The Dream Trotters

Chapter 11

That next afternoon, Phillipa and Finn were excused from school to go shopping for the presidential visit. They had both been gifted large sums of money from the government, almost four thousand dollars.  Climbing once more into the backseat of the Ferari, Phillipa was once again uncomfortable.   

Phillipa was almost ashamed of her family’s car.  They drove, no other than, a tan minivan.  Even though Phillipa didn’t come from a large family, her mother was never the type to splurge on expensive cars.   When she learned to drive, she wouldn’t be caught dead in that vehicle.

Because the top was off, wind fluttered through her hair, wrenching it from the ponytail and throwing it every which way.  For a few seconds, she felt dauntless and happy, but then her self-consciousness returned, and she realized that she probably looked like an idiot.

When the car finally stopped, she straightened up her appearance and hopped out, staring longingly back at the car.  She would obviously never drive something that prestigious, but almost anything would surpass a minivan.  They entered a vast mall, which was ultimately overwhelming.  Finally, Finn had found poster, which showed the lay of the shopping center.

After a few minutes of temperate bickering, the pair picked a few stores that they wanted to visit.   They visited store after store, which sold men’s clothing.  In each store, they would put on a fashion show.  Finn would choose a couple of jackets, slacks, et cetera, and then emerge from the dressing room with his best runway strut.  

The funny thing was, once and a while the other stoppers would stop and clap for him, not even in a mocking way.  The key component, which made the outfits work, was confidence, a commodity that Phillipa was sorely lacking in.

Unlike Finn, Phillipa would pick out a few items at each store and enter the dressing room in seclusion.  Phillipa hated dressing rooms.  Mirrors encompassed her entire physique, taunting her with images of herself, no matter where she looked.  To be truthful, she always avoided mirrors.  They would always point out every little blemish on her face, making her feel like each zit was highlighted for the world to see.  

Phillipa pulled on a black mini-skirt and a button up oxford.  The outfit fit, but it wasn’t flattering in the least.  You see, Phillipa was the kind of person who dressed for safety and comfort.  For her, gutsy was not wearing socks with dress shoes.  In the end, it was inevitable.  She had to look in the mirror.

What she saw, it disappointed her.  Her face was flushed just a little above normal, her hair was just slightly askew and the outfit was bland.   Phillipa wanted to sit and cry or maybe just run out of the dressing room as fast as she could.

“Um, Pip, are you going to come out any time soon?” Finn asked this with a little impatience in his voice, but mostly just concern.  She quickly removed the outfit and returned to her jeans and sweatshirt.

Then she folded up the clothes and exited, leaving the taunting mirrors behind her, yet keeping their insults.  Pipa exited back into the dressing room hall, where Finn sat on a couch, absorbed in her phone.

“Can we go now?”  she startled Finn from his technological trance and he jolted slightly.  His eyes faltered from her face, to the miniscule stack of clothing that she held.

“Are you going to buy those?”

“No, they… um… didn’t fit.”  In her mind, Phillipa wanted to shout out that she was just insecure and that really it was her fashion sense that didn’t fit.  But she bit her lip, reeling back emotions and placing them in her overflowing emotional piggy bank.

Soon, Finn had bought enough clothes to professionally clothe a debate student for years and it became Phillipa’s turn.  

But Finn caught a sliver of her uncertainty and seemed to know better.  He had her set down the clothing and sit on the chair.  Minutes later, he rushed back in from the main section of the store, arms laden with clothing.  Phillipa tried to object, to say she was forever done with dressing rooms, but he just shoved the clothes in a stall and gently, but commandingly shoved her in among them.