by Noe Dearden
*****
“Three hundred dollars!?” Charlotte exclaimed, holding out a pair of jeans in disbelief. “For denim?”
“They’re made in America, not some oppressive sweatshop in China. Try these, too,” Emi said, thrusting another pair into Charlotte’s already full arms. They had been shopping for only about twenty minutes, and already Charlotte had had her fill. “And these. What do you think of white pants? You can probably pull them off.”
“I don’t need this many pairs of pants.” Charlotte almost lost her balance as Emi threw the white pants on the ever-growing pile of merchandise.
“You’re just trying them on. It’s not a commitment.”
Charlotte watched as Emi maneuvered the racks at Neiman Marcus with ease, plucking out hangers without even glancing at the price tags. It was a new concept for Charlotte. She usually shopped off the discount rack at Kmart or Burlington Coat Factory.
In a floor-to-ceiling mirror, Charlotte caught sight of her reflection. She almost didn’t recognize herself. This morning, the hairdresser had convinced Charlotte to let him dye her hair a more natural, copper color. He’d also cut layers so that it framed her face more neatly. She felt pretty, though not nearly as stunning as Emi.
Emi had lush dark hair that fell in soft waves to the middle of her back. With her bronzed complexion and hourglass figure, she looked imperious, like a goddess. She truly did seem to float as she walked, perhaps because she stood a good three or four inches above most other girls.
“I’m ready to go into the dressing room,” Charlotte said. She leaned down to retrieve a shirt that had slipped from the pile in her arms. When no one answered, she frowned. “Emi?”
Charlotte searched, but her cousin was nowhere in sight. “Emi?” she called again.
“Down here.”
Confused, Charlotte moved towards the sound of the whisper. Emi was hiding in a rack of sweaters.
“What are you doing?” Charlotte asked, finding that she was whispering as well, though she had no idea why.
Emi was embarrassed. “Um. Do you see those two people? By the escalators?”
Charlotte spotted a pair of teenagers about fifty feet away, a boy and a girl. The girl wasn’t facing in her direction so it was impossible to get a good look at her. The boy was attractive in the conventional sense: dark, chiseled, well-built.
“Yeah,” she whispered into the sweater rack. “You know them?”
“I thought I knew them. Before they both stabbed me in the back.”
Charlotte didn’t understand what her cousin meant by this but decided it was better not to pry.
After a moment, Charlotte said, “They’ve gone. You can come out now.” She took a step back so that Emi could clamber out.
“That was Kainoa.” Emi spat the name venomously. “My scumbag ex-boyfriend. Very recently ex. The girl was my former best friend. They were cheating on me together for a month before I found out.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs.
“Sorry for the freak-out,” Emi glowered in the direction of the escalators. “I just can’t believe he had the gall to bring Natalie to the Mermaid Bar! Kainoa and I had our first date there two years ago. It was our spot.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m better off without him,” Emi said, though she sounded unconvinced. “Whatever. Come on, let’s try on those pants.”
They trotted to the fitting rooms. Emi waited outside the door while Charlotte tried on about three thousand dollars worth of designer clothes.
As Charlotte struggled to disentangle herself from a pair of particularly tight skinny jeans, Emi began talking again. Clearly, thoughts about her ex-boyfriend were still preying on her mind.
“The thing is, even though he is a scumbag, he’s the only guy at school I’d ever date.” Emi was sitting behind the changing room door, and Charlotte felt like a Catholic priest hearing her cousin’s confession.
“He’s basically perfect,” Emi went on. “He gets decent grades. His parents are great. He dances ballet really well. And I know some people think male ballet dancers aren’t cool, but they haven’t seen Kainoa do grands jetés en tournant. He defies gravity. Believe me, it’s incredibly sexy.”
Charlotte emerged from her fitting room.
“Did they fit?” Emi asked.
“Sure.”
“All of them?”
Charlotte shrugged.
“You really need to start using your words,” Emi said. “I have no idea what you’re thinking 98% of the time.”
To her embarrassment, Charlotte felt her cheeks redden. Her cousin probably thought she was stupid.
“Well,” Emi prompted impatiently. “Do you want to buy these or not?”
“I don’t want to spend your parents’ money,” she said, still embarrassed.
Emi exhaled impatiently. “Don’t you get it? They want you to spend their money. Dad gave me his credit card and didn’t even subject us to the ‘wants versus needs’ lecture.”
Charlotte dropped the pile of pants onto the reject-shelf. “It’s too much. I can get the same pants for a tenth the price at Old Navy.”
“Old Navy? Ew.” Emi grabbed the pants and hop-stepped to keep up with Charlotte who was walking away. “Listen, my parents really want you to get new clothes. You’d be doing them a favor by purchasing these pants, alright? And maybe getting a decent manicure. And some shirts that don’t show so much of…that.” Emi gestured to Charlotte’s chest.
It took Charlotte a moment to understand what Emi was talking about. Her annoyance gave way to confusion.
“I can’t not look at your boobs when you’re wearing that shirt,” Emi explained.
Charlotte stared down at her clothes. She hadn’t even thought about what she’d put on this morning. It was the last thing on her mind.
“A shirt like that says, ‘I don’t respect myself,’” Emi explained, then grabbed the pants and stalked off towards the checkout.
Charlotte studied the three-way mirror near the fitting rooms and crossed her arms across her chest.
