Forever Love Sick

Blue Collar

Once I felt its cloud-like sheer material, I knew I had to have it. I had never liked something in this store before until now. Until this sheer shirt. Its blue collar popped against the white. Coral colored sequins decorated its collar. I moved my hand down its fabric before reaching in it to get the tag. No way. I turned and twisted the tag. No. I put the tag back into the shirt. I explored the rest of the store for something just as beautiful as it. No matter where I looked I knew I couldn't find something as great. None of them looked or felt like that shirt did. Before I left, I went back to my shirt running my fingers down its seams.

I go by the next month, hoping to find something just as beautiful as the shirt. However, as I'm looking through the racks, a blue ribbon catches my eye. Its blue beacons acted as a beacon. I picked it up, holding it carefully in my hands. I wanted to try it on so badly. I walked through the store, picking up other shirts of lesser quality. When I went to the changing rooms, I tried on every other shirt I have before it. When I finally pulled it over my head, it felt like silk. The other shirts felt like burlap sacks in comparison. I felt giddy and nervous all at once. The shirt and I, we looked great together. I could just spend all my money on it. I could just...I didn't have money though and I had other things to focus on. No one has bought it yet and it had been one month. Maybe it would be safe. I took the shirt back to the rack. Maybe.

No matter who I was shopping with, I always thought about getting the shirt and going into the store.

"Have you ever been there?" My friend pointed at the store. I could almost see the shirt from where we were.

"Yeah, it's great. Let's go in." I said.

As she walked around the store, I lingered near the shirt. I played with its sleeves as she went through every shirt on each rack. Eventually, she made her way over to me. She picked through the rack until she saw the shirt. Her eyes narrowed like she had locked on a target. My hand stilled.

"That's a really cute shirt." She said.

"Yeah," I said back.

"Are you going to buy it?" she asked.

"I will...soon." I said back. She moved on. I had to buy it. I bring it to the cashier.

"Find everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah." I said. She grabbed the shirt and scanned it. It didn't work. She tried it again. Nothing.

"I'll try looking up the code." It didn't work. My friend watches from afar without a word. I'm mortified. It was almost mine. Almost.

The next day, I went back and hid the shirt. When it failed to scan again, I'm convinced the shirt doesn't want me. Regardless, I hid it. I brought it to the men's section and hoped no one would buy it. I knew she wanted it. I also knew I had seen it first.

My friend loved to shop around so I wasn't shocked when I saw her in my favorite store. She was nowhere near where I hid the shirt so it didn't matter. She wouldn't find it, not this time. I walked away. The rest of time I'm in the mall, I wonder about my shirt but I trust her. She's my friend. She wouldn't buy it if I wanted it.

The next week, I finally have my last pay check and enough money to buy the shirt. I rushed to the store, cash in hand. I had waited for so long. I could finally bring it home. Finally. I ran to the rack where I hid it. Nothing. I looked through a few more times. This can't be happening. I searched through the shirts again. I rushed to the cashier.

"Did you recently sell a white sheer shirt with blue sequins on the collar?" the cashier looked at me like I was insane but they never had shirts like this. She should have remembered.

"We must have if it's not there." she shrugged. I nodded and left. It must have been a misunderstanding. I grabbed my phone and looked for stores around here that had one just like it, however I was out of luck, and it was one of a kind.

I did eventually find the shirt where I least expected: on my friend's floor. She had gone downstairs when her mom called her. I had a feeling that I should check the closet. It wasn't there. Then something stabbed my foot as I was going to sit down. I picked it up and gasped.

"You bought it?" I said as she returned to her room. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"Yeah so?"

"I told you I was going to buy it." She shrugged as I talked and went on to grab the shirt out of my hand. No apology.

"But it didn't work." She was right. There was nothing I could do.

"Is scanned for you?" She simply nodded. I left.

For a couple of months, she wore the shirt proudly. She loved it and it looked good on her. She especially flaunted it around on Valentine's day. However, one day the seams began to wear and sequins stopped shining. She didn't notice until it was too late. The sheer shirt had turned into a pile of thread and sequins. It didn't belong to anyone then.