and left nothing to the imagination. The only way Angela had gotten me out of my house was banning me from looking in the mirror before we left. I mean, I knew it was tight but I didn't get a chance to see myself in it so I had just taken her word that it wasn't as bad as I thought.

"Girl you look so good! I almost forgot what a bangin' body you have! It's a shame you try to hide it all the time."

My jovial mood darkened tremendously after Angela's last statement. It was so similar to something Charles had said to me years ago. I could still hear his voice in my head.

It's a shame you try to hide it under all those ill fitted clothes.

Yes, that's why I felt so exposed in my outfit. Charles had made it so that I hated getting attention for my body. Tonight I'd gotten more stares and lustful looks than I'd ever dreamed possible.

Angela gave every man who looked like he was even thinking about approaching us her most evil look. It mostly served its purpose and the ones who mustered up enough courage to come toe to toe with her eventually left with their tails tucked firmly between their legs. It would have been humorous had I not been the most uncomfortable I'd been in ages.

Angela had taken us to an upscale bar/restaurant. By the time we started our dinner Angela's reputation had made its way around the restaurant. I was almost able to relax and fully enjoy myself.

"Hey," Angela said noticing my change in demeanor, "we can go if you really don't want to be here."

She was looking at me seriously which was somewhat of a rarity. She was such an amazing friend, at times I didn't feel like I deserved her. She was so vibrant and fun and free. I was the wet blanket she carried around with her everywhere. Putting my lingering discomfort away I decided to make the most of the rest of our night.

"No, Angela. I'm ok...really," I added when I saw her preparing to argue with me.

We spent the remainder of our dinner cracking jokes and talking about our love life...or rather our lack of one.

"The next dude that tries to play me, I swear I'm going to jail Jasmine," Angela threatened. I threw my head back in laughter.

"You think I'm joking? I'm dead serious...get it? Dead serious...as in he'll be dead if he wastes my time," she dragged out her joke.