Page 15 of The Last Sunrise

“This one.” She holds up a silver shirt, one I brought thinking I probably wouldn’t wear it, but here we are. When the light hits it, it looks black.

“Is the place fancy? Or like a club? I can’t do strobe lights, just to let you know,” I tell her, hoping she won’t ask a ton of questions.

“Not a club. It’s like a lounge-type place. I know the whole staff, so if there are too many lights, I can tell them to turn them off. I’m usually drunk as hell, so I can’t remember if the lights are strobes or not, but we will figure it out. Everyone has their phobias,” she says, handing me the shirt.

Phobias…if only.

I take my tank top off and pull the shirt over my head. It’s tight, and the sleeves are long and bell-shaped. The material isn’t see-through but gives off a shimmery vibe and is super sheer, cutting off just above my belly button.

“Can you take your bra off? No pressure if you’re not comfortable, but it’s going to be hot, and you have the boobs for it. This is Europe. Not only Europe, but summer in Europe.” She smiles.

I reach up my back and unsnap the hooks, feeling immediate freedom. Not wearing a bra is the definition of happiness. I would feel beyond uncomfortable walking around my local Target braless, but when in Mallorca…

“Hot. So hot. You won’t have to pay for a drink all night. Guaranteed.”

Amara is such a girls’ girl and I love that. I’ve always yearned for a friendship like this, where the compliments aren’t filled with comments for me to overthink. Even though I’ve only known her for a little over forty-eight hours, she makes me feel so comfortable and so safe. I had the best friend a woman could ask for, but… I shake the memory out of my head. I knew I couldn’t think about her without breaking down, and this wasn’t the time or place for my heart to break for thethousandth time. Their names being so similar doesn’t help, and the deep ache of loss will never go away. There will always be a hole there, but I’m trying to learn to shut off the endless bleeding tap when I can.

“Jeans or shorts?” I clear my throat as I ask, “And what are you going to wear?”

“Jeans. Sometimes the seats are sticky.” She shrugs, opening the yellow bookbag she brought up to my room, pulling out a burgundy tube top and black pants. The bookbag is sprinkled with little metal pins of animals—a koala, a horselike thing, a yellow animal that looks sort of like a teddy bear. There are seven of them.

She notices me staring at them, trying to figure out what they are. “They’re a K-pop group I love. It will take hours to explain, but if you’re looking for a new obsession, let me know. This is what I’m wearing; what do you think?” She starts to get dressed carelessly and, of course, her outfit is killer.

The burgundy contrasts with her bright hair and the paleness of her skin sprinkled with freckles is so stunning. Her black jeans are loose around her frame, with two wide slits across the knees.

“You look so good. I haven’t seen a tube top in a while. You’re making me want to get one.”

She smiles, admiring her reflection in the mirror. “I love a tube top moment. Do you have a ribbon or something?” she randomly asks as I pull my blue jeans over my legs and shimmy into them.

“A ribbon? No,” I tell her.

“Hmph.” She looks around the room. “Can I pretend to be you for a sec?” she asks.

I nod, having no idea what she’s up to, but excited to find out. She picks up the phone on the nightstand to call down to the concierge and asks them for a pair of black shoelaces.

“They’ll be here in ten minutes,” she says proudly.

“Really? I didn’t know I could make requests like that.”

She laughs. “You’re staying in one of the best suites for the entire summer. If you want a group of flamenco dancers at your doorstep daily, your wish is our command. Trust me, we’ve gotten much crazier requests than a pair of laces.”

Within ten minutes, a man brings the laces to the door, and I can tell he and Amara have a close relationship by the way he laughs when he realizes it’s her. He’s slightly confused as he glances around the room, but when his eyes meet mine and I wave, he lights up and waves back. They speak in Spanish, and he disappears.

She walks over to me, laces in hand.

“If you hate it tell me and I’ll use them for something else.” Her warm fingers brush my skin as she ties them together and wraps them around the bare skin of my torso, tying them again in the back. I stare in the mirror, and I love the way it looks.

“How did you even think of this?”

“I love finding cheap ways to look hot and make my friends look hot.” She shrugs.

“I love it. How random, but cool.”

“Yay.” She beams. “We should go soon. I’m going to touch my makeup up a bit, but it won’t take long. We can walk there; it’s only about ten minutes away.”

“So, how long have you been here?” I ask Amara as she sticks on little heart-shape rhinestones to the highest part of her cheekbone.

“About two years. I came for fun, stayed a little longer for instalove, then moved here for the hell of it.”

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