Club Princess - Nicole James Page 0,40
on my face. I find the bed is empty, and I bolt upright. Before I can even call out for Memphis, my gaze falls on his pendant spread out on his pillow.
It’s his sign to me that he’s left. But is it more? Perhaps it’s his gratitude for our time together, perhaps a sign of his love, or perhaps a sign that he’ll be back. Or maybe it’s to tell me that he won’t ever return.
I pick it up and hold it in my hand. I don’t know if I want to clutch it to my heart or throw it at the wall. The sobs overtake me, shaking my shoulders, and I hold the necklace close, knowing I’ll wear it against my heart every day until I see him again. And if I don’t ever see him, maybe I’ll wear it for the rest of my life.
A melody plays in my head of an old tune about a sailor that never stays long because his life, his love, his lady, is the sea.
That’s Memphis, only his love isn’t the sea, it’s the open road.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Lola—
It’s been weeks since Memphis left. I should be over him by now. My every waking hour should no longer be consumed by thoughts of him. But that’s not the case; I think of him all the time. I press my face to the backseat passenger window watching the town of Durango flash past.
“Earth to Lola.”
My eyes shift to Josie in the drivers seat.
“What’s up with you today?”
“Today? She’s been like this since New Orleans,” Katie adds.
“Leave her alone, you two. Maybe she’s worried about her brother,” Amy defends me from the seat next to me. She reaches over to squeeze my hand.
“That’s not it,” I admit. “But, yes, I am worried about him.”
“So, what gives?” Josie asks, taking her eyes from the road to meet mine in the rearview mirror.
I shrug.
Her eyes get big. “This is about a guy. I’d know that look anywhere. Wait, is this about that Nomad your father sent to get you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Katie huffs.
“Is it?” Amy asks.
“Everybody just quit bothering me.” I fold my arms.
“Fine.” Katie holds her hands up. “God forbid we care.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Guys, what are we going to do tonight, just drive around? I thought we were going to have some fun?” Amy asks.
“We could go to a movie,” Katie suggests.
“We’ve seen them all,” I reply, halfheartedly.
Josie meets my eyes in the rearview. “I know something we haven’t done before.”
“What’s that?” Amy asks.
“You’ll see,” Josie replies.
Fifteen minutes later, she pulls the car in a gravel lot next to a house on the edge of town.
I rouse from my memories of Memphis, to look up at the old wooden sign.
“Ms. Mirvana’s? What is this place?” I ask. Everyone is already climbing out of the car, laughing. Katie is jumping up and down.
“I’ve always wanted to come here!” Amy shouts.
I climb out, and spot some writing on the glass window. “Psychic? You’re kidding me, right?”
“It’ll be fun. Come on,” Josie loops her arm in mine, dragging me forward.
Another sign says its twenty-five dollars for a fifteen minutes reading.
“Twenty-five bucks? I’ll wait in the car,” I pull back.
“I’ve got you covered. Come on.” Josie tugs me along.
We walk in, finding ourselves in a tiny entry with two wing-backed chairs and a counter. The smell of incense hits me like a brick wall. I make a fake choking noise, and Josie elbows me in the ribs. “Oww.”
“Hush. Here she comes.”
A normal looking woman comes out from a back room, and smiles. “Hello, ladies. How may I help you tonight?”
I swear her gaze lingers on me. She’s pretty, somewhere in her mid forties, I’d guess. She has long dark curly hair, the kind that rides the border between ringlets and frizz. She’s rail thin, with a white lace top and a big crystal pendant.
“My friend, Lola, would like a reading,” Josie says, shoving me forward.
I give her a death glare, then turn to face the woman. “Hi.”
“Well, hello, Lola. Of course.”
Josie digs out the cash, passing it over, and Ms. Mirvana motions us to what looks like her dining room table.
“Please sit.”
We all gather around, filling the seats.
Mirvana smiles at me. “You have such beautiful hair.”
“Thank you.” I’m not sure how this works or what I’m supposed to do, so I just lace my fingers to stop my nervous energy.
She reaches over and lays a hand on my clasped ones. “You have a good