Cierra sucked air between her teeth, continuing to preen. “I look . . .”
“Mm-hmm.”
For a moment, she felt an impulse to send Harry a picture of herself, like a reflex. Luckily, these moments were gradually happening less and less. But damn it, she looked good; she had to show it off to someone, so she did the normal thing and postedit on her Instagram story. When her phone buzzed not even a minute later, she was secretly hoping it might be Harry saying,Oh my god! You look incredible! How could I have been so stupid as to have lost a timeless beauty like you?
But it was just Lisa.
Lisa: Hello?? Why won’t you answer my calls!? How’s the job search?
Ugh, Cierra thought and threw her phone on the bed. While she wanted to talk to her sister, she knew that if they chatted, it would open up an entire conversation about how Cierra needed to “just focus” and “think about the position that gave her the most options,” and she wasn’t in the headspace for a lecture right now.
Cierra: It’s good, have an interview coming up. I’ll call you tomorrow.
“You’re leaving the party with a guy tonight. I can feel it,” Mia said. “The date last night was just a warm-up.”
Cierra scoffed and grabbed her jacket. “Don’t think that’s gonna happen,” she said in a flat tone. Mia scrunched her face.
“I guess you didn’t have many boyfriends before Harry, huh?” Mia asked curiously. “There was that one guy in college who was the literal worst, what was his name again, Colton? But besides him, anyone else?”
Cierra fiddled with her outfit some more, thinking. “Not really, I guess. I had a boyfriend in high school, but, in terms of serious relationships, I guess just those two.”
Mia looked at Cierra with a sad expression. “Oh, honey, I didn’t realize.”
“Realize what? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re a serial monogamist.” She said it as if it were a disease with no cure.
Cierra just rolled her eyes. Unlike Mia, casual had historically never been her thing. Not like she judged; if anything, she’d just never had the opportunity.
“Hey, just saying, maybe a hoe phase would be good for you.” Mia straightened up, looking for her purse.
“Maybe you’re right. But I don’t know, the thought of being with someone else again, God, even thinking about it . . .” She paused; she could feel her body heating. “I’m not as confident as you.”
“Cee, you know I love you. And I know it was . . . mutual . . . but I see the way you look off into the distance half the day.” Mia widened her eyes and frowned like a cartoon character. The impersonation was objectively funny, but it still kind of made Cierra want to slap Mia in her stupid, beautiful face.
“What do you even miss about him?” Mia continued, exasperatedly. “Listen, I had nothing against the guy, but I always thought he was kinda, I don’t know, blah?”
Cierra was a little taken aback by her friend’s candor, feeling defensive about her choice of partner. “Some of us like stability, okay? And Harry was a great boyfriend. He was—”
“The polar opposite of Colton?”
Cierra shot Mia a warning glance, and Mia held up both her hands. “Okay, backing down.” An awkward silence descended between the pair, and instead of responding directly, Cierra noted they needed to leave soon if they wanted to arrive on time.
On the way over, Mia’s new “friends” sent a message that they weren’t going to make it after all, but to still have a blast.
“So, we literally won’t know anyone?” Cierra groaned as they pulled up to the address.
“Think of it like an adventure,” Mia said cheerfully. The pair stepped out of the car. “It’ll be fun.”
Easy for you to say, Cierra thought.
There was a couple waiting outside the building and probably headed to the same party; Cierra could already see that what they were wearing cost more than her whole life put together. As the women approached, the couple turned their attention toward them and smiled politely.
“Hi.” The woman stuck her hand out with a warm, almost suggestive, smile. “I’m Zelda. Zelda Lawson.”
Cierra nearly cut herself on one of the woman’s rings, a substantial emerald-cut ruby set in a silver base. She had tattoos covering her fingers, and she’d dyed her hair a mix of fire-engine red and violet purple. She had subtle Botox and filler; a less trained eye would believe she was just aging well. Her outfit was comprised of a black corset over an oversized green shirt, black leather pants, and punk platform boots covered in spikes that went up her ankles.
“Uh, hi . . . you look amazing,” Cierra said. “I’m Cierra, and this is Mia.”
