The da Vinci Project:

Chapter 5

Sophia and Eighteen parted ways with the car a block from the shops. As she walked, Sophia knew her father would be livid with her choice to make the trip on foot, but if she was honest with herself, the weight of the silence in the limo had become unbearable. Eighteen was uncharacteristically quiet following their argument, and even now as he followed her, he followed at a slower pace, several steps behind her. She could feel that nagging in her tummy as she moved, that feeling that she may have acted a little to harshly. He had saved her life, after all.

Glancing back over her shoulder, she watched the boy as he walked. He had his hood up, with his hands tucked into the pockets. Eighteen walked with his head down, she noticed, as if he couldn't stand the idea of meeting eyes with the people around him. It was different. Behind the walls of her fathers institute, Eighteen was outright cocky, but out here, he looked unsure.

Sophia was the opposite of her companion. She finally felt free. The air felt cooler, the buildings felt higher and the sidewalks felt as if they rolled on forever. There were no walls encasing her, and no anchors of parental obligation quelling her words and actions.

After a block she lifted her eyes to take in the shops. These were not the shops she preferred. Despite her fathers wealth, Sophia had never felt comfortable dropping two hundred dollars on a pair of jeans, especially when they looked so similar to the jeans her friends purchased for a third of that cost. Then again, Sophia wasn't buying bluejeans. This was a dress for a very special event, and dresses for very special events came from very nice stores.

She eventually selected a shop, one that looked like it wouldn't eject her and Eighteen upon first sight. 

Inside the store Sophia felt her interest slip. The dresses were all beautiful. Long dresses, short dresses, red dresses, blue dresses....

so. many. dresses.

Sophia bit hard on her lower lip. This was overwhelming.  She was so distracted by the task at hand that she didn't notice Eighteen slip up next to her.

"You're heart rate has increased. What's wrong?"

Her heart rate? Sophia looked over to Eighteen, who of course looked perfectly miserable.  "I'm just not sure what I want." She heard herself admit easily, "I guess I don't know what to get. I've never actually gone to one of these events before."

The boy next to her nodded softly. He seemed to understand what she meant, because a second later he spoke. "The girls wear long dresses usually. And they wear a lot of black. I think it's a safe color."

Sophia's nose wrinkled. "Of course it would be black."

This oddly got a chuckle out of Eighteen. "I wouldn't put you in black either."

"Oh?" Her brows raised and Sophia glanced at him again, watching him carefully. "What color would you put me in?" 

To her surprise Eighteen looked amused as he scanned the room, taking in the dresses. "Green," he decided a click later. "I would put you in green."

Fifteen minutes later Sophia was staring back at herself from a mirror. Her hand moved down, sweeping over the smooth, silky green fabric of the dress she wore. It wasn't long like the ones that Eighteen had described, instead it rested a modest couple inches above her knees, flaring out fully around her.  The body reminded her of  a tutu, but more adult, like a prom dress she'd seen on TV once. She smiled. He was right, green was much better than black.

Glancing at the floor, she laughed gently at the sight of her sneakers with the dress. She couldn't help but wonder what her father would say if she tried to pull that off for the event. While part of her thought that he was so desperate to win her over he may overlook it, another part of her could almost hear him lecturing her on her public face, and how important it was that she appear poised and obedient.   It made her feel nauseous.