The thought I wouldn’t like
“I need a coffee!” I’m struggling to say as I come into the lounge to avoid any kind of question. Madison throws me another look of contempt. I deserve all of it.
She must’ve heard everything and I’m determined to speak with her and apologize if she’ll let me. If I’m not mistaken, she’s the kind of woman to get knocked down over nothing, but always gets back up. She’s proof of that day by day.
I pretend to play nice and smile weakly even to Helen who, as usual, silently serves us breakfast and keeping her due distance.
In truth, I’m dead tired, having spent the evening hiding in the clubs in the hope I wouldn’t be recognized and being able to spend a couple of hours in the real world. Meeting Holly, that West Virginia waitress, and sharing in her hangov
