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“We got to be really good friends, and well... we sort of hooked up. It got weird afterward, and he made it clear he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
“Oh, Holland,” Mandi says softly. “I’m so sorry. Do you know why?”
I shake my head. “No. He just... ghosted me, basically. Ignored my texts. Stopped talking to me.”
“Did you love him?”
It’s a fair question, but not one I think I can answer. Or maybe I’m just fooling myself and don’t want to admit how I really feel. I do know that I cared about him more than I’ve ever cared about any guy.
“I’m not sure,” I tell her, hedging. “I know I really cared about him.”
She bites down on her lower lip, then studies me. “I’m really sorry.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me that I shouldn’t give up?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “That I should go after my man no matter what the cost?”
Mandi flops down on my bed and stares at the ceiling. “No. Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be.”
“Wait, did hell just freeze over? Am I hearing you right? Mandi, the eternal cheerleader, is admitting defeat?”
“Yep. I learned that this semester, and I have you to thank for it.” She glances over at me. “I wish I would have listened to you sooner about Eli. He doesn’t ever text me back. He doesn’t even look in my direction when we’re in the same room. So I’m officially giving up. You were right about him, Holland.”
Yeah. I guess I was. I should have listened to my own advice. I should have trusted my gut.
“I wish I wasn’t,” I say gently. “Trust me, I really wish I wasn’t.”
Mandi sits up quickly and turns toward me. “Okay, we can’t sit around here and mope. You know what this evening calls for?”
“Dare I ask?” I say dryly.
“Promise you won’t get mad.”
“What fun would that be?”
“Well, we can feel crappy on the inside, but there’s no reason we have to look like poo on the outside, right?”
“Oh, dear lord,” I mutter. “Mandi—”
“Hear me out,” she says, holding up a hand. “It’s no secret you’ve literally lived in sweatpants and a top-knot for more than a week now.”
“So?”
“So, you’re too pretty for that, Holland. You looked so killer with your hair in those beach waves. And the makeup you wore to the party looked so nice on you. Won’t you at least let me teach you how to do it? I noticed the only time you wear makeup is when someone else does it for you. Which makes me think you might need some help.”
I sigh and run my hands down over my face.
Okay, she’s not wrong. My mom never taught me anything about stuff like that, and I never bothered or cared to learn. But I have to admit, I did feel good when Jas and Mandi made me over.
“I guess a few lessons wouldn’t hurt,” I tell her. “But nothing too advanced. I’m not going to sit there and spread all that crap on my face for hours like you do. Just show me the basics.”
Mandi claps her hands. “Yes! This is going to be awesome!”
A knock sounds at our door, and Jas peeks her head in. “Hey, Hol. Dante’s busy tonight, so I thought I’d come over.” She smiles at Mandi. “Mind if I join you guys?”
Mandi waves her in. “Hi, Jasmine. We’re doing makeovers.”
Jas puts her hands on her hips and gives me an incredulous look. “Did I hear her right?” she asks, hooking a thumb in Mandi’s direction. “Makeovers?”
“I’m just going to teach her some makeup basics,” Mandi replies.
