“You know I’m going to get into trouble,” I tell her. Her face drops as she looks at me. She pulls out her phone and presses on the screen.
“Hi, Mrs. Stone. Sorry for waking you, but Ryan and I are really tired so I think we're going to grab a hotel for the night.”
My mouth drops as she blatantly lies to my mom.
“Yeah… no, I’ve got it covered. Okay, see you tomorrow.”
Dylan puts down her phone and starts laughing. I’m staring at her, shocked that she just did that.
“There, now you aren’t late.”
“I can’t believe you did that.”
Dylan shrugs and looks at me quickly. “I'm willing to do just about anything if it means I can party with Hadley Carter.”
“You’re freaking crazy, Dylan Ross.”
“Yes, but you love me.” She drives us to the hotel. It’s an expensive one with two valets. Something I’ve only read about in books. Two men with long black coats and hats open the car doors. One extends his hand, helping Dylan out. The doorman pulls open the main door and smiles as we pass by. I’ve never had such treatment before.
I follow Dylan up to the front desk. She asks for a room for the night. She pulls out her credit card that her dad gave her. I hate that I can’t help her pay. She’s always footing the bill for me.
The clerk hands Dylan two room cards and she gives me the spare. Now I can ditch this after-party and hang out in the room. Dylan also gives her name for the list that Alex said would be waiting. She’s handed another key and quickly turns for the elevators.
I’m standing in front of gold elevators… gold. When the car dings, signaling its arrival, Dylan starts bouncing on the balls of her feet. She’s way too excited. She skips in, causing the other patrons getting in to look at her funny. I shrug and skip in behind her.
We stop on the thirty-fifth floor. I step out first and look left and right. I motion for her that it’s safe. She slides against the wall until the next opening, waving her hand that the coast is clear. We started doing this at about the sixth floor, pretending we are spies. I come around the corner and a door opens, causing Dylan to start laughing. She falls into me, gripping my arm, just like the last time she had gotten drunk and I had to babysit her.
We straighten up as an older couple walks by us. Their stern look is enough to keep our faces from cracking under pressure. They watch us as we walk to Hadley’s room, probably wondering if we even belong on this floor. Dylan does, but definitely not me.
“I’m only going to stay for a few minutes, okay?” Dylan rolls her eyes as she knocks on the door.
“You’ll have fun.” I can’t respond because the door swings open and a very tall and extremely large man is standing there glaring at us.
“Names?” his voice is deep and rough, like he’s been screaming all his life.
Dylan gives him our names and he moves aside to let us in. This room is larger than my house. The people here don’t even take up an inch of the space. I don’t know if women like this kind of stuff, but I can tell you I’d never decorate my apartment like this; way too much gold.
Dylan spots one of the girls she was talking to earlier and heads toward her. I guess she thinks I’m okay by myself. An older lady walks by and tells me to help myself to food and drinks. I see others eating so I make a plate, grab a soda and sit down away from everyone. Other than the guy at the door I’m the only male in the room.
I’m trying not to watch the clock, but I can’t help it. I’m bored and this is just awkward. All these women are giggling and talking fashion and I could really use the sleep. Dylan is in an in-depth conversation so I really don’t want to bug her. I pull out my phone and text that I’m heading to the room.
“Leaving so soon?” I turn and find Hadley… a girl I didn’t know existed until tonight, behind me. She caught me sneaking out of her party, not that I think she’d miss me.
“I was just going to my room.” My hand finds the back of my head but I quickly pull it down remembering how much Dylan hates it when I pull at my hair.
“I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I’m Hadley Carter,” she says extending her hand. When my hand touches her, I feel a jolt, like when you rub your socks on carpet and touch someone to shock them. I drop her hand immediately and put it in my pocket. “Would you like to go outside and talk? I’ve had a chance to speak to everyone but you.”
“Oh, I’m just here with my friend; she’s your fan.”
“And you’re not?”
I feel like I’ve been caught red-handed in the cookie jar. I didn’t mean to offend her. But the look on her face shows that I did.
“I’m—“
“It’s okay, we can still talk.” I nod for fear of hurting her feelings anymore. My luck, she’d write a song about some rude boy she met in Jackson who didn’t like her music but had the nerve to show up at her after-party and eat her food. She turns away and takes a few steps before looking at me from over her shoulder. I step forward and she smiles.