| Old Habits- continued "Yes," she said. "You chose this life for yourself, didn't you? It must get lonely as well." "Sometimes," I admitted. "Never had any other options." "Well, what would you do if you had options?" she asked. "I always wanted to go to Paris, myself." I thought hard. "I used to dream about someplace glamorous like New York. That way I could just disappear for a while, in a sea of faces." "Indeed,� she said, raising her eyebrows and smiling. �You�d love New York. But� do you ever consider going home again?" She was stirring her cocoa, carefully not looking at me. Fury and betrayal filled me. I jumped to my feet. "No, that was never a choice," I snapped. "And don't think you can trick me into going back, either." My hands clenched into fists. She made no move, following me with her eyes and blinking in surprise at my words. "I had no intention of that, Lauren. But you know it's always there if you change your mind." I glared at her. �Not for me.� She shrugged. "All right, never mind," she sighed. "But at least hear me out: No matter what happened before, people can always change. Nothing is ever final." I said nothing, my jaw set mulishly. She hesitated, then apparently decided she wasn't getting anywhere. "It's getting late. Let�s get some sleep, and we can discuss this in the morning." "I'm leaving in the morning," I hastily assured her. "Don't worry about me." "Oh, but I will anyway," she promised. "Now that I've met you, I'll probably never stop wondering where you got to." "Yeah, well, that's sweet, but I�ll be fine," I snapped. She hit on my weak spot, mentioning home, painfully reminding me that no one could be trusted. They all hurt you eventually, one way or another. And I didn't want to stick around long enough to see Amilee's calm warmth turn into disappoint-ment. I didn't think I could stand watching that happen again. Amilee let me sleep in a dusty guest room, with dozens of beautiful gilt-edged crystal figurines clustered on what looked like an antique dresser. My gaze was drawn to them as if against my will, remembering a pawn shop I passed on my way into town. No, I thought forcefully, and turned my back on the crystal. Amilee was pointing out the bathroom. Then she left me with a simple �goodnight.� Sometime after two a.m., I still paced across the room in agitation, staring at the glimmering crystal. Their shining facets whispered of an easy two hundred bucks, at least. I unconsciously reached for my pillow, pulling off the linen pillowcase and staring at it. My hands shook. I dropped it back onto the bed. I don't want to do this. I can't. I won't. But� "I've always wanted to go someplace glamorous like New York... start over�� Sighing in resignation, I grabbed the pillowcase, tumbling the crystal in and tying it up securely. Tears stung my eyes at my weakness, and yet I ignored them. I scampered toward the front door. The key was in the lock; I opened it with shaking fingers and dashed out into the night, pretending it was only raindrops that ran down my face. Some things never changed- least of all trash like me. It was her own fault she didn't realize it. Old habits die hard. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- �I can give you fifty for the whole bunch,� a paunchy, balding man leered at me. �Count yourself lucky.� �Fifty?� I cried incredulously. �This stuff is quality. Worth at least a hundred.� �When it�s as hot as this, it�s worth fifty bucks,� he snapped. �Now do you want the money, or not?� I stared down at the statues, and something in my stomach trembled. I wondered what I could sink to, when I would sell my soul for fifty measly dollars. I swallowed hard. Remember New York? A voice hissed at me. Remember the reason you left? You�re already trash- it�s not like you can be any lower. Amilee probably woke up, saw you were gone, and filed insurance claims for the crystal. The man was waiting for me to hand him the bag, pudgy fingers extended. His other hand drummed impatiently on the glass countertop. Continue |