I Hate You, I Love You

Chapter 3: The Accident

Lauren's POV

It was hot, humid, and there was no breeze. It reminded me of Florida. I slid the window open in an attempt to cool the place down. My studio apartment felt like an oven and I was having a hard time concentrating because it was so hot. I watched sweat drip down my arm to land on the windowsill. Ugh.

To make matters worse, I was in a funk. I hadn't heard from Dinah in a week and I was bothered by the fact that it bothered me so much. I didn't want to ask Ally about Dinah because she would start asking questions and I wanted to keep whatever was happening to myself for a while. What was I thinking agreeing to a date in the first place? She annoys me to no end.

I tried to shake this weird feeling off by going back to the piece I was working on. It was a charcoal piece I was doing for a gallery opening and it looked...like shit. I checked my phone. Nothing. Maybe a walk would help my mood. I pulled my ID and credit card out of my wallet and slid them into my back pocket.

Because my apartment was located in the heart of downtown Long Beach, the streets were alive. Living so close to the waterfront had its perks. For instance, the waterfront attracted a lot of people which made for great people watching. I took a seat at a bench conveniently placed under a large tree.

It was always weird to see adults cruising around on roller blades. I thought those things were for children. I suppose as we get older we try to reconnect with our childhood anyway we can. Luckily, I'm not at that point yet and if I ever purchase roller blades as an adult I'll slap myself.

A shadow loomed over me then. Weird, considering I was sitting in the shade. I looked up to see a familiar blonde with a blank expression on her face. "Can I help you?"

"Remember me?"

"I can't say that I do."

"Wow." She put a hand on her hip. Uh oh. "You kicked me out of your bed last weekend."

"Oh. Yes, you're..." I couldn't recall her name. Did she ever tell me her name?

"Amy."

"Right. Amy. How are you?"

She laughed sardonically. "Are you serious?"

I sighed. Why was this happening to me right now? "Help me out here, Amy. What is it you want from me?"

"An apology would be nice."

"Okay," I nodded. "You're right, you deserve an apology. I apologize for that, I do. I was intoxicated, not in the best mood, and that morning I had somewhere to be."

"Fuck you, Lauren."

"What?" Did I miss something?

"You never paid me!"

Oh my gosh. Was this really happening? "Paid you?"

"You drew me." Both hands were on her hips now. "I came over because my agent said you called him. That you needed to draw someone. I don't work for free, Lauren."

"Did we...?"

"No way! I'm not that kind of girl."

I felt absolutely giddy, like I could run circles around her. I was thrilled we hadn't done anything regrettable. "That's great to hear. Who's your agent?"

"Marc Taylor."

"Thanks, Amy. You'll get paid."

She smirked and flung her hair over her shoulder before walking away. That night had been on the back of my mind because I couldn't remember what had happened and I felt like crap for kicking her out the way I did. In a much better mood than before, I headed back to my apartment and worked the day away.