a/n: im trash but what's new? anyway, enjoy the loveliness that is jordan calloway, he's featured in the story!! also, fun fact, i've probably written this chapter four different times and this was the very first version so i hope i picked correctly and u guys enjoy this :)
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"Daaaamn. Who are you trying to look good for?"
She shook her head slightly at the thought, still feeling unsure about the dress. She wanted to look good, as the banquet she planned to attend would be a milestone.
She was on a seasonal internship for two summer terms with the LA Clippers during grad school and tonight would be the night that all her own and the team's hard would be acknowledged.
She invited Dinah, her best friend from her hometown, as her plus one simply because they hadn't seen much of each other over the years, with school and all, and she would literally kill Camila if she had the opportunity to offer her a night surrounded by beautiful men and didn't invite her. Her words, certainly not Camila's, as she tried to keep things between herself and the players strictly professional. Of course the job came with flirtatious comments on her physique and offers of dates but she always smiled and brushed it off.
There was one guy, though. He was persistent, yet respectful, and she appreciated it. But she fell for that technique before and that experience definitely hadn't left her, even if it was years ago.
"No one, China. Tonight's important and I just want to look good," she explained, running her fingers through her shoulder length hair. She cut it not too long ago, just for the hell of it. It gave her an older look she never knew she was searching for. But after her last relationship, she constantly found herself looking for things to change about herself. Most of the time it was subconscious but she always knew there was an underlying reason for it.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror and caught Dinah staring at her, a frown apparent on her face. "What?"
Dinah bit her bottom lip and shrugged. "It's just, I've never seen you fret this much over your appearance before. This is the third dress you've tried on and you still don't seem satisfied. What's going on, Mila?"
She despised how much her best friend knew her, the real her. She knew when something was bothering Camila, or when she just wasn't herself. Truthfully, she wished she'd been around all these years. Maybe she would have been able to convince her that nothing was actually wrong with her and that she should be happy with who she is.
"Nothing—"
"Don't give me that bullshit," Dinah interrupted. "You know, I hate that our plans never worked out the way we intended back when we were younger. Going to college together, getting shitty day jobs, etc. I missed the better part of those years and I really beat myself up sometimes for taking high school as a joke and ruining our plans of attending the same school. But I'm here now, Mila, you know that you can talk to me."
She sat down on her bed next to Dinah and said quietly, "You missed a lot."
"I know," she agreed. "Are you mad at me for it? We never talked about it, you were always kind of distant whenever we FaceTimed or texted."
"Of course not. I just..."
"What is it, Mila?"
"God, it's been three years and I still haven't moved on," she muttered, rolling her eyes at the feelings she never quite was able to get rid of.
"And it's not like I'm still in love with her because I'm not. Definitely not. It's just—she did so much damage to my ego, my self-esteem, everything. Everything about myself I have changed at one point or another to make myself more attractive, or more interesting. And for what? She's not even here to witness it. She dropped me like it was nothing and never made the effort to reconcile."
