“Right. And not to mention you’re so damn depressing lately. You’re not gonna try to off yourself again, are you?”
“Mia.” I shook my head, but really, wasn’t very surprised that something like that came out of her mouth—it had no filter. “I’m just tired. Have fun, don’t do anything too crazy.” I don’t know why I wasted my breath because she would never take my advice, and I probably couldn’t imagine the crazy things she did when she went out every night.
I headed back up the stairs but didn’t make it far before I heard Mia running up, her heels clicking against the wood. She grabbed my arm, continuing to pull me in the direction of my room. I gave her a confused look but followed anyway, collapsing onto my bed as soon as we entered my room, and Mia went in the direction of my closet.
I heard her sliding hangers across the racks of clothes that were crammed into my closet, and she finally came out after about five minutes with an armful of an array of dresses, skirts, and tops. “Take whatever you want,” I said with a wave of my hand, “but could you at least return them this time?”
“Oh, these aren’t for me.” She dropped the pile at the end of my bed and began holding clothes up in front of me. “These are for you. You’re going out with me tonight,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Don’t even try to argue, you’ll be wasting your breath.”
“Really? Are you gonna drag me out of here if I refuse or something?”
“If I need to.” She shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head at the pair of black leather pants that she was holding before throwing them back in the direction of my closet.
“Mia, why would you want me to go out with you? You said it yourself; I’m boring. I’m sure I would just ruin your good time.” I hated that I actually sounded boring, and I hated that I was actually considering going out with her, even though I wasn’t actually going to tell her that. I really didn’t want to sit around here all alone, but I knew if I went with Callie and Zoey they would have been worried about me the whole time, and I didn’t want that. At least Mia didn’t seem to feel sorry for me.
“Della, you’re not boring all the time. You just used to be a lot of fun. I was so jealous of you.”
“Jealous?” My eyebrows shot up as she tossed a denim skirt at me, followed by a coral colored racer-back tank top. Well, that was one word I never expected to hear from Mia when it came to me. I never saw jealousy from her. Pity—yes, distaste—most definitely, but I never thought she was jealous of me and I had no idea why she would be.
“Yes, jealous.” She leaned forward, never stopping as she undid the clip that was holding my hair. “You were always so carefree, doing whatever you wanted, no matter what Lillian thought or wanted you to do. You always had so much fun, while I had to be the one that behaved. Perfect grades, perfect outfits made up of boring khakis and collared shirts. Perfect everything. It was so much pressure, until finally, I just couldn’t handle it anymore.” She paused, running her fingers through my hair before grabbing my makeup bag off the nightstand and handing it to me. “I wanted to be more like you, well, more like you used to be.” She tugged on my arm, pulling me off of the bed and handing me the outfit she selected as she pushed me toward the hallway bathroom. “So, tonight, I’m gonna help you get a little bit of your old self back. I promise we won’t get too crazy.”
I BLINKED MY eyes open, glancing at the clock to see that it was almost two o’clock in the afternoon. Judging by the pounding in my head, I had one hell of a hangover, which really wasn’t surprising since the past few nights I kept getting lost in a bottle.
“What the fuck?” I jumped back, my body teetering on the edge of my bed as I stared back at the redhead that was glaring at me. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest that was still covered in a sequined tank top, and all of the memories from last night came rushing back in a slight haze.
“Umm…what’s going on…?” I scratched at the scruff on my chin as I tried to recall her name. I at least remembered that I met her at the strip club Nate had dragged me to last night. He was convinced that booze combined with strippers was the perfect thing to take my mind off of my dad and Della, and really, it worked. After consuming about half of a bottle of vodka, I couldn’t think straight, and that’s what I needed.
Red glared back at me as I continued to sit there, wracking my brain for her name. She got up with a huff, sliding her body off of my bed, and then bent down to pick up a skirt that had landed on the floor sometime last night. As soon as she stood up, I noticed the tattoo on her hipbone, right above the see-through panties she was wearing. At least those were still in place, so I guess nothing too major happened.