Muriel has had her life sculpted and figured out by her well-renowned defense attorney father since she was a child. His Moto: Head down, do your schoolwork, be the best, and always do the right thing.
But what happens when she catches her father wi...
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I love to walk.
And I especially love to walk through the posh streets of Notting Hill.
But as I walk listening to my music all I hear is my father's disgusting words in my head.
And what's even more despicable is he had begged me to not say anything. This man who has always been about doing the right thing above all else asked his daughter to keep the secret of his infidelity from her mother.
I reach into the cool pocket of my rain jacket and then blast the music volume up from my phone in the hopes of drowning that hypocritical, phony of a man from my mind.
Vance Joy's song plays loudly in the drums of my ears and the heavy large raindrops begin to fall. The thoughts of my father are washed from my thoughts as the periodic large drops glaze the lightweight material of my water-proof jacket and the bill of Ollie's ball cap.
'She likes the rain.'
His comment struck me. I knew he knew this. We were the best of friends growing up. We knew everything there was to know about each other as best friends do.
How he knew I liked my cereal soggy.
How I knew his first kiss was to a girl who lived in Cornwall named Sierra when he was twelve.
He also knew I hated my freckles and I was constantly teased and bullied at school.
What happened to us?
I've pondered over this question for so long. Even now, when I smell the crisp scent of wet pine trees near Central Park I think of Ollie and wonder how we drifted so far apart.
It started off so subtly. But by the time I was nineteen and he was eighteen it was like we were no more than strangers. I've gone over the potential catalyst for our fall out again and again in the past but I can never pinpoint it. No fights, no misunderstandings, nothing.
It's like he just quit bothering to be my friend but was too kind to say it.
I realize my loud music has somehow stopped and I hadn't even noticed. Retrieving my phone from my pocket I see I've got three unread text messages and one missed call.
1 missed call OLLIE THOMAS
My heart skips a beat and my brows furrow. I stop dead in my tracks and check over my shoulder to be sure I'm not rear-ended by a fellow walker due to my sudden stop. Then I look back to my phone completely perplexed.
What the heck?
There is no way I'm returning his call.
So, I close out of my missed calls and I open my text message app.
Maggie: meet at BB's for a bite and coffee? We need a game plan for tonight!
