As I shimmy into the dress in my room—and Laura was totally right, my boobs look amazing—I can’t push away the part of me, however petty, that hopes Darryl is there tonight. Maybe Laura’s right. If he sees me dancing with someone else, he’ll get the message that we’re over. It’s not like anything else I’ve done has worked, even though he’s the one who cheated. As if on cue, my phone screen lights up. Darryl again. I can’t believe that at one point in time I thought this was sweet. Supportive. Now he makes me want to claw my hair out.
