Once we are both showered, not together obviously, we get ready and head to the malls. I am not known for having any clue what is trending or what expensive clothes look like; give me Target or H&M clothes and I am happy.
Comfort over breaking the bank any day of the week.
Simone drives us; she is like a mini road rage hellhound when she is on the road.
Yelling at people to get out of her way, or to learn to drive. It is hilarious as well as stressful as I think one day we will end up crashed into another vehicle.
We park the car and head inside. Music plays softly; chatter almost overpowers the sound.
“Okay, we will start in there.” She points to a store that has mannequins in the window that look hotter than me.
“Can I help you?” The store assistant looks down at us, and I feel like I have been propelled into thePretty Womanmovie.
“Not really; we are just looking for now. My girl here needs a few outfits for a vacation wedding.” Simone fills her in on thedetails, but she has her nose up in the air, looking at us with disgust.
“I do not think that we have anything to your taste.”
Oh yes, definitely aPretty Womanmoment.
I give her a tight smile and pull Simone out of the store.
“That is fine, I am sure that I can spend my money at another store,” I snipe, but Simone has a different idea, and I cringe.
“Oh, fuck no. Listen, you stuck up bitch. She has money, lots and lots of money and you have fucked up. I will tell her man how you treated her.”
I tug on her arm, but she fights me, and the woman’s face goes pale when she realizes her mistake.
“Who is her man?”
“Like fuck I will tell you now. You can wait for him to respond to this bullshit treatment,” my friend snaps.
My shoes slip on the shiny tile floor and I fall, knocking over a mannequin that crashes into another rack, scattering clothes everywhere. I hear a gasp followed by Simone's unmistakable cackle.
“Hahaha, fucking karma.” My face heats up from embarrassment.
I shout my apologies as we rush from the store. My stomach is twisting and knotting from what just happened. You would think that I would have grown out of my misfortune of mishaps journey.
Simone grabs my arm, running from the store cackling like a fucking witch around a cauldron.
We pause to catch our breaths, standing against the wall in the hallway leading to the restrooms.
“Regardless of her bitchy attitude, we can find quality clothing elsewhere. However, Romeo comes from money, babe, so we have to select high-end attire,” Simone observes as she surveys the stores.
My heart pounds hard against my rib cage and my palms sweat as I touch my side, wincing from the bruise I know is forming. Simone notices.
"You hurt?"
"It's just a bruise," I reply, waving her off.
“You are like a fucking peach, babe. Come on, let’s go spend some money.”
I nod to her, take a deep calming breath, and follow her out. We hook arms and walk, pointing out which stores we need to go in and have a look around.
We stop at a classy store that also sells beachwear, shoes, purses, and accessories. The helpful assistant finds everything I need in one place. Though I'm shocked by the price, Romeo told me not to worry. I just hope we can do this without heartbreak.
Chapter Six
Romeo
