Page 35 of Okay, Cupid

Ugh.

I lead Cal away from the crowd, walking hand in hand.

“How’d it go?” he asks once we’re away from any prying ears.

“I almost had something,” I tell him. I don’t want to blame him coming in, but I think Huy would’ve been more open to sharing if he hadn’t appeared.

Cal can read as much from my tone.

“I’m sorry,” he says to me. “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine. Any progress at all is good progress.”

But I can’t help but think of the countdown, of the invisible clock ticking away, minute by minute, hour by precious hour.

• • •

After I say goodbye to Cal, I take the bus downtown to the Westfield Centre, where I’m supposed to meet Neve and Alice.

I follow the directory to the H&M where they tell me they’re currently trying on clothes, walking toward the back of the store until I meet them near the changing rooms.

“What do you think, Jude?” Alice asks me, spinning in a skirt. “My style?”

“You want my opinion?” I ask.

“Shocking, right? But I guess you have a good fashion sense or whatever. So … thoughts?”

“I think it’s cute,” I tell her. “Do you have any top ideas?”

“This one?” She reaches back into the changing room she’s been using, grabbing a flowy blouse with cute puffy sleeves and an open neckline. “I’m worried it’ll make my legs look short.” She spins back toward the mirror. It’s a fair concern; Alice is maybe four inches shorter than me.

“I like it,” I tell her. “I think it makes your legs look fine.”

“Jude?” I hear Neve call out from behind a changing room door. “You’re here.”

“I am!”

I hear a door unlocking and she steps out in a black-and-white sweater, patterned in zigzags and diamond shapes, that hangs oversized on her. “Thoughts?”

“You …” I stare at the outfit. Maybe it’s the jeans she’s wearing that don’t make it work, or maybe patterns just aren’t Neve’s style. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen her wear anything patterned since we met. I let my sentence die.

If I can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.

“I look like a zebra, don’t I?” She holds her arms out. The sleeves are too droopy.

“Little bit.”

“Ugh!”

“Having trouble?” I lean against the doorframe, turning away so they can both change in their respective dressing rooms. As if me facing the other direction does anything when they’re still hidden behind doors.

“She’s hated everything she’s tried on,” Alice tells me. She comes out a moment later dressed in what I’m guessing are the clothes she arrived in. “I keep giving her outfits and she keeps turning me down.”

“Pick better outfits!” Neve adds.

“Want me to try, Neve?” I offer.

“Please?” she begs.