Zara’s POV
I stood in front of my mirror the next night and pressed my lips together to set my lipstick.
The room was quiet. Bri had gone out on a date — some guy from her chemistry lab she'd been texting for a week — and for once I was glad to have the place to myself. I didn't want to tell her I was going to a b**m club and I didn't have the energy to come up with a lie about where I was going. Bri asked questions. Good ones. The kind that unraveled a lie before you'd even finished telling it. Tonight I just wanted to slip out without explaining myself to anyone.
I looked at my reflection.
Black leather pants that hugged every curve and refused to apologize for any of them. A black sequined blouse that caught the light when I moved. Black heels. I'd curled my hair so it fell in loos
