Trinity (47)

“It’s too tight!”

Pearl’s on the other side of the dressing room door, and I’m scrabbling with the zipper of a silver shimmery dress. It has a $120 price tag, but Pearl and I aren’t planning on buying any of these things, anyway.

Pearl just cackles. “Come out, you have to see this!” she calls.

I yank the dress off, because you’d have to be made of sticks to fit into it. And it says medium on the tag. Yeah right.

The other dress I brought in with me is magenta and ruffly at the bottom and has a low neckline that I would never wear in public, so I put it on. Surprisingly, it zips. I step out of my dressing room.

In the tiny hallway between the rooms is a mirror, and Pearl’s facing it, wearing her own over-priced dress. I catch her eyes in the reflection and let out what can only be called a guffaw.

“Good gracious, what is that?” I exclaim, holding out my hands in her direction. Her dress is yellow, with fringe hanging off the asymmetrical skirt and the neckline as well. It looks more like Big Bird than a party dress.

She’s laughing at her reflection, and doing a silly dance, still facing the mirror. She turns to me. “Isn’t it hideous? Yours, though, is…”

I tip my head to the side, waiting for her to finish the thought, and she’s wearing that horrid dress, and she’s blinking at me, but no words have come out of her mouth. “It’s fine,” I fill in for her. “But it’s not worth--” I check the tag. “--ninety-five dollars.”

She shakes her head. “It might be,” she replies with a small smile.

“It’s not,” I inform her, glancing down at myself.

Pearl shrugs. “I like it.” She grins. “I like it a lot more than this.” Another shake of her hips, and the fringe swishes around her legs, and we’re both caught in a laughing fit.

. . .

It’s almost six o’clock, but there’s just one more store that we spot, then we'll have to get back to the library, because that’s where Pearl wants her parents to pick her up, to make it seem like we’ve been there this whole time.

We walk into the thrift shop, and Pearl points at a line of ceramic Santas. I pick up a statue of a dragon and show it to her, only to gasp in joy when I realize that it’s actually got a spout, and must be some kind of water pitcher.

It goes on like that, both of us pointing out random items, and eventually we move on and browse the racks of clothes. A lot of them are in terrible condition, to be honest, but Pearl is still somehow able to find things that she likes enough to try on.

She disappears into one of the changing rooms, and I skim over a nearby rack of sweaters. There’s a white one with scatters of rainbow stars, and I pick it up and hold it up to my chest, looking down at myself.

I get that feeling again, suddenly, like I’m being watched, and I almost drop the sweater as I look up. Standing with only the rack of clothes separating us, is that guy from Youth’s Road to Jesus. Chad? Chaz?

He looks the same, in a tight t-shirt and gym shorts, clearly an outfit meant to show off his muscles. He’s holding an armful of green and blue jerseys and sweatshirts, and it looked like he had been going through them until he noticed me staring at him.

He gives me a smile that is a little too self-satisfied, and I shove the sweater I’m holding back on the rack, planning on rushing to the other end of the store. Or maybe sinking into the floor, that would work too.

“Do I…” he starts.

Oh, please no. He’s spoken. To me. I freeze in place.

“Wait a minute, yeah! I recognize you…” He wags a finger at me, thinking for a second. “You must've been at Kayla’s party, right?”

He was at Abbey’s sister’s party?! No, wait, her name wasn’t Kayla. “Casey?” I say, but he’s already started talking again.

“Listen, ah, geez.” He half sighs, half laughs, and gives me a big lopsided grin, as if that’s supposed to mean something. “I’m really sorry about my friends. They’re usually way chiller than that. I mean, we all did some stuff we shouldn’t have, right?” He laughs loudly, and I probably just look confused.

He presses on. “I hope Megan isn’t mad. I mean, come on, she was asking for it, wearing that skirt! I’m just kidding. But you know us guys, we just say things like that sometimes. Doesn't mean a thing. But we should all hang out again. More ‘bible study’, am I right?” He winks, and I think I flinch a little.

On the one hand, I’m relieved he doesn’t actually remember me. On the other, who on earth is Megan and what did he and his friends say to her?

When I stand there not saying anything, like a fool, he shakes his head, his smile finally wavering. “I’m Chet, remember? And you’re… uh, it’s on the tip of my tongue…” He’s looking at me expectantly, but I don’t really want to provide him with my name.

“I actually–” I begin.

“Hey, can you help me with these?!” Pearl’s voice comes from the end of the row I’m in, and she’s practically yelling. I can see an employee not too far away turn her head in our direction, and I, at that moment, would like nothing more to sink into the floor and never return.

I lurch towards Pearl, hoping Chet will just forget about me. Pearl’s balancing a heaping stack of clothes in her arms, and peaking at me over the top of them. I’m not sure why.

“Oh, let me help,” Chet offers, discarding his own chosen garments onto the rack and heading in her direction. I can see a flash of panic in Pearl’s wide eyes as they meet mine. Clearly this was not the intention of this charade.

“Just hold these, will you?” she says to him, and she’s nodding her head at me, and it take me a second to realize she’s tipping her head at the door. A moment later, she ditches all the clothes into Chet’s arms, and is taking me by the arm and speed-walking out the door.

Outside, we thread our way through the stream of shoppers--it’s busy now that it’s later in the day. Pearl releases my arm, but I think she leaves dents, she was clutching me so hard.

“Oh my god,” she laughs, a little out of breath.

I join her. “I can’t believe you just did that,” I say. “Do you think he knew it was you?”

“As long as he can’t see through denim, I don’t think he got a good look at my face. And if he can see through denim, then we have bigger problems on our hands,” she replies.

I laugh, and she holds her hands out in front of her as we walk, still incredulous. “Who let Chet into this mall?”

“It’s an outdoor mall,” I remind her. “I’m not sure it’s possible to keep anyone out.”

She makes a popping noise with her lips. “They should build Chet-proof walls then. He shouldn’t be allowed out in the wild.”

. . .

My parents are waiting for me in the library parking lot, and I leave Pearl in the library to wait for her own to arrive.

“We called you,” my mom says when I get in the car.

I pull my phone out of my pocket. I forgot to switch it off silent. (I always set it to silent when I enter libraries, because I’m paranoid someone will call me and the ring will go off and the librarians will glare at me and it will be completely embarrassing.) “Oh, sorry,” I tell her, and my dad’s already pulling out of the parking lot, one hand turning the wheel and the other tipping back a travel mug of what I know must be coffee.

Mom twists in her seat to look at me. “I didn’t think you’d be that long. We have to pick up Rory for Easter.” I don’t look at her for a second, because I have missed notifications on my phone, but then my head pops up.

“He’s coming home for Easter?” My parents rarely talk about my brother, especially since they don’t approve of him living with his girlfriend--unmarried. And she’s not Christian, either.

“Desirae will be flying out to California to visit her family. And we haven’t seen Rory in so long…”

I just shake my head, not even bothering to ask why he can’t just drive himself. He lives two hours away. I also don’t know why I have to be in the car, either, if they’re wanting to pick him up.

But I’m too distracted to ask, because I’ve got a text from an unknown number, and it says:

hi Trin! this is Katherine. I changed the schedule for easter mon a bit. checked with mrs. Vena and she thinks its a great idea for you to read an excerpt of your story. I know it was supposed to be an essay but lets be real no one wants to hear some boring essay

And a second message:

super excited, everyone is going to love it!!! thnx for being flexible ur the best!!!

Oh no.

.

.

.

(first part: https://theprose.com/post/432343/trinity)

.

(previous part: https://theprose.com/post/462342/trinity-46)

(next part: https://theprose.com/post/463780/trinity-48)