Sirenz - By Charlotte Bennardo Page 0,3
to trade notes with her on the nuances of techno. I was beginning to think that I might ask her to burn a CD for me when Sweet Jeans asked, “Hey, you two wanna come? They’re only playing tonight. I’m sure I can talk all three of us in.” He turned to me and tilted his head in such a cute way.
I knew what Meg wanted to do. She’d rather go to a club than out shopping. I was considering changing our plans, but we’d never be able to talk at a club, and we had to clear a few things up. And, it was a designer sale.
“Sorry,” I said, making a sad face. “We already have a commitment.”
Meg sighed loudly, but before she could protest, Sweet Jeans nodded, saying, “That’s cool. Some other time.” He stood to leave. I thought I could see steam coming from Meg’s ears.
“Please,” I mouthed. She clenched her teeth and shook her head.
“Catch you later.” He waved and winked at us, then pushed his way out the door, letting in a blast of arctic air.
“Fantastic,” Meg mumbled, taking her first bite of congealed pizza. Served her right for talking too much.
After a dinner in stony silence, we trudged the remaining blocks to the sample sale, arriving just as the doors opened. A crush of people pushed their way inside.
“If you wanted to go body surfing, we should have gone to that club. I should have gotten his name! Remind me again why I’m here with you?”
“You’ll see,” I assured her, but not with complete enthusiasm. Maybe we should have taken him up on his offer, but we were here now. I started to wonder how far two hundred dollars would go. I’d saved for over a month for this sale.
Once the crowd dispersed, Meg started to wander off, although not before I instructed her to call me if she found something I might like and vice versa. How did anyone shop before cell phones? After a last skeptical glance from her, I took off for the dresses.
An hour later, we caught up. Meg had a pair of over-sized Chanel sunglasses propped on her head and several shoe boxes tucked under her arms. I hadn’t found a little black dress. Or jeans. Or a sweater. Not even a belt. How could I come away from a sample sale with nothing?
“These looked interesting,” she said in a voice that sounded like they didn’t interest her at all. As she dumped the boxes in front of me, a ruby gleam caught my eye and I reached into the pile.
“I love these red patent heels! I’ll take them.” I pulled the lid off the box and caressed the shiny leather. Little gold charms. A sexy instep strap. Gorgeous. Irresistible.
She looked at me, shocked.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
I tilted the box upright to check the size. “They’re a ten, you’re a nine. They won’t fit right.”
“I’m a nine and a half.” She paused and stole a glance at the printing on the side. “And they’re Vivienne Westwood.” She put her hands on the box.
I tugged back. “Since when do you care about labels?”
“They’re too quirky for you!” Meg pulled again.
“They’re too conservative for you,” I argued, tightening my grip.
“I thought you said my challenge was to find something not black!”
“Since when do you ever listen to me?” I growled, not letting go.
“Katharine was right when she said that things hadn’t turned out as I expected. I saw her look at you when she said that. She was referring to us.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
“It’s been so obvious that you don’t want to be stuck with me.” Meg compressed her lips and looked away.
“Look, I know we don’t have that much in common, but—”
“Exactly,” Meg scoffed. “Miss Teen Vogue.”
“Like you’ve never looked at those magazines!” I shot back.
“Oh, yes—such great reading material. Everything I don’t want to know about making up, making out, and making prom queen,” she retorted with a sneer.
“That’s so mean! And I did you a favor by bringing you here!” My lip started to tremble. I would not cry! Instead, I got mad. How dare she speak to me like that! I gave her my angriest scowl. “Why would you want these shoes? They’re not fifty years old!”
The few people around us stopped to stare. Meg’s face turned a pretty pink, like a storybook piglet.
“And they’re designer, too! Oooh,” I rushed on, “if you get them, won’t you somehow be taking food out of the mouths