A Red Queen Black Friday

Ground Zero

The warm lights of Ashley Furniture Homestore beckon in the throes of the snowstorm.

Through whipping snow that sneaks under my coat, my teeth chatter as I make my way through the parking lot with Shade and Iris. The sky's a bleak grey, and I can barely see anything in front of me. The wind and snow have been going all night, and it's hardly a wonder that Maven and Thomas's flight last night got delayed.

The first snow of the year decided to come before the Barrows even had the chance to buy shovels.

Kilorn, meanwhile, has plans to use all of his savings to buy a riding snowblower.

"Are we sure we want to do this?" I ask, stuffing my hands into my coat pockets.

"Absolutely not." Shade scoffs, knowing as well as I what awaits us inside.

We spent the morning wandering through one of the local malls to buy some Christmas gifts for the family—Shade and I got some coffee cups for Mom, cute pajamas for Gee, and a whole lot of flannel shirts for Dad, Bree, and Tramy. In comparison to what we're putting our friends through, the three of us have enjoyed a slow, peaceful day full of hot chocolate, warm food, and the occasional purchase.

The highlight of my day was sneaking away from my companions to do some shopping of my own at Victoria's Secret, where I bought some clothing that Cal, despite what Bree told me over text, will be drooling over soon enough. I smirk at the thought of the red lingerie that I have carefully concealed inside of the bag that also contains my brothers' flannels.

Iris sighs, bringing me back to the present as the automatic doors swish open to Ashley Furniture Homestore.

Ashley Furniture Homestore, otherwise known as Ground Zero.

A warm, domesticated commotion of furniture and home decor greets me. Walls are erected around the store, leading from one faux room to another, each of a completely different theme. It seems like the kind of suburban, middle-class kind-of-thing that Maven and Evangeline would hate.

Plush cream-colored couches decorated with patterned pillows, wooden end tables, rich-colored rugs, and a plethora of wall art come before my eyes at the store's entrance. Not far off awaits a dining room with China cabinets, chandeliers, and fake plants, and little further rests a pair of bedrooms. One wears checkered wallpaper, and the other displays regal pastel pink paint.

As we walk a little further in, I nearly miss another display living room tucked into the store's corner. Upon its couch and chairs lounge Elane, Kilorn, and Cameron.

"Turn back while you can," Cameron hisses, pulling at her own hair.

I told Maven over the phone last night that the Holy Trinity would manage without him. Instead, he booked an overnight flight that would ensure he'd get to JFK by dawn.

"Why don't you go make yourself useful, Gisa, and pick out the mattresses?"

Maven's shrill, crazed, and judgemental voice rings out through the store. A nearby employee, apparently having already met him, quite literally flinches. Some of the other patrons of the store smile and cringe to themselves.

I try not to wonder for how many hours this madness has been going on.

<<<>>>

Too deep in to turn around now, I follow Maven Calore's voice around two walls before I find him, my sister, Evangeline, five-store employees, and a dirty-blonde who can only be Thomas surrounding a sectional sofa.

Among piles of furniture, lamps, paintings and mirrors, and more rugs, I find a scene of absolute chaos.

The five workers are shifting on their feet uncomfortably while Evangeline, Gisa, and Maven hold court on the opposite side of the couch.

"Please, Maven," Evangeline hisses. "You live out there with those hippies now. California's snatched away the little taste you had."

Maven, incensed, flares his nostrils. "At least I saved you from buying mass-produced wall art. How far have you fallen, Evangeline Samos?"

Deciding that we'd rather not be seen by the Holy Trinity, Iris, Shade, and I shuffle over to where Thomas sits near the workers. Absorbed in something on his phone, he doesn't notice me until I sit down next to him and cross one leg over the other.

Looking up, Thomas gives me a weary grin. I immediately decide that he's a handsome young man, with his tousled blond hair, lean frame beneath his Stanford sweatshirt and ripped jeans, and bright green eyes that wear a bit of concern for every time he glances towards Maven. He has a soft, kind face that I have to think balances out Maven well. "You must be Mare," he tells me after a moment, extending a hand in greeting.

I shake it. "I am. And you're Thomas, the guy who's going to keep Maven from going insane at Stanford."

"That's the goal," Thomas agrees. "Though I'm more concerned about today than his four years at college, actually."

Thomas proceeds to tell me about how Gisa and Maven managed to agree on a dining table and chairs and a single couch for the smaller of our two living rooms. Decisions on bar stools, bed frames, and bookcases came slower, but they indeed came. Evangeline and Elane, taking the reins on their team's decisions once they realized that Kilorn and Cameron would be of no help, finished shopping for their own list of curtains, rugs, wall art, and home decor hours ago.

Initially, Evangeline had planned to help Maven and Gisa, seeing how close they were to snapping at one another. But once she began  hurling insults at Maven's aesthetic eye, it fell apart. The Holy Trinity, despite planning this for weeks, can't agree on anything. They haven't bought the mattresses, most of the living furniture, or any of the bedroom furniture.

In the midst of Thomas's explanation, Maven turns his sophisticated rage on one of the employees. "Do you know who I am, sir?"

The employee slowly shakes his head, so as not to anger Maven, who's clearly one poorly-made joke away from snapping altogether. I don't know how Maven managed to lure five employees into his grasp, but now that they're here, they're not escaping from him or his interior design tyranny. For all I know, they'll be spending the night upon the chairs and couches, begging and pleading with the younger Calore to decide on a sectional sofa.

"I'm Maven Calore," Maven starts rather arrogantly. "My father could buy this entire corporation if he wanted. He ought to, actually, considering the owner's disgusting taste."

And there Maven goes, insulting the CEO of Ashley Furniture Homestore.

"You all think that you know so much about home design, but you don't," Maven continues. "If you did, you wouldn't be working at a chain furniture store. Now. Let me explain to you the theme of the living room again."

Maven, noticing that I'm here and the smirk that I wear, sends an icy glare in my direction. It melts after a moment.

He grins, forgetting everything that's happened between us. "Hi, Mare."

I return the smile. "Hi, Maven."

"It's my house," I hear Gee snip to Evangeline in an aside.

Evangeline snips right back at her that it's a miracle anybody buys my sister's clothes.

I sigh, settling back into the couch. If I thought it'd be worth it, I'd try to intervene and make three understand that they're on a clock here. The storewide sale doesn't last all year.

Instead, I turn to Thomas. "Let's go look at mattresses."