I was ready for a date—but I just couldn’t seem to leave the mirror, checking myself out like a serial overthinker. Did I look fine? Good? Just okay?
Ugh. I had to look perfect.
"Sugar, I love you..." Gabriella called from behind me, casually filing her nails on my freaking bed. "But no matter how many times you brush your hair and iron that dress with your hand, you’ll still look the same in his eyes. Pretty. Gorgeous. Hot. Yummy."
And just like that, I forgave her.
I let out a deep sigh and gave myself one last scan.
Low ponytail, some strands framing my face. Light makeup—thanks to Amethyst for giving me tons of her products and taught me to properly use it. A square-neck white sheath dress that Gabriella swore was my lucky color today. I was supposed to wear red, but clearly, red
