He turned back around and looked at me, "What?"
"I'll go," I whispered.
He wrapped his arms around me in a great bear hug, "Baby, I knew you'd do this for me," he laughed.
I wasn't doing it for him, it was for Richie.
"Yeah," I lied as I tried to hold on to talk.
He lifted my chin up, "You stay strong. I'll see you in a bit. Go get your stuff, we've got a tour to go on!"
He excitedly let me go as I went around the bus. I saw the guys all talking, but with no Richie in sight.
I decided to let him be as I walked down the gravel road to my car, the gravel crunching under my feet.
My car, a newly boughten '68 Camaro with blue and white stripes and a convertible top, sat sunbathing in the warm July day. She was a beauty. I'd only had her for about a month, but not even a speck of dirt caressed the sleek blue body. She was pure horsepower.
I got in and turned the key. Her motor was like a hushed puma, ready to pounce as I put her in gear and went on my way, the wind blowing in my face.
At my apartment, I went in immediately to grab the clothes from my closet. Changing, I decided to wear an old Aerosmith t-shirt, short denim shorts, and a worn out pair of cowboy boots, and matching cowboy hat. I was set to go.
I walked over to my dresser, swiping away all the dust that covered my jewelry box. For a girl, I hardly ever wore jewelry. Usually on fancy dates or for work is when I actually wore it. I might as well bring it with me.
After taking out my good jewelry, I spotted a necklace that was shining off of the mirror. I reached into the box and found it was an old necklace that Richie had given me a few years back. I had worn it when I went to prom with Jon because Richie is older then me and Jon.
I took the necklace and studied every rhinestone that was attached to the cold metal. They were in a heart shape, following an "R" and a “K” with a gold band.
I reached up and put it around my neck. The cold metal made me shiver at first, but then put me at ease. I looked at myself in the mirror and realized, I was in love again.
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