Page 114 of Girls Night
Like I had told her earlier, she really was beautiful. I realized then that I was going to miss her when I left this city for good. The thought of never seeing her again made something in my stomach clench, and I wondered at it. I barely knew her. We weren’t even in the same ballpark, as far as class went. She was rich, special, professional, no matter how…. eccentric? That was the word. Eccentric. She could afford to be eccentric.
Me? I was still white trash. All I had were my looks and my tricks. Street sense, sure, but that was it. A walking, talking doll.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, pulling me away from my inner ramblings.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You looked worried. Here, look at this.” She held up her phone, and I sat down on the sofa that was next to her fancy blue chair.
Our fingers touched briefly, sending a weird hum through me as I took the phone from her. The phone was huge, heavy, and probably cost a fortune. On the large screen was a picture of me, taken earlier from our last shoot. The effects of the makeup and whatever effect she had started applying to the photo made me look exotic, like looking at something you’d see at some French art show.
I looked over at her. Her smile was wide, showing her white, straight teeth, and revealing a dimple on her right cheek.
“Nice start, right?” She sipped her tea, eyeing me and the phone.
I nodded slowly as I looked at the picture again. “You’re fucking brilliant, Mia. Truly.”
Of course, she then became uncomfortable, fidgeting and looking away. I understood all too well. I hated attention on me, hated praise—which I rarely got, anyway. Hated when people stopped long enough to see past reality, that I was a person, that I had a heart, that later they’d see me as I did and know I was a big, fat fake.
Mia was brilliant, though, and sheshouldbe praised. Plus, I still felt like a complete ass about the whole “reading” thing when we had first met. God, I practically acted rabid when she asked me if I read books. Another thing about myself I hated: assuming people thought I was stupid just because of what I did for a living, or lack thereof.
I sighed. I needed a drink. “Hey! I have an idea. Let’s go get a drink downtown.” I handed her back her phone, noticing the dark sky outside from the windows across the room. It was going on nighttime, the sun having set a while ago.
When I turned my gaze back to her to hear her response, I stopped in my tracks. She was white as a ghost, her fingers clenched tightly around her mug.
“Mia? What is it?” I asked her, totally confused.
She didn’t say anything, just put her cup down. “Um… I’m sorry. I’m not feeling good. Maybe some other time for drinks? Plus, it’s late.” She wouldn’t look at me, just stared ahead.
Something was off. Maybe she was a recovering alcoholic and didn’t go out?
Was itmeshe didn’t want to be seen with? That was probably it.
Foolish Devon, thinking that someone like Mia would go for fucking drinks with a whore.
“I get it. Well. Right, so. Tomorrow then? What time?” I stood up and walked over to the counter to get my stuff but stopped when I felt Mia’s touch on my arm.
“It’s not you,” she whispered. “It’s not you, Devon.”
I shrugged off her hand with a little too much force than I intended and grabbed my bag, pulling the strap over my shoulder. I didn’t turn to look at her, I was too pissed. Too ashamed for the first time in my life. I was who I was. This was my life.
And it hurt like a bitch.
“Whatever, Mia. I’ll see you around.”
She called me back as I clicked the button that would let me out the front floor, but I ignored her and stepped out into the cold night, shutting the door softly behind me.
Chapter Five
Mia
I liked her. I was attracted to her. She meant something to me. And I lost her. I messed up. Bigtime.
After Devon left, I curled up on the sofa and cried so hard, I thought I’d choke. I was sick of myself, the fear, the dread. I hated it. If only I could be normal. If only I could function like everybody else in this world. But I just. Couldn’t. Do. It.
About an hour after feeling sorry for myself, I grabbed my phone and opened up my messenger, finding Devon’s number and re-reading our texts. I stayed like that, frozen in place and staring at her name for a good five minutes before I typed a message.
Mia: I’m sorry. I want to talk. Can you come by? There are things… I would like you to know.
