High Life | ✔️

18

THE CLOSEST MALL to the DuPont estate was a place called Westfield Valley Fair.

I didn't know what to expect, the name didn't sound an ounce prestigious. But as we approached the steel and glass amalgamation of a shopping mall, I slowly learnt that the entire area was made for people with fat bank accounts.

I had the money, but I really preferred thrift stores. The thrift store gems that I adored, admittedly had the potential to make one look homeless. But what many don't realize is... it's never the clothes or the price of the clothes. It's the demeanour and the attitude and how proudly one wears one's rags. I missed home. I missed being the person I was.

"Are you a picky shopper?"

"Not when it comes to getting prostitute clothes."

"Why are you so willing to do this? To help me out, I mean." Elias asked, curiously. "I honestly thought you'd beg to get dropped off after knowing what I had in store for you."

I wasn't sure myself. "I'm an impulsive person, I guess. I'll probably regret this. I have a History test on Monday."

Elias let out a low whistle as I dragged him into the nearest Forever 21.

I used to shop with Mother. She was big on retail therapy (if therapy could be administered to housewives with a fear of owning out-of-season clothes); a bulk of my earlier teenage years comprised impulsive flights to New York City (on Dad's private jet), I used to be able to manoeuvre Barneys with closed eyelids. Nostalgia overtook my senses as I recalled the immaculate lines of beauty counters, the pale wooden fixtures, the glass cases displaying tiny, exquisite and exorbitantly priced jewellery.

Westfield Valley Fair was clean, modern and every trophy wife's wet dream. I inhaled a breath of Californian air as I took the place in. High end boutiques dragged as far as my eyes would take me. I felt faint excitement bubbling from within - it had been such a long time.

But, with a start, I remembered that my mother had revoked my rights to a credit card. All I had was a puny debit card attached to a current savings account with just enough to sustain myself. My face darkened. Not something Elias took note of.

With reluctance, I was forced to settle on Forever 21. Which wasn't the end of the world, I tried to convince myself. Other than the reasonable prices... there really was no better place to find whorefits than this retail store - if their fishnets and mini skirts on display were anything to go by.

Elias didn't took overly impressed, but he kept silent.

We were approached by a female teenager, deferentially (and slightly ogle-y) upon absorbing the sight of the male figure beside me.

"Hi! W-What can I do for you? Looking for anything in uh, particular?"

Now of all times I found it funny how Elias was here, with me. The two of us of all people, a most unlikely pair, miles from school and about to shop for clothes.

I inclined my head to (not for the first time) take Elias in, to check him out. I sometimes fall asleep convincing myself that I'd someday become desensitised to how weak Elias made my knees. It was easier to maintain my composure in Chem, or when I tried not to take in our situation. But, standing in Forever 21 with some blonde teenager blatantly checking Elias out... it felt hard to dispel feelings of self achievement. Or the modicum of pride that plagued and clouded all five senses.

Elias looked delectable in form fitting, gray T-shirt and branded jeans. He, after an extended silence from my end, looked down and right into my eyes. My knees became jelly.

He laughed and it dragged me out of my reverie. "Andrea? You there?"

I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks color. "Sorry, just... I haven't gone shopping in a very long time."