“Hey. Sit down a sec.” I motioned toward the couch and sat across from him in a wicker chair. It creaked when my weight hit the seat. “I busted your phone. I do actually owe you something. Beyond that, let’s be honest. You need all the fashion help you can get.”
He chuckled softly. “Yeah, I’m hopeless when it comes to style. That’s why I need you—need your help.” He sat straighter. “I did a market analysis to find which areas had the highest growth in phone app usage. The fashion sector hit right in that trend. Plus, I figured, you know.” He cleared his throat. “You’re so good at this stuff. When I saw you in New York, I started thinking maybe … maybe we could collaborate.”
“You thought about me helping you way back in New York?” Several weeks ago—before I’d busted his phone?
Liam’s eyes widened. I guess I freaked him out with my incredulous questioning. “Thanks, for being willing to help me. I almost talked myself out of coming here about seven times.”
“Well, we’re pretty scary. I can understand your fear.”
Liam stared at me.
I titled my head and gave him a silly expression.
“You’re joking. You’re teasing me. Just … just great.” But he was smiling now. His cheeks reddened again, but he smiled.
“All right. What’s your app called? Let’s start there.”
He shifted forward on the couch. “It’s not final, but I was thinking of calling it Refitter. The app that outfits you.”
I let slip a sucking-through-the-teeth sound, a reaction Mami had when she didn’t like an idea. I always gave her a hard time for it and here I was doing the same. “Um, we may want to rethink the name. Refitter sounds like something you do to your toilet.”
“I told you I was stuck.”
“The tagline is decent. You’re on the right track. You want it to be obvious from the name what the app does.” I sat back, cycling my memory through lectures and tours at the internship, and hundreds of Instagram style accounts. “How about something like YouFit, or the letter U plus Fit. Oh! How about this? UFit: Style in your hands.”
Liam’s mouth opened, his eyes wide. “How’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Come up with that so fast. It took me weeks to come up with Refitter.”
“I guess I’m naturally talented.”
His face brightened. “I think that name could work. I’ll need to check if any other apps are using similar names.”
I creaked out of the chair—creaks courtesy of both the wicker and my sore bones. “Since your app is like a virtual closet, come check mine out. It might give us some inspiration.”
Liam followed me into my room, which sadly had not cleaned itself while I was working. At least this was an excuse to unpack. I unzipped the main compartment of the Pro Traveler and a rainbow-colored assortment of garments spewed out.
Okay, embarrassing. “This is not my usual state of affairs.”
But Liam’s attention was on the bulletin board above Johnny, with the zillions of tacked-on quotes, fashion inspirations, and miscellaneous nerdery. “You’re Gryffindor. I’m not surprised.”
My gaze followed his to my Hogwarts House affiliation mini-poster centered on the board. “Ravenclaw?”
He turned to me, smiling. “How’d you guess?”
“You practically scream Ravenclaw. Academic, wise, competitive in the smarts. That’s what Maya and I call it—honor society is ‘excelling in the smarts.’” Ugh, why was I spewing my BFF-dom all over Liam when he’d almost ran away scared just being here? “And why aren’t you surprised I’m Gryffindor? I’m not brave. I should totally be Hufflepuff. I’ve taken the sorting test three times with three different e-mail accounts, and I always get the same house.”
“No, see it’s not always the assumed type of bravery for Gryffindor. Think about Ron. He was always in Harry’s shadow, but he faced his fears over time. And Hermione, her intellect—or smarts, as you say—helped her to do brave acts. You’re totally a Gryffindor.”
I didn’t exactly agree about my supposed bravery, but he put up a fair argument. “Well, it’s good we have that established.”
“Absolutely. I’m not sure I can trust someone who doesn’t know which Hogwarts House they’re sorted into.”
“Ha! That needs to be on a T-shirt.”
Ethan was probably Slytherin. He had to be. The house was often misunderstood as evil, but it was the ambition that made me think of him.
Not that I was supposed to be thinking of Ethan.
I removed the empty hangers from my closet and tossed them onto my bed.
Liam peered beyond me. “Whoa.” The whites of his eyes doubled in size. “Your closet is like a portal to a different fashion dimension.”
I looked back at the dark, narrow space. The house was old, and so were its closets. It left a lot to be desired.
“What’s that?” He pointed past me and his arm lightly grazed mine. He stepped aside and then closer toward my closet. “This.” He carefully pulled at a layer of light blue tulle attached to a vintage dress.
“Oh, that. Pretty huh?” I unhooked the hanger from its corner spot and held the dress against my body. “I found this at a funky vintage place, way back in the sale section. The netting is damaged, and the bodice is sort of wrecked along the zipper. It doesn’t even fit. I thought this would be good to practice constructing formal wear, but so far it just hangs next to my eighth-grade graduation robe.”
“It’s … it’s beautiful.”
I was suddenly aware of how close we were standing. The end of my bed butted up to the open closet door, leaving space enough for two people to stand between it and the wall. This was strange, having a Laurenti boy in my room. How had this happened? In all these years, a separation existed—I crossed the line to them, but they never crossed to here. It was as simple as Liam knocking on our front door and me inviting him to my room.
To my bedroom. Alone with me.
Looking at the dress in my arms, the fabric seemed more worn than I remembered. Kind of shabby. “I bet this dress was pretty back in the day.”
“It’s pretty now.”
All I saw were holes, rips, faded fabric. A ton of work. “What are you seeing that I’m not?”
Liam coughed and stepped back. “A lot.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“What I really want to know is, what makes someone buy this top versus that one?” Liam turned his tablet’s screen to face me, displaying two similar items from a department store website.
It was Friday evening and I was talking shopping strategies with Liam in the Laurentis’ massive second-floor hang-out den—a situation I’d never predicted in my Laurenti-focused daydreams.
I’d been to the boys’ wing once or twice as a kid when the den was a playroom. Now, the room contained a flat-panel TV on one end with a row of video game consoles beneath it. Beanbag chairs, a leather sectional, and a pool table (seriously, this room was huge) filled in the middle, with a snack bar and mini-fridge in the corner.
“It’s not really a science.” I readjusted on the lumpy beanbag chair, which needed serious breaking in. “The decision could be based on price, or brand, but most likely fit. If one fits better, I’m probably going to get that one even if it costs more. Unless it costs a lot more, then if the two are close enough, I’ll go with the cheaper one.”
Liam took notes. Like, frantic stylus-on-tablet pecking. Tap-tap-tap on the screen the whole time I spoke. He seemed to be most at ease pacing. Pacing and tapping.
“So, the app will be free, theoretically, if it goes into production, but the free version will show an ad after every fifth refit. So after your outfit resets—”
“Oh, that’s the thing I wanted to mention.” I cracked open a bag of licorice. “The whole outfit shouldn’t reset every time. Only the current item should switch out. Like, I know I want to wear these jeans, but the tops are what I want to play around with. Only the tops should change so I can see how they each l
ook with the jeans.”
Liam nodded. “Right, I can adjust that. You have no idea how helpful it is having you here. Amy was right.”
My hand froze midway to my mouth, the licorice rope flopping over. “Amy?”
“We’ve texted a few times. She’s really cool.” He turned his attention back to the tablet and tapped the screen again.
HIGH ALERT. I laughed to cover my panic. Please, please Liam, tell me Amy didn’t say anything about me dating Ethan. Wait, no. Don’t tell me. Say nothing about it because then you don’t know anything either.
Liam knew I’d been hung up on his brother, but not that I’d lied about dating him. This did not bode well. I needed to prevent Liam and Amy from talking again. Or at least forbid them from discussing me. Which seemed not only difficult to impossible, but also sorta mean. Which meant I needed to come clean to Amy. Except, if she and Liam were talking, she’d tell him what I’d done. I’d risk the project. Ethan would probably find out, too. Ugh, why hadn’t I told Amy the truth before I left New York?
I hadn’t been truly over Ethan. I’d wanted to hang on to that last little bit of the fantasy. And now it was costing me.
I’d have to think more on Amy later. “Just think how cool your app will be—like a personal shopper right on your phone.”
“That’s precisely what I was thinking.”
Precisely. Cute. Well, cute in a sweet way. Nothing more.
Liam stopped walking the room and collapsed onto a beanbag. “Maybe—if you don’t mind—we could go to a mall and do some more research.”
“You might have to twist my arm. Malls are the worst.”
“They are?”
I grinned. “No. I’ll totally go. Just name the day.”
Tension eased from his shoulders and he smiled. “Here, can you do some test runs of the fitting options?” He handed me a test phone. Our fingers met in the exchange and he retracted like he’d touched a hot burner on the stove.
I pretended not to notice the flinch. “You said you want to use this app experience on your college applications. What are you planning to do for college?”
“Computer science and a master’s in information systems. Unless my dad convinces me to get an MBA.” Tapping on the tablet filled in the silence. Harsh tapping.
“You don’t want a business degree?”
He shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
I thought this over. “Ethan is probably more the business degree type. The other day, he was talking about the reality show being ‘good for the property.’ Like he’s a land investor or something.”
Liam looked up sharply. “When did you talk to Ethan?”
“I ran into him over here. The cameras were filming and the producer went on this weird rant about wanting Haylo to wear tube tops. Haylo had me pretend to be her stylist.” I laughed like this was no big deal. It wasn’t. “And way to not tell me a reality show was taping here.”
Liam chewed on his lower lip. “I knew you’d find out sooner or later.”
But he hadn’t wanted to tell me. “I only pretended to be her stylist, anyway.” Something told me he might not like hearing the fake stylist gig turned into a real offer.
“Oh. I’m sure you’d be a great stylist.” Liam blinked, seeming to see through his tablet. “How are things looking with the test app?”
He’d seen how I looked at Ethan at the warehouse party. Me and my slow-motion heartbreak. Maybe Liam wanted to protect me from seeing Ethan and Haylo together.
I clicked through options on the test phone, generally messing around. “This can’t be the first app you’ve done. This is pretty good already.”
He set the tablet in his lap and stretched his legs. “When I found out about the app competition, I looked at which industries were big with phone apps. I found untapped potential in fashion retail.” He leaned forward, elbows on knees. “I want mine to make shopping easy and fun, like a game. Then I thought of tie-ins with designers and retailers—that’s when the big ideas started and the getting in over my head thing.” He sighed. “I did it to myself. I can only blame me.”
“Except you’re not in over your head. It feels that way, but look at what you have already.”
“Yeah, but I’m just some kid making this and trying to sell it to an actual company. Why should they take me seriously?”
“Liam.” I squished myself more upright on the beanbag. “Listen to me. You are not just some kid. No one’s making you do this. You’re doing this because you want to and because creating the app inspires you. That’s important.”
He studied the edges of his thumbnail.
“I love sewing. Even though no one I know outside the internship sews except ladies at church. They give me old Butterick dress patterns and I get excited. That’s not normal. And I’m okay with that kind of not normal. Anyway, you and Desiree, you two could talk business strategies for hours.”
“I could talk for hours about business and apps and coding, not clothes.”
“And yet.” I pointed to the wall clock.
“No way.” His eyes widened. “I guess we did just talk about clothes and shopping for, like, two hours. Crazy.” His relaxed smile appeared, the one that changed his whole face. When he talked about his passions, he became a different person.
He reached for the test phone. “Sorry I took up your whole night. You’d probably rather be out with Maya.”
“Actually, my big plans included cutting out facing to practice a notch collar.” With dance movies as my soundtrack, but he didn’t need to know that much.
“Sounds complicated.”
“More than coding an app?”
“Absolutely.”
I handed over the phone and squished myself up to standing from the beanbag. “I suppose if you’re done with my expertise, I could head home.” No one would be there, since Abuelita had her card night with my aunt across town, and Mami said she’d be working late.
Liam stood, and the two of us faced one another. Liam, with freckles scattered faintly over his nose, watched me even though I was the one to last say something. He blinked a bunch of times, then moved across the room and slid a door open on the media center. “We could watch a movie.”
I don’t know why, but I felt relieved. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
“Really?”
Funny he acted surprised, since he was the one to ask me. “What do you have?”
He turned back to the media center. “We’ve got everything. Even some documentaries. We have the one about that fashion editor.”
“Ooh!” I joined him by the movie collection and pulled the case from the shelf. “Professor B. mentioned this. She knows the director. You don’t mind?”
“Consider this research. Hey, do you want popcorn? I can make some.”
“I live for popcorn and movie nights.” My phone buzzed. I needed to text Abuelita, anyway, to let her know I’d be staying in case she came home early. I clicked the phone on.
Ethan: Party tonight. Want to come?
“Good news?” Liam looked from me to my phone. “Or bad? Is your grandma worried you’re out late?”
“No. Um, just a friend. I’ll text back later.”
When Liam left for the kitchen, I looked at the text again. Two months ago, I would have shut down Johnny mid-stitch to hang out with Ethan Laurenti. But that was two months ago. Cutting out now—no, I couldn’t do that to Liam. Plus, I promised myself no Ethan. No Ethan.
Liam returned with popcorn and root beer. The really good root beer that came in a dark bottle with an old-timey label bragging about being aged in barrels. Credit to Liam for good snack food. I tucked my phone in my bag and settled in.
“It’s really interesting how shifting consumer mind-sets are threatening the world of fast fashion.” These were words I never would have strung together before the internship and never dreamed I’d say to Liam Laurenti.
We’d just finished the fashion documentary, and Liam walked me down the west wing staircase.
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Liam traced a finger along the woodwork of the staircase bannister. “I thought so, too. And how our generation values experiences over accumulating things.”
“The best part about going to New York isn’t the clothes I brought back. It was meeting other designers, and learning, and going to the top of the Empire State Building. It was going to a possibly illegal party in a warehouse.” At least I could say I’d done it, regardless of hating basically every second of being there. “I think your fashion app adds to that. It’s about helping people find their best fit, to spend their money in the best way. The app itself is the experience.”
A light filled his eyes. “I want to make something that changes people. That helps them. Even if it seems like it’s about clothes.”
“A portal into another fashion dimension,” I said, using his own words from how he’d described my closet.
“Yes! A fashion portal. An experiential fashion portal.”
“All we need is an ageless Fashion Lord.”
Liam froze. “Did you just make a Doctor Who reference?”
“Possibly.” I grinned. “I have other interests besides fashion, you know.”
I was about to say more, when laughing cut through the air. High-pitched giggling and a deeper, male chuckle. Haylo and Ethan stumbled through the hall to where we stood.
Ethan came to a clumsy halt when he saw us. “Amelia?”
“Hey, guys.” Liam said.
“Liam!” Haylo threw her arms around him. Liam began to hug her back, decided against it and lowered his arms, but only halfway. He finally ended up patting her lightly on the shoulder.
“I thought you were out?” Ethan said to me.
“I was here. We were working on Liam’s project.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed. “Project? For what?”
Alterations Page 15