On the Mountain (Follow your Bliss #5) Read Free Page A

herself and slipping one of the pumps on.
    Baskia sighed. “Retail therapy.”
    London teetered in the Louboutins
as she made her way to the full-length mirror, trying to avoid the disaster on
the floor: tangles of clothing, shopping bags, scarves, and bras. She admired
the long lines of her legs, made more slender by the studded, white heels.
“Girlfriend, if I had the opportunity to go to an Ivy League school—not that
I’d even get in—I’d jump at it. Unless your mother is Kate Moss and not that
bitch you call Mom, eventually your looks will fade. Modeling, it’s for the
young. And right now, we are young.”
    “It’s not even that,” Baskia
said, rolling over and dismissing London’s sharp tongue.
    “What, you don’t want to be a model
anymore?”
    “No, I do,” Baskia said not
entirely convinced she believed her own words.
    “Because, just like the waitlist
at college, there’s a long line of girls who would do anything for your
position. You’re living the dream.”
    She wasn’t used to London getting
self-righteous; or rather, she was, it just wasn’t usually directed at her. She
was Baskia’s go-to for fashion advice, her party partner, and an all-around
fun-time.
    “It’s not that I don’t want to go
to college, and it’s not that I don’t still want to model. I do. I know that
I’m lucky too. I suddenly feel like I’m stuck in neutral. I don’t know where to
go or what to do. No one thing seems like it will please everyone.”
    “That’s stupid,” London said with
a yawn.
    “What?”
    “Don’t try to please people.”
    “Well, I’m including myself in
the umbrella term people .” What do I want? She heard a small
voice inside ask.
    “Whatever. Your family and your
money, there are so many rules and such bullshit involved. Blah, blah, blah.
Lucky for me I don’t have that problem.”
    “Exactly. You just do what you
want to do when you want to do it. The problem is I don’t know what I want to
do.”
    A mischievous smile crept across
London’s lips. “I know what you need.”
    “I’m too tired.”
    “I know what’ll wake you up.”
    “I—”
    “You have no excuses. Unless of
course you want me to wear those heels out to the Dome tonight?” London said,
referring to the invitation to promote a hot new label at a club.
     
     
    Hours later, Baskia climbed into
the cab, behind London. The mid-August, daytime heat still hung in the air and
immediately clung to her skin. Despite their usual pre-club routine of primping
to loud music and downing a glass, or a bottle, of champagne, Baskia couldn’t
pull off a party mood.
    “I really hope my hair doesn’t
frizz,” London said, smoothing her tresses. “Since Mommy and Mellie aren’t here
to chaperone, I suggest you get your groove on. This might be the last time.
When do classes start, in a couple weeks?”
    At the mention of the two people
in her life she was most annoyed with, no, angry with, she nodded. That little
nudge was all she needed to party harder than usual; if only to push against
the heaviness that had settled over her since she agreed to go to Columbia.
    “You’re right. Now that I’ve
resigned myself to college and the dull, scripted life my family has planned
for me, I might as well let loose while I can.”
    “There’s the Baskia I know and
love.” London laughed, squeezing her arm. “So, if I see Nels, dibs. ‘Kay.”
     “Do you really like him?”
    “Who, Nels? Sure. He’s hot and
hooked up, what’s not to like?”
    Baskia worried about her friend
and her lack of self-control. Although they were no strangers to the partying,
she’d managed to pull back when she needed to, sort of. She couldn’t think
about it further as London ushered her out of the cab and past the velvet ropes
of the club.
    The cavernous room was a contrast
of shadow and neon, flashing light. The volume of the music penetrated Baskia’s
skin, giving her an instant headache. But she was there to shrug off the