"Ignore it," Deja ordered before Amila could shift from the chair she'd been sitting in since eleven that morning.

The catchy chorus of a rap song that had been her favorite for the month was sung out on her phone on the kitchen table. Her eyelid twitched from the cry and curiosity filled her. Not many people called her as of late and every time her phone rang with the tune that she assigned to most of her friends to make sure it wasn't a spam call, she got a little excited. Eager to answer, she drummed her fingers on her knees.

She waited for Deja to lift the tip of the eyeliner from her eyelid and said, "It could be important."

Deja sighed as she dipped the liner applicator into the bottle. "It's Savion." She pulled the applicator out with a pop and commenced to duplicate that immaculate line she made on Amila's right eyelid to her left one. "He can wait...matter of fact, you should block him. It's not healthy."

"He's a friend." Amila quipped the same statement she'd uttered every time his name came up between her and Deja.

Savion Pryce wasn't as close a friend as the woman that was mere inches from her face but he was an important person to her. The months, days, and weeks after the biggest loss of her life occurred he was there. He had lost someone special to him that day also. He cried with her; held her and shared her grief. She did the same for him. She didn't think their growing bond was unhealthy but maybe it was. Maybe she wasn't seeing clearly. Either way, it didn't matter, she couldn't cut him out of her life. He was too important to her.

"If that's what you say." Deja sounded like she didn't believe any of the words that slipped from her mouth. "You shouldn't be concerning yourself with Savion on this fine, fine Saturday. It should be Dominic that we should be talking about."

"No." Amila started to shake her head but was immediately averted by her friend's frantic pleas to keep still. "Dominic is..."

She paused, trying to search her mind for the words and description of what Dominic was to her. He was icy sweet tea on a hot, balmy day and a juicy burger after a morning of running errands; he was the cashmere blanket that covered you on a snowy night. He was all the things she wanted in her life; things that are constant, permanent, and never changing. He was a treat that would last a lifetime and she wasn't ready for that type of commitment. Her heart was healing from the devastating loss of a great love. It wasn't ready to welcome the promise of a new one.

"He's interested in who I was." Amila finally said, not yet wanting to admit the truth aloud. "I'm not her anymore."

Deja swapped the eyeliner for mascara. "And maybe he's not the same either but don't you think it's time for you to stop hiding out."

"I'm not hiding out." Amila pulled back and opened her eyes once the mascara brush slid through her lashes. "I'm—"

The loving, caring face of her friend hit her like a bucket of bricks and she was no longer able to continue with the lie she was trying to portray. So, instead of admitting to Deja that she was right, she took an alternate route. Deflection.

"Trying to help you be that makeup maven I know you can be." Amila closed her eyes again getting back into position. "It's almost January. How certain are you that Mr. Ross will hold up his threat and cut you off."

"Dr. Ross..." Deja corrected as she applied mascara to Amila's other eyelash. "...Is one hundred percent committed to his threat."

"But doesn't he see your page and your portfolio?" She gripped the arms of the teak professional makeup chair that was a late-night splurge purchase on Amazon. "You're great at what you do. You're like Michelangelo for the face."

"He doesn't care." Deja quipped trying to drain her tone of the pain but it remained at the end of her words. "He wants me to be a doctor and go to medical school. So, if I don't have a secure job by the New Year this beautiful loft and my car will no longer be mine."

Amila sighed. "He won't kick you out."

"Your dad was his best friend, he might not kick you out." Deja chuckled mirthlessly. "But he'll make me sleep on the sidewalk."

"Nope. Not a chance." She said adamantly. "If you have to go then I'm going too. We're in this together. You and me. Two dropouts trying to make it in the world."

Deja laughed as she spritzed Amila's face with her setting potion and began wafting her with a fan. "A lot of moxie from a girl afraid of going after what she wants." The breeze from the fan stopped and she said. "You can open your eyes now, beautiful."

"You diss me then compliment me." Amila folded her arms, tilting her head and making her silky ponytail dance. "I think they cancel each other out. Try again, please." She smiled coyly.

Deja shook her head doing a great job at not disturbing the Versace scarf wrapped around her hair. "You like him. I saw it all over your face on the ride home. It's time for you to stop punishing yourself for what happened. There was nothing you could do to prevent it and you deserve to live and be happy."

Amila blinked trying to hold back the tears that built in the wells of her eyes but they were too formidable for her will. They surged every time she thought about the night she lost her family; her mom, her dad, her twin. They were all taken from her in one day and she hated thinking about the day. It was easier to act as if the day had never existed. Losing her parents was hard but it was easy to forget the loss. Her dad was always busy being the Chief of Surgery and her mom was always so consumed with planning social events and attending benefits that it was easier for her to just think of them as being busy and not gone forever. But Akeela was her constant, she was even her roommate in New York. There was no forgetting her.

"I'm sorry," Amila whined, fanning her face as tears smeared all of her friend's hard work.

"Don't worry about it," Deja said then shushed her as she pulled her out of the seat. She wrapped her arms around her and wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Makeup can be fixed. You just have to get back to living. Do all those things that you want to do. They'd want you to be happy. I want you to be happy. Try to get your happiness back."

Amila leaned back with mist still in her eyes, "Do you think I can be happy?"

"Yes. You always wanted to be spontaneous." Deja said, gripping her shoulders then glanced over to the purse hanging over the back of the chair at the dining table. "Well, now's your chance."

She didn't have to be a Rhode Scholar to know what Deja was referring to and against her better judgment, she did something she wasn't known for doing. She acted without thinking and making a plan. It was the second time she'd ever done such a thing. The first time was when she dropped out of Juilliard.

She dug Dominic's card out of her purse and dialed the cell number. After three rings no one picked up and she decided against leaving a message. Maybe that was fate and they weren't meant to reconnect and have a second date. She balled up the card and tossed it in the kitchen trash before making her way back to the chair.

Deja reclaimed the space in front of Amila who was busy reading a text. "For the love of God and all things holy, do not text Justin back. Stop being his crutch. He wasn't your boyfriend."

Amila tsked then tossed her phone onto the couch. Maybe her friend was right about this one too. Savion was Akeela's boyfriend and if she was going to heal she'd have to put some distance between them.

"Okay, magician." Amila crossed her legs, rolled her shoulders, and held her face still. "Make me beautiful again."

Deja snapped her fingers, "Your wish is my command." She turned the music back up and went back to work. 

Do you think Dominic will call her back?

Should Amila put distance between her and Savion? Is their relationship healthy or is it a crutch?

Will Deja be able to make a living as a Makeup artist are will she have to cave to her Dad's demands and go back to Med School?