On the Fence(9)

Braden reached up and pushed me over a little so he could see the TV.

“Oh, excuse me, was I in your way?”

“Yes, actually, so move it or lose it.”

“Lose what?”

He pushed on the back of my knee with his foot and my leg gave out from under me, causing me to fall, the soda cans landing on the floor.

“Death to you.”

I dropped to my hands and knees on the floor and collected the soda cans, then carried them toward the kitchen. As I reached the door, I looked over my shoulder. All their eyes were glued to the television. Warmth surged through my cold heart. I loved these guys so much. They were my life and I couldn’t think of anything better than all of us together, just hanging out and doing nothing. I must have lingered in my happy feelings for too long, because Braden looked up, met my eyes, then gave me the “What’s your deal?” face: one eyebrow raised, mouth twisted up.

I scrunched my nose at him and then walked into the kitchen.





Chapter 6

I hoped so badly that the guys never, ever came to visit me at work. This was my wish the next day as I stood in front of what had to be the most awful mirrors in the world—they showed three angles simultaneously—trying on the bajillionth outfit for Linda. I looked ridiculous.

We were behind some large flowered screens at the back of the store, so at least people walking by on the street outside couldn’t witness my humiliation.

“These clothes fit you well,” she said, adjusting the flowing top that hung a little too low in the front for my taste. I was used to the high neck of a T-shirt. And I always thought jeans were meant for comfort. These jeans felt like they were attempting to hold my thighs in place.

“This is why models are so tall. Because clothes look good on tall people. It’s completely unfair.”

“Okay, I think I’m done playing dress-up forever. Which ones do you want me to buy?”

“Well, that’s up to you, Charlie. Which ones speak to you?”

I coughed as I got a big whiff of the incense she had lit for this “experience.” I waved my hand through the air. “Not a single piece of clothing spoke to me.”

She placed a finger on my forehead. One thing I was learning rather quickly about Linda was that she didn’t understand the concept of personal space. Not that I had a lot of personal space in my life, but generally strangers granted me that much. “Find your center. Feel your aura,” she said, her finger still on my head.

“Neither me nor my aura know how to pick out clothes. Which ones do you like?”

“Okay. That’s very practical of you. We are never fair judges of ourselves. An outside observer is much more likely to accurately tell us what looks the best on us.” She studied all the clothes I had tried on.

A movement to my right caught my eye and I looked over.

“Mama Lou, how old is this Chinese food?” Skye, the girl with the pink-tipped hair who had referred me to Linda, walked out from the back room, holding up a container and tilting it so we could see the noodles inside. I didn’t even know she was here. “Oh. Hi, Charlie. Cute outfit.” She pointed at me with a fork.

I tugged on the bottom of the uncomfortable shirt, wondering if it was see-through. The material felt so thin. “Thanks.”

Linda looked up in surprise. “Skye. When did you get here?”

“Just now. I came in the back door.” She plopped down on a red circular ottoman next to the mirrors and lifted a forkful of noodles.

“I’m not sure how old that food is. At least a few days.”

Skye sniffed it, then put it in her mouth.

Linda started separating the clothes I had tried on into two piles. “To buy now.” She pointed at one pile. “To buy later.” She nodded toward the other. Then she looked at the outfit still on my body. The mirror in front of me assured me the top wasn’t see-through, but it felt so light. And it had a flower pattern on it. I could confidently say that I had never worn anything with flowers on it before. Well, maybe when I was five.

“And to wear now,” she said, referring to the outfit I wore.

“Uh . . . I don’t know that my aura is ready to jump right in with flowers.”

She laughed like I was kidding but then threw me a striped shirt, which I changed into quickly.

“Let me ring this stuff up, then you can start work.”

It felt like I had been hard at work for the last hour trying on those clothes. It was exhausting, and I hoped I never had to do it again. I checked myself out in the mirror again. I didn’t look like me.

“You look great,” Skye assured me through a mouthful of noodles.

When I came out from behind the screens Linda smiled. “So nice.” She sighed like she had just performed some miracle and was pleased with the results. At least, until her gaze reached my face and hair. I could tell she wanted to say something, but it was one thing to tell someone to change her clothes; it was a whole other thing to tell someone her face could use some work.

She positioned herself behind the register, and I watched as the number on the tiny black screen got bigger and bigger.

“Skye,” Linda called. “I got some more colored dye in.”

Skye leaped off her low stool and headed for the hutch in the corner. “Green. Nice. I’m coming back after closing so you can help me.”