“Tina, you know I’m not into fancy clothes and shit. I’ll just wear jeans, and a shirt.”
“No, you damn well won’t. If Mom and Dad are going to take us out somewhere nice, you’re dressing up.” She grabs onto my arm and starts dragging me toward the closest fashion store.
Slumping my shoulders, I follow. I know when it comes to clothes, Tina’s going to win every time. I’ve learned over the years to just go with it. Put up a bit of resistance, and if she backs down, yay. If not, suck it up and go with it. “I don’t want to do this,” I whine.
“Too bad,” she snaps back. “Oh, I like this.” She picks up a floral dress, and holds it up against my body. “It’s cute. Flirty even. Off-the-shoulder, fitted to the waist, then slightly flared to the knees.” She thrusts the coat hanger in my hands, and I stand like a mannequin holding the stupid dress. “Hmmm. Nah, I don’t think it’s going to work. You have nice size boobs, we have to show them off.”
“Now we’re talking about my boobs? Really?” I grumble.
“Yep. And you have really nice legs. Your ass is flat though. Like a guy’s butt. So we don’t want to show that off.” I shake my head.
“Hi, can I help you?” the young shop assistant asks.
“No, we’ve got it, thanks,” Tina replies.
“Help me. Save me,” I joke. The assistant smiles at us both, then quickly leaves to help another customer. “Can we just buy this and go?” I really hate shopping.
“Nope. I don’t like it.” She takes the dress, puts it on the rack, and continues browsing the store. “Oh, I really like this.” She holds up a black dress. One that doesn’t look like it would fit my thigh, let alone the rest of my body. “Yep. You’re trying this on.”
“Are you kidding? There’s not enough stretch in the material to get it over my head.”
“Why do you do that? You’re smoking hot. And you dress like you’re a fifty-year-old grandmother. You’re going to try it, and I know you’re going to love it. Excuse me,” she calls the assistant over. “Change rooms?”
“At the back of the store, around the corner.” The girl points.
“Thank you,” Tina happily chirps. She’s way too happy for me to try on clothes. I detest clothes shopping. Hate it with a passion, so the quicker we can get this over and done with, the better. “Go, and I have to see it. Because I know you, you’ll go and stand in the change room, not try it on, and say you don’t like it.”
I try to hold in the smile, but I can’t. “Fine.” I snatch the dress from her, and head to the change rooms. Closing the loose curtains, I quickly slip out of my jeans and t-shirt, and hold the dress up in front of me. “Ugh,” I grumble. “My pillowcases have more material than you,” I mumble at the dress. I slide it over my head, and glide it down over my hips, to my thighs. “Hell no!” I look at myself in the mirror, in shock at what it reflects back at me.
“Let me look!” Tina draws back the curtain. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. “Hell yes!” she says. “You look hot! Man, your boobs look so good. I wish mine looked like yours.” She reaches out and cups her hands around my breasts. She lifts them slightly, then steps back. “Yeah, you don’t even need a push-up bra. Turn around.” Why do I feel like her own personal doll? “Shit, man. Even your butt looks rounder than what it is.”
I turn to look at myself in the mirror, and I can’t help but like how my butt looks. “It’s too short though,” I whine as I try to pull the dress down.
“You can’t see your vagina, so why are you complaining?”
“If I bend over, everyone will know I’ve had toast for breakfast.”
“You over-exaggerate everything. Here, step forward.” I do. “Turn around, and bend in front of me.”
“I’m not bending in front of you, Tina.” I roll my eyes and let out a sigh.
“If you can’t do this stuff in front of me, then who can you do it in front of? Just trust me. Bend,” she demands. I groan, but do as she asks. “Stay there.” Her fingers go near my bottom. About three inches down. “This is where the dress ends. So no. If you bend, we won’t know you had toast for breakfast. This is a hot dress. It makes your legs look longer, and your boobs don’t need assistance. Your butt looks really good. We’re buying it.”
“Tina,” I argue as I straighten and turn.
“We’re buying it,” she says over her shoulder as she leaves.
Just go with it, Molly. If rolling eyes was a national sport, I would’ve already won a gold medal. I close the curtains, and quickly change back into my comfortable jeans and t-shirt. I place the dress on the coat hanger, and pray I can sneak it back to the rack before Tina sees. No such luck, she’s waiting outside at the entrance of the changing rooms, leaning against the wall. She holds her hand out to me. “Ugh,” I grumble.
“Whatever. And I have the nicest pair of red high heels you’re going to borrow.”
“Can’t I wear my Converse?”
She turns and shoots me a dirty look. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”
“I can’t walk in heels. I’ll look like a baby elephant on rollerblades.”
Tina smiles. “Then you’re going to have to practice when we get home.”
Can this get any worse? “Are we done playing dress-up?” I drag myself to the counter, where Tina takes her charge card out and hands it to the girl so she can pay for this stupid dress.
“Now I have to find something for me. But, I saw this cute dress on-line. So we’re going to one of the stores down the other end.” Tina keeps walking as she talks. I kind of tune out, not because I don’t care, but because when Tina starts talking about clothes, she can go on for hours. We walk to the other end of the mall, and Tina disappears inside a boutique dress store.
Dragging my feet, I follow her into the store. “That’s cute,” I say as I hold up the first thing I see.
Tina turns to see what I’m holding, and her nose scrunches as she grimaces. “That’s horrific. How are we related?”
“No need to say anything, your face gives away how you’re feeling. Maybe I should grab something, make you try it on, then feel your breasts. See how you like it.”
“One.” She holds up her finger. “I don’t care. And two.” She holds up another finger. “I don’t care.” She smiles cheekily, swings on her heels and keeps perusing the racks of clothing. “I have no idea why you don’t like fashion. We are sisters and all.”
“Wow, are you two sisters?” the sales assistant asks.
No one ever picks us as sisters. We’ve been asked if we’re a gay couple, or cousins, but not sisters. Not that we look like each other. Tina has short blonde hair, with pale skin and the biggest blue eyes. My hair is long and brown, and my complexion is more olive. My eyes are a dark brown so dark, you could be forgiven for thinking they’re black.
“We are,” I say to the assistant.
“Adopted,” Tina echoes in.
“Oh,” the girl replies as her brows fly up. I bet she’s wondering which one of the two of us is adopted. Everyone always asks. But she doesn’t. “Can I help you?”
“There’s a dress I saw online, and I want to try it on. It’s red, it has a really low-cut front, comes to here,” she points to between her breasts, “thick straps, and a low-cut back.”
“Oh, yeah. This way.” The assistant heads toward the side of shop.
“I’m going to go buy a coffee, want one?” I ask Tina.
“Nope. Don’t go too far, you need to give me your opinion on how hot I look in the dress.”
I shake my head, but smile. Tina is full-on. It’s the only way to describe her. She’s like a battery that recharges when she’s asleep, and she wakes with so much energy. She’s also always intense about everything. She loves with her whole heart, and hates with it too if you wrong her.
I head over to a small coffee shop, and order my latte. As I stand and wait for it, I get knocked forward by someone. “Hey,” I say as I turn to see who the culprit is.
I want to snap at him, but he looks genuinely apologetic for knocking into me. “It’s okay.” I turn forward again, waiting for them to call my name for my latte.
There’s a tap on my shoulder, and I turn to see the same guy. “I really am sorry,” he says.
“It’s okay. Don’t sweat it.”
“Let me buy you a coffee. Just to say I’m sorry. I feel so bad.”
“Molly,” the barista calls and slides my coffee along the counter top.
“I’ve already got one. But thank you.” I pick my coffee up, and start heading back to where Tina is.
“Dylan,” the barista calls as I walk away, and the guy steps forward to get his coffee. He grabs it and catches up to me quickly. “Hey, Molly?”
“You were eavesdropping. Or stalking. Which one?’ I ask.
“Oh my God. I’m not a stalker. I promise. Oh crap, only a stalker would say they’re not a stalker.” His face reddens. “I should go. I’m so sorry.” He steps back, and just by the pitch of his voice, I can tell he’s worried about what I think of him.
I turn to see him walking away from me, while he’s shaking his head. He must be upset with himself. “Hey, Dylan,” I call before he gets too far away. He turns, and waits for me to say something. I flick my head at him, indicating he can come back.
He jogs a few steps, which looks awkward considering he’s wearing office clothes. “Hang on. Are you stalking me?” he asks.
“Well, obviously. I know your name’s Dylan. And you work in the office over there.” I tip my head to the side, not really having an idea where he works.
He turns to face the direction I gestured. “You think I work in the female bathrooms?”
I look over, and sure enough, there are the female rest rooms. “I was reaching. I have no idea where you work.”
He smiles, and I’m drawn by his enigmatic charm. There’s something about him. He’s old-school, but in a young guy’s body. “Well, I can tell you, I don’t work in the female rest rooms.”
“Does that mean you work in the male bathrooms? Are you a janitor? Hey, if you are, no judgment from me.”
“What? No.” He lets out a soft chuckle, and even the deep pitch of his voice invites me in. “I’m a security analyst over at Collins and Partners,” he clarifies.
“Collins and Partners? As in the lawyers?”
“Yeah, that’s them. But I’m not a lawyer, so please don’t hate me.”
I let out a laugh. Dylan’s goofy, but fun. “Why would I…”
“You were supposed to help me, oh, hello,” Tina says as she approaches me. She stops in mid-sentence when she sees me talking to Dylan. Men love Tina. She’s outgoing, and funny, and drop-dead gorgeous with her long legs, perfect figure, and big blue eyes. “Who are you?” she asks as she eyes him up and down.
“Hi, I’m Dylan.” He holds his hand out to shake hers.
She takes his hand in hers, and turns her head to look at me. Her arched eyebrow tells me she’s silently pushing me to ask him out. I look at her, and give her a small head shake, pursing my lips together. “Fine. I’ll do it then.”
“Stop it!” I say, trying to stop Tina before her speedy mouth gets me into trouble.
“Um, I’m sorry. Are you two a couple or something?” Dylan steps back, ready to flee.
“No, we’re not. We’re sisters,” I reply.
“Oh, right. Okay.” He looks confused.
“Are you going to ask her out?” Tina blurts.
“Now it’s my turn to apologize.” I grab Tina’s hand, and pull her away from Dylan. “Can you, for once, not do what you usually do?”
“What?”
“You steamroll over everyone. It’s embarrassing. Please,” I beg. I let out a sigh, and avert my gaze. “Don’t worry about it,” I say, losing all hope of a possible date with Dylan. He probably isn’t even attracted to me now that he’s seen Tina.
“Hey, I’ve gotta go to the shoe store upstairs. I’ll be back in about ten minutes, okay?” Tina asks. This is her apology. Her way of saying, she’s sorry for being so forceful. She leans in to give me a hug. “He’s cute, go for it,” she whispers. And just like that, my frustration is quickly replaced with a smile.
“Think so?”
She pulls away, and winks at me. “See ya around,” she says to Dylan before flittering away like beautiful butterfly.
He steps closer, and turns to look at Tina. “Wow,” he says as he focuses on me. “Is she always like that?”
“You mean a live wire?” He nods his head. “Yep, that’s my sister.”
“Wow,” he says again.
My stomach churns with the thought of him being attracted to her, and not me. It makes perfect sense. She’s really special, whereas, I’m not. I’m just me. Plain, boring, quiet Molly. She’s vivacious and intoxicating. I’m mild and reserved. She makes friends everywhere she goes. I prefer to stick my headphones on and listen to music. I’m a homebody. Other people don’t really interest me.
“I can give you her number,” I say.
“Why do you think I want her number?” He gestures to a bench seat, and waits for me to walk ahead.
“Because you’ve said ‘wow’ twice in the moments since you’ve met her.”
“I’m sure your sister is great, but I prefer brunettes.” His lips turn up into a cheeky grin.
“Oh, right,” I feel my cheeks turn pink. “Anyway.” I sit on the bench, and turn my body toward him. “Tell me about your job as a security analyst. Is it exciting?”
“It’s interesting, and complicated. But I’d like to get to know you better. How about dinner?”
What? He wants to take me out for dinner? “Wh-what?” I stammer.
“You know. That thing people have anywhere between six and nine at night. You sit at this magical invention called a table.”
A goofy smile tugs at my lips. He makes me smile. “Dinner would be nice.” I’ve never really been out on a date before. Unless you consider Hank Reed a date in freshman year. All he wanted was to kiss and grope me. He made me feel really uncomfortable and kinda freaked me out.
A shiver runs up my spine with the mere thought of Hank Reed.
“You okay?” Dylan asks.
“Yeah, sorry. Just…” I shudder, and push the thought of Hank as far down as I can. “It’s okay.” I flick my hand, dismissively.
“So, what about dinner tomorrow night?” he asks, eagerly.
“I can’t.”
“Oh.” Dylan looks away. “Well, nice talking to you, Molly.” I think he thinks I’m blowing him off.
He goes to stand, but I place my hand on his firm arm. “I meant I can’t have dinner tomorrow night, because it’s Tina’s and my birthday.”
“You’re twins?” He cocks his head to the side.
“No, nothing like that.” I chuckle, because I understand the confusion. “We’re both adopted. But our birthdays are on the same day, in the same year.”
He looks in the direction of Tina, then back to me. “I know I shouldn’t ask a lady her age, but how old are you?”
“We’ll be eighteen tomorrow.”
“Um. Okay then.” He nervously wipes at his brow. “Um.”
I recognize that emotion right away. Surprise at my age. “It’s okay,” I say as I stand. “I get it. I’m too young, or too old. I’m too something. Whatever.” I offer him a smile.
“No. It’s not that,” he adds.
“What is it then?”
He stares at me. “I can’t lie to you, Molly. I think I’m too old for you.”
I shrug. “Okay then. If you say so.”
I take a step back from him. “Wait, don’t you want to know how old I am?”
I turn to face him, and find he’s now standing a little bit too close to me. I shake my head. “You’ve made up your mind about me and for me, there’s no use in trying to convince you otherwise. Have a good day,
Dylan.” I smile again to hide the pain of his rejection.
Crash and burn.
“No, wait.”
I hold my hand up over my shoulder as I walk away.
I head toward the store Tina said she was headed to, and don’t look back.
Truth be told though, I’m hurt.
But I’m not going to let him ruin my day.
“Are you going to tell me what happened yesterday with that cute guy?” Tina asks as she looks through my closet.
“Nothing to tell.” I shrug my shoulders.
“Nah, there is. You’ve been quiet since we got back from the mall. I mean, more quiet than normal.”
“If there’s nothing to say, then why talk for the hell of it?” I fidget with the hem of my t-shirt.
“Hmm,” Tina mumbles as she turns to give me the stink eye. “I know there’s more to what you’re saying.”
“Are you excited about dinner tonight?” I ask, trying to change her focus from me.
“Am I ever! I think I want to put make-up on you. A full face. What do you think?”
Ugh, no thank you. But I know if I don’t say yes, she’s going to continue asking questions about Dylan. I’d best distract her by agreeing to whatever she wants to do. “Sure, that’ll be nice. Just nothing too dramatic. Subtle.”
“Subtle. Yeah, okay, I can do subtle. Maybe some vivid eye color though. That dress is gorgeous, so what if I do smoky eyes and red lips, and I’ve got to get my shoes. Hang on.” She leaves my closest, and runs to her room which is on the other side of my wall. Mom’s and Dad’s suite is at the other end of the hall upstairs. “Here you go. Put them on, and walk in them.” She hands me a pair of red, extremely high heels.
I hesitantly reach out to take them. “Oh, I see. You want to visit me in the hospital tonight, do you?”
“They’re not that high,” Tina teases. “Try them on.”
There’s no way in hell, I’ll be able to walk in these shoes. Nope, impossible. But, if Tina doesn’t see me try them, then she’s not going to believe me when I say I can’t walk in them. I slide them on. Damn it, they fit perfectly. Standing, I try to balance on the thinnest heel I’ve ever seen on a shoe. “I can’t wear these,” I say as I shuffle forward. “I can’t even lift my foot. How do you walk in these?”
Echoes of You Page 4