Living in Lies ✧ S.W [1]

chapter fourteen

"Damn. Is this a mall or Paris Hilton's closet?" Dean exclaims as we pull up to the huge, windowed place with a variety of people walking inside.

"It's the biggest mall in the city," I state, then open the backdoor of the impala. Sam follows and we're soon standing outside together. "Thanks for taking us Dean! Sam'll text you when to pick us up," I call through the rolled down window of the passengers side.

"Yeah, okay," Dean says, but seems to have his attention more towards the two blonde girls walking slowly in front of the impala.

I chuckle, then turn back to see Sam staring at the front of the huge mall like a wonderstruck puppy.

"This place is big," he says.

"You should see the inside," I chuckle, while taking his hand and pulling him through the swinging doors that currently are not too busy, which frankly surprises me.

Considering the last time I came in here I basically had gotten bombarded by a stampede of stuck up, bleached haired teens thinking that they need to get the latest shirt from Forever 21, Hollister, or Gucci, or else it will ruin their social reputation.

We walk in and the large aroma of fancy perfumes, popcorn, and leather hits me all at once, making me smile at the familiar smells. Talking buzzes throughout my ears.

Polished girls are walking around with cellphones pushed to their ears, or either going into a new store with their boyfriends trailing behind with handfuls of their bags or their friends.

I feel like a homeless person entering in here with my worn out shoes, out of date jeans, and a plain, boring light blue shit. Not to mention that my sloppy makeup job and messy bed head don't help my appearance very much.

Not after today though. I won't feel like an unwanted puppy at a shelter that all the kids don't want to buy because it doesn't talk like in the movies, or can't help to look as pretty as all the other cuter puppies.

One thing is that I may look like a lost girl in the mall. But, really, people have no idea what I'm capable of. I can be a natural born shopper when I want to be. It's something that doesn't take long to find within me.

Give me your credit card, a random store, and I can come back looking like a supermodel as happy as getting her first boob job.

"So, we're just going to get a new pair of shorts then leave?" Sam asks, looking down at me.

I place my hands on my hips, and furrow my eyebrows in disappointment up at him.

"Sam, you don't go to a mall to receive one thing. You end up walking out with an empty wallet, lots of shopping bags, and a tried, yet happy smile on your face. That's how shopping works. Unless it's Black Friday or Christmas Eve. Then it's like the Hunger Games."  I slightly shudder.

"Okay, so where do we start?" He asks, his eyes peering around at all of the colorful, different varietied stores that are filled with unspeakable treasures waiting for the two of us to discover.

I peer around also, until my eyes glue towards one of my absolute favourite stores in the whole entire world.

Grabbing Sam's hand, I pull him towards the black and pink stripped store, that has pictures of girls modelling in lingerie in the front with huge smiles of seduction plastered on their perfectly highlighted/contoured faces.