005. dana

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          DANA'S LIPS ARE stained crimson, the darkest shade of red that exists in her best friend's makeup drawer

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          DANA'S LIPS ARE stained crimson, the darkest shade of red that exists in her best friend's makeup drawer.

          She's not a fan, but the look has already been marked with Carra's stamp of approval. Her said best friend smiles into the mirror, touching the tips of her long dark braids, before turning to Dana.

          Her smile fades as soon as she sees her. "Come on, smile a little."

          But, no matter how much she tries to get the corners of her lips to twitch upwards, they don't. Carra stares at her for a few more heartbeats before giving up and heading towards her closet.

          "What's got you so uptight? Better not be that asshole." Her friend's voice is subdued, lost somewhere in the closet she's currently inside. The wind from the window shakes the skirt of Dana's dress against her thighs as she peers over Carra's body to gain sight of what she's searching for.

          Her phone lights up on the dresser at that exact moment and she hates the way she almost runs towards it, her curls colliding with her cheeks upon movement.

           Her shoulders droop upon the realization that it's not a text or even a call from the one guy she's been trying to hear back from for the past two weeks. Her eyes glance up at the mirror in front of her for a split second, realizing the red lipstick is not a good look on her. She disliked it when she smeared it across her lips, but she hates it even more now. It provides a remarkable contrast against the midnight darkness of her hair and eyes. She looks away before she can highlight all of her insecurities.

           "It's more than just him," she finally answers while Carra retreats from her closet with a pair of black shiny heels and silver flats.

           She slides the flats across the floor. "They'll fit you. They're my sister's."

           As she stands up, Dana can't help herself from roaming her eyes over her. She's mesmerized by the way she pulls off the tight little black dress accessorized with a mini cardigan and three-inch heels. Her earrings and rings sparkle in the light overhead.

          She finally peels her eyes away when her friend asks, "What do you mean, it's more than just him?"

          She slips into the flats, her feet slightly larger than the shoes. "It's this whole thing with my mom."

          Carra's eyes soften with concern for a wrinkle of time before they widen once they've stolen a glance at the time on her phone. "Oh shit, it's eleven-thirty. We can get in for free if we make it before twelve," she announces, sliding a handful of the contents from her dresser into her purse and yelling her sister's name into the hallway, her voice rippling through the house. "Thalia, we're ready to go!"

          She wants to stop time for a few moments, to witness that split second of sympathy that had been sketched onto her features for a while longer. But, time speeds as it always does, beckoning her into the backseat of Thalia's old and deteriorating Camry and a night reeking of uncertainty.

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