The kind of beautiful that doesn’t go away. Do you even know how beautiful you are? Christ. Stop looking at me! Killing me. Do you know what that does to me? Seeing you look at me like you’re half in love with me? Are you? If I write it does it make it true? So let it be written, so let it be done. Haha.
Anyway, mind ramble mind ramble mind ramble.
The only thing rambling through my mind is how much I want to grab you out of that chair and kiss you right now. Kiss you the way you need to be kissed-and kiss you often.
Oh God I must sound like such a loser. By the way, if anyone’s reading this, I should state right here that MY NAME IS SONNY AETINE. There. Nothing to hide.
Nothing to hide? Okay fine. Here it is.
I could be in love you.
There it is. I wrote it.
I’ll write it again.
I really think I could be in love with you.
Oh man, I’m going to have to burn this thing so no one gets their hands on it. Especially those wiseguy friends of yours. That Cooper guy seems like he’s ready to murder me whenever you look my way. No way I’m going to get on THAT guy’s bad side my first week in town.
Guess I’ll wait it out.
The letter ended there along with the last grip on my life as I knew it.
Trip loved me.
I held the paper to my chest, expecting a sobbing fit to come again, waiting for an all-consuming blubbering outburst to overtake my wasted soul. I’d shed more tears in the past weeks than I had in my entire life, but there was nothing left to cry about.
I thought about the people that I had loved in my life and the never-ending list of people that had left it. Everyone both here and gone... from my mother, to my family, to my friends.
I thought about Cooper, who’d loved me unconditionally, practically from the day that we had met. Who cured my hurts and built me up and never asked for anything in return.
I thought about Lisa, probably somewhere in Ohio by then, striking out and starting over with Pickford in a place so very far away. Lisa, who I shared everything with, who’d been in my life for so long, I could hardly remember a time before her. Lisa; my partner in crime, my role model, my sister, my friend.
I thought about Trip; my beautiful, blue-eyed, golden-haired god, getting ready to hop a plane to who knows, living a life of adventure, and taking me with him wherever he went in the world.
I carved out little spaces within my heart; little, lovely mausoleums where I could lock each and every one of them away inside, keep the memories safe and close to me forever.
And then it was time to go.
About the Author: T. Torrest is the author of many books, although she prays that only a handful of them will ever see the light of day. She was a child of the eighties, but has since traded in her Rubik’s Cube for a laptop, and her catholic school uniform for a comfy pair of yoga pants. Ms. Torrest is a lifelong Jersey Girl... She currently resides there with her husband and two boys.
A Note from the Author: I want to thank you for reading my story! I’m working very hard to finish “Remember When II: the Sequel”, which should be completed by June 2013 (Flip the page for a preview). If you enjoyed this book, I ask that you tell your friends, loan it out, and please, please leave a review.
Friend me on facebook or follow me on goodreads.com. I love hearing from readers! Lastly, if you’d like to drop me a personal message, my email is: [email protected] I always do my best to write back!
Thank you.
Preview Chapter
Excerpt from Remember When: the Sequel
PART TWO
2000
I made myself eat breakfast that morning, but it was difficult to do with my stomach so tied up in knots.
It had been one week since I found out Trip was in New York, five days since I finagled a press pass to attend the junket and twenty-four hours since Lisa dropped off the Armani suit she’d lent me from her designer wardrobe.
Multiply that by the nine years it had been since I’d last seen Trip, and it all added up to the thirty-seven times I felt like throwing up that morning.
I checked my reflection in the mirror, again, adjusted the thin silver belt at my waist and smoothed away some non-existent wrinkles from my slacks. The suit was sleek, black and nicer than anything hanging in my own closet, and I was grateful to have it. I’d left the blazer open, revealing a white silk shell underneath, trying for a casual look even though I was feeling anything but. I cursed my frazzled nerves and tried to get myself under control.