I felt as though I had walked into a movie.
Beatrice, on the other hand, looked completely at home.
She greeted several guests, kissed a woman on the cheek, and immediately began laughing with a group of men near the bar.
I followed her around for a while, but eventually she turned to me.
“Helen, you can’t spend the entire evening hiding behind me.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“Really? Then why have you been holding that same glass for twenty minutes?”
I looked down.
She was right.
I hadn’t even taken a sip.
“Relax,” she said. “Talk to people. Enjoy yourself. You’re allowed to have a good evening.”
“And if someone asks me something I don’t want to answer?”
“Then you don’t answer.”
She squeezed my hand.
“Remember, you don’t owe anyone your attention, your affection, or your body. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”
Those words reassured me, and I watched her disappear into the crowd.
