Page 2 of HER SISTER

In the span of four hours, I swear Mya was practically my sister now.

I felt like I knew the girl from top to bottom.

She's majoring in Fashion, which seemed a little too obvious by the way she carried herself.

She has a sister who was two years older than her—she seemed really close with her, given all the stories I got to hear.

She also has a huge group of friends who she tried to give me the run-down on but I just couldn't keep up.

I knew I'd do better in person though.

"How do I look?" Mya asked, walking into my room with a graceful spin.

She was wearing a denim skirt and a loosely cropped button-up shirt with matching white heels, her dark hair was pulled into a high bun, and her lips were painted nude.

"You look—" I cut myself off with an impressive smile, "—Wow."

Mya laughed, waving me off. "Don't boost my ego, Ana."

I laughed. "Maybe it needs to be boosted because you look fucking incredible. Where are we going again?" I asked as I looked between the outfits laid out on my fully made bed.

Mya walked over to me, looking at the casual outfits I had laid out. "Just dinner. The pink outfit is cute and girly. I say go with that one."

"You really think so?" I asked, anxiously twirling my long dark hair around my finger.

Mya nodded almost instantly, "Uh-yes. You'd look hot in that."

Something tells me I should take the fashion major's advice.

I laughed, grabbing the outfit and walking toward the bathroom. "Okay, I'll try it on."

Mya nodded, sitting on the bed as I closed the bathroom door.

I shrugged the silk pink robe off and stepped into the white mini-skirt, pulling the pink lacey top on, which displayed my cleavage and showed off my toned stomach.

Turning toward the large bathroom mirror, I nodded in approval, deciding I liked this outfit.

I ran my fingers through my long wavy strands before redoing my lipgloss.

When I walked out of the bathroom, Mya instantly let out a dramatic gasp.

"Oh my god—yep that is the one," she said, nodding to herself.

I grinned, twirling around like a shy schoolgirl. "I really like it."

"I really like it too. My friends are gonna eat you up girl," Mya said, smiling as she stood from my bed.

I laughed nervously, walking toward my walk-in closet that had just been organized, "I hope they like me," I said, looking at all my shoes on the glass shelves.

I walked toward the section of heels, grabbing the short white heels that laced up my ankles.

"They'll love you, I promise," Mya said as I laced up my heels.

I sighed, lacing up the last one before rising to my full height and exiting the closet fully, "Okay... I just don't meet new people often."

Mya looped her arm with mine. "Well, you better get used to it. UCLA is huge—LA is huge. Not to intimidate you, but you're going to meet so many people."

I nodded quickly, letting out a few deep breaths, "Yeah, I got this though."

Mya nodded, guiding us out of my room. "You're damn right you do," she said, easily agreeing with me.

Yet somehow, I'm still nervous as fuck.

—

"Mya! Please tell Willow that free healthcare is worth moving to Canada for," one of the guys seated at the rectangular table called out. He was dark-skinned, his hair dark curly hair hanging down over his forehead.

Automatically I picked up on his incredible fashion sense. He was dressed in a white short-sleeved button-up with a graphic vest over top of it and beige cargo pants.

"Sure, but when you're up to your neck in federal taxes, I don't want to hear anything," the woman spoke—who I assumed was Willow—she was dark-skinned with short dark hair that was straightened and parted in the middle.

She was dressed in a pin-striped grey blazer and matching pants, easily giving off a corporate vibe.

The man with light brown hair and pale skin nodded, his green eyes looking over at Willow. "She's right, Damon—taxes in Canada are an absolute bugger."

I immediately picked up on the man's British accent, sitting down at the table with the group.

"Well, of course, you agree with her—you're both majoring in political... something," the man named Damon said, sighing as he took a sip of the drink in his margarita glass.

Either they're all twenty-one or they have fake IDs.

"It's political science," the woman named Willow retorted, correcting the man.

Damon shrugged, "Same thing."

"It's not," everyone at the table said, even Mya—which later resulted in everyone falling into a joined laughter.

When the laughter slowly died down, Mya said, "Guys this is Atiana—or Ana for short."

"Hi," I said, giving everyone a small wave.

"Ana, nice to meet you," a girl with brunette hair said, her green eyes meeting mine from across the table. She reached her hand out, giving me a glimpse of the numerous bracelets lining her arm, "I'm Frankie."

I smiled, taking her hand and giving it a firm shake. "Nice to meet you."

Frankie nodded, pointing beside her, "This is Ryder," she pointed to the man with the British accent, who gave me a brief wave and half smile. She pointed at the woman beside Ryder, her dark red hair down and framing her fair skin, "That down there is Arielle."

Arielle's dark eyes met mine, giving me a full-on smile, "My mom thought naming a redhead Arielle was original, " she joked, which earned a laugh from me.

"That's Damon," Mya said, pointing to the guy beside Arielle with the fashion sense that I easily noticed.

He gave me a brief smile, taking another sip of his drink.

Mya pointed beside her, "That's Marco," she introduced the man who looked to be of Indian ethnicity.

The man looked up from his phone which he seemed absorbed in, giving me a smile before glancing back down at his phone.

"Ignore him he's a Biology major so he's trying to get ahead of the Fall semester," Mya explained, easily earning a nod from me.

I seriously couldn't imagine majoring in Biology.

"It's a common occurrence, I'm surprised Arielle isn't trying to get ahead too," Willow said, looking over at Arielle.

Arielle shrugged, "I'm manifesting a good term—even if Biology is the suckiest major."

"Facts," Willow laughed, looking back at me, "And I'm Willow," she introduced herself.

Everyone seemed so nice. It was cool to know that I had already made so many new friends.

It honestly made me feel a little more at home in this huge city.

"Nice to meet you all," I said, smiling around at everyone.

Mya's friends seemed so chill and easy-going, I already knew they were the right group for me.

It was a huge contrast to my two childhood friends back home.

"No getting out now," Damon joked.

Ryder nodded, chuckling. "It's like the mafia—"

"Once you're in, you're never getting out," Frankie cut him short like she'd heard the term a thousand times.

I smiled, shrugging to myself, "I think I'm okay with that," I said, knowing I already found myself warming up to the group.

"You guys hear that?" Arielle said, looking around with a smile, "We finally have a new addition to the group!"

"Cheers to that," another voice called, causing everyone's heads to turn to the source.

A brunette woman walked toward us, wearing a red jersey layered over a white t-shirt, black cargo pants, and black Converse.

She looked... really attractive.

But I knew I needed to shake that thought away. This was clearly a tight-knit group of friends, and I didn't want to make things awkward.

"Let me guess—you had inspiration for a new song?" Frankie said, joking with the woman as she stood at the end of the table, right by me.

The woman nodded, "Yeah, until I scrapped the lyrics again," she said, shaking her head. Slowly, but surely, her light eyes landed on me, causing her to stick out her hand, "Cam," she introduced herself, with a small smile.

I reached my hand out, slowly shaking her hand as I met her stare, "Atiana—Ana for short," I said, my face slowly growing hot as I pulled my hand away from her soft grip.

How are her hands so soft?

"Alright, keep your dick in your pants Cam, and go order us a round of shots from the bar," Ryder said, joking with the woman, which easily earned a laugh from her.

"Fuck you Ry," she said, laughing to herself as she walked away from the table toward the bar.

"So Ana, what are you majoring in?" Marco said, finally looking up from his phone as he locked the device and slid it into the pocket of his pants.

"English Lit," I said, which earned a nod from Marco.

"That sounds dope—you want to be a writer?" Frankie asked as Cam came back over with a waitress following behind her, holding a tray of shots.

Damon laughed. "Well, duh—she is majoring in writing."

"Okay asshole, maybe she wanted to be an editor, I don't know," Frankie said, flicking Damon off, jokingly.

"I swear they argue like siblings," Arielle said, passing shots down to everyone.

Willow nodded, taking a shot from the waitress, "Very fucking factual."

"Okay, you can't talk, you were just arguing with Damon," Mya said, giving Willow a narrowed look.

"Let's just conclude that Damon is easy to argue with shall we?" Ryder asked, taking a shot from Arielle.

Marco chuckled to himself, shaking his head as Mya passed me a shot filled with clear liquid, "Welcome to the shit show Ana."

Cam held her shot glass up, "Cheers to the shit show."

"Cheers!" Everyone held their glasses up, causing me to mimic their actions.

Our glasses briefly clinked together before we threw the burning liquid back—our faces scrunching up at the intense burn coating our throats.

I let out a deep breath as the burning faded in my chest, "Damn," I said, sitting my shot down.

Mya playfully nudged me, "Small-town girl here, so you guys go easy on her."

Arielle's dark eyes widened in curiosity, "Where did you come from?" she asked.

"Islamorada," I said, taking a sip of the water that the waitress provided for me.

Marco laughed, "Damn, say that ten times fast."

Everyone chimed in with a chuckle, nodding in agreement, and I couldn't help but join in.

This group was like a breath of fresh air.

I felt incredibly thankful to have stumbled upon not only a good roommate but good friends too.

I knew the next couple of years spent at UCLA would be some of the best times of my life, and I couldn't wait to see what was in store for me.