Just The Way I Am - Jo Watson Page 0,46

I would say a twelve in jeans. You’ve got a great figure, actually.” She took some things off the rack and handed them to me. “There’s a makeshift change room at the back, and a mirror, if you want to try these on.”

I looked at the clothes in my hands, and back at the clothes on the rack. They all seemed to blur into one another. None of the colors popped or shouted at me. None of the shapes and lines spoke to me like the art on the walls outside had, or Sindi’s bright green wall, or the blue abstract sculpture.

“Is this all you have? I don’t want to sound ungrateful or anything, but, I don’t know. These are all so . . . plain?”

“You don’t think these are you?”

“Well, I’m not sure I know what me is, but these don’t really seem to be me. If that makes sense.” I looked at Noah and he nodded.

“It does,” he said.

“I know these are similar to the clothes I went to the hospital in, but those clothes don’t feel like me either. Maybe I was going to a smart meeting, maybe those were work clothes or . . . I don’t know how to explain it. But blue jeans and beige tops just don’t feel like me.”

“I have other clothes at the back,” Sindi said, “but those aren’t ordinary clothes. They’re more like costumes that I made for shows . . . stuff like that.”

“Let’s see,” I said, as she led me past the racks to the back of the storeroom. A smallish space had been cleared there and a full-length mirror was attached to one of the walls and, in the corner, a sheet had been draped on a wooden frame to create a changing area.

“I have these.” She pointed to the last few racks.

I cast my eye over them and smiled: yellow and blue and green. Bright and bold and twirling together. Twists and pops of color shouting and screaming at me. I reached out and touched one of the items, a long dress, and as soon as my fingertips came into contact with the dress, I knew.

“These. I like these.” Excitement made my voice loud and high-pitched. “What are they?”

Sindi laughed. “Those are costumes from the musical Hair I did a few years back. I tie-dyed them myself. Very sixties.”

“I love them!” I pulled the dress from the rack and held it in front of me. I could feel myself smiling at the piece, as if it was out of my control. As if this unique blend of colors was forcing the smile onto my face. I saw Noah and Sindi exchange a look.

“What?” I turned to Noah. “You think it doesn’t suit me?”

“With a smile like that, you’ll suit anything,” Sindi said, then she looked over at her brother and raised her brows.

“Yes,” he said. “With a smile like that . . .” His voice tapered off and I got that rising hot feeling on my skin again.

“Do you want to try it on?” Sindi pulled the curtain aside.

“Okay!” I rushed in, eager to rid myself of the clothes I was wearing and put something on that was more me. The dress in my hand was the most vibrant thing I’d ever touched. The yellow color was in the center of a big circle, like the sun, and from it radiated this bright teal and lime that faded into the surrounding white of the dress.

“Here.” Sindi said as a swath of fabric come over the top of the changing-room wall. “This is a headband that goes with the dress, but it’s probably waaaay too much.”

I took the fabric in my hands: bright yellow sequins and beads and bells hung from it. “I love it.”

I whipped my clothes off and then climbed into the dress. It was a maxi, almost touching the floor, and it fell in a way that when you moved from side to side, it swished like water might do. The fabric looked alive. Like it was its own living, breathing creature. The sleeves were long and bell-bottom shaped, gaping open at the elbows and hanging down in long wisps. I wrapped the headband around the top of my head and, when I was happy with it, I pulled the curtain aside and burst back into the room with a flourish, my dress flapping against my legs as if it was being blown by the wind.

“Ta-da!” I announced. I felt like a glowing kaleidoscope

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