Takes Me Back
Not a Pick.
“Come on, Staalsy,” Max Talbot clapped me on the back. “Celebrate, man, we’re in the playoffs!”
I shrugged out from under his grasp. It was true; we had made the playoffs and I should have been celebrating. The team was, after all, in the best club in Pittsburgh. But instead of the loose, single blondes that were crowding the dance floor, my gaze was set on a very different girl on the other side of the VIP section.
“What are you looking at?” Max asked following my gaze. His eyes widened. “Damn. Nice pick, dude.”
I felt a frown spread across my face. “She’s not a pick, Max.”
“Oh? Then what would she be?”
“I know her. We grew up together in Thunder Bay,” I explained. “We were best friends.”
“Were?” Max raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “We were.”
Seeing her there, across the crowded room, I couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable Leah was. Leah Marissa Emerlee was not a party girl. I could remember any number of times when I would call her- drunk- from a high school party and she would come to take me home. I was sure some of those nights had made it into her books.
I had read her first book over the course of one week and couldn’t help but pick out the similarities her male character, Chase, had with me. I knew Leah had written about me and I had a feeling she was Elise.
Her second book had been released two weeks ago and had rocketed to the top of the New York Times Bestsellers List. I was still in the process of reading it, but I knew it was taking place right now. Chase and Elise hadn’t seen each other in a long time, much like Leah and me.
She looked good. I mean, she had always looked good- trust me, I always noticed Leah- but the years since we had last seen each other had been good to her. Leah’s light brown hair was still thick and straight and her skin wasn’t quite as tan as I remembered. Her legs were still long and toned and on display in her black dress.
I watched Leah talk with a few business men and I could tell she was talking about her books. A shit eating grin always spread across her face whenever someone brought up her writing. Even though she would deny the fact that her writing was any good, her readers knew the truth.
The smile was fixated on her face as she used her hands to illustrate her point. I found myself smiling too. That was one of her many quirks… one of the many things I had missed.
‘God, that smile.’
I shrugged out from under his grasp. It was true; we had made the playoffs and I should have been celebrating. The team was, after all, in the best club in Pittsburgh. But instead of the loose, single blondes that were crowding the dance floor, my gaze was set on a very different girl on the other side of the VIP section.
“What are you looking at?” Max asked following my gaze. His eyes widened. “Damn. Nice pick, dude.”
I felt a frown spread across my face. “She’s not a pick, Max.”
“Oh? Then what would she be?”
“I know her. We grew up together in Thunder Bay,” I explained. “We were best friends.”
“Were?” Max raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “We were.”
Seeing her there, across the crowded room, I couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable Leah was. Leah Marissa Emerlee was not a party girl. I could remember any number of times when I would call her- drunk- from a high school party and she would come to take me home. I was sure some of those nights had made it into her books.
I had read her first book over the course of one week and couldn’t help but pick out the similarities her male character, Chase, had with me. I knew Leah had written about me and I had a feeling she was Elise.
Her second book had been released two weeks ago and had rocketed to the top of the New York Times Bestsellers List. I was still in the process of reading it, but I knew it was taking place right now. Chase and Elise hadn’t seen each other in a long time, much like Leah and me.
She looked good. I mean, she had always looked good- trust me, I always noticed Leah- but the years since we had last seen each other had been good to her. Leah’s light brown hair was still thick and straight and her skin wasn’t quite as tan as I remembered. Her legs were still long and toned and on display in her black dress.
I watched Leah talk with a few business men and I could tell she was talking about her books. A shit eating grin always spread across her face whenever someone brought up her writing. Even though she would deny the fact that her writing was any good, her readers knew the truth.
The smile was fixated on her face as she used her hands to illustrate her point. I found myself smiling too. That was one of her many quirks… one of the many things I had missed.
‘God, that smile.’
3/22/13