Knowing Me, Knowing You | (S/P)

Chapter 9

September 04th.

"Remember how I told you that Will showed up at my door the other day?" The words slip out of my mouth as I inspect the different pieces of fabric on the rack of clothes.

"No, you didn't." Abigail flashes me an admonitory glance, her voice high-pitched.

"Well, he did."

I'm not entirely sure that addressing this subject in public is a good idea, but Abigail is at her best when she's shopping, so maybe she will cut me some slack. 

"What did he say?"

"That he and his sorry ass still cared for me."

"He truly seems sorry, Alex." The coolness of her tone irks me. For a psychology major she surely lacks the ability to read the room.

"What side are you on, Abigail?"

"I'm just saying, that maybe you should consider giving him another chance." It sounds like a question, and the way that she looks at me –nose scrunched up, teeth anxiously nibbling on her lower lip – lets me know that she's aware that she's veering near the edge. "You two made a great couple."

I'm a private person. I don't like to flaunt my life around for everyone to see, and judge. Nonetheless, that doesn't apply with Abigail. As best friends, we've discussed every controversial, disgusting, corny, lewd topic that there is.

There's nothing about my past relationship with William Hayes that she doesn't know. I know that she doesn't meant it, but it looks like she's taking sides on this and it...stings.

"I don't care how good we looked; I care about how much he hurt me." My grave voice is enough to let her know that she's pushing at the wrong buttons.

We take the conversation as settled and get back to the real reason we are here –find her a dress for her brother's engagement party.

It's not until almost two hours later that she finally finds a piece that fits her standards. I don't like shopping –I like having new, pretty things, but I can't bother to go through the tribulations of walking in and out of countless fitting rooms. Just another thing that sets Abigail and I apart.

As expected, she doesn't settle after having found a dress, and insists that we try another shop to find something for myself. 

I grab the first dress my eyes land on and step into the fitting room to try it on, although I'm not interested on buying it. Probably if I at least try, Abigail will let it go. I take my washed-out skinny jeans and silk green blouse off, and I put the silver fabric over my shoulders. It's a knee length dress, not too long, but also not short enough to show some indecent amount of skin. This may come in handy for a night out. I step outside of the fitting room to ask Abigail what she thinks about it, but she's nowhere to be seen.

Clueless, I ask the shop assistant if she saw where she went. She tells me she just left the store. Even more puzzled, I walk back inside to look for my phone, but my jaw clenches when I realize that the battery has drained off. Perfect timing.

I wonder what could possibly have happened for her to abandon me like this as I walk out of the store. Walking along the sidewalk, I narrow my eyes trying to spot her. 

This is so Abigail, she always does this to me. She always begs me to go with her to frat parties and then dishes me out as soon as the first guy looks at her. And I never learn.

I don't have time for this. I already wasted great part of my afternoon coming down here with her. Valuable time that I should have spent working on assignments.