Chapter 23 - What’s a Sears?

Taylor

“Oh my God, do you see that red skirt?” Brooke exclaimed, pointing to some weird trendy store in the mall. It was Wednesday, and since I no longer had detention to cope with any longer, I had some time to kill before I went to my house to work on finding a cure with Abby.

Yesterday, when we’d gone to the mall with the others, we’d hardly had any time to actually peruse the stores. Uma was over-concerned with not touching any of the mall fixtures, Sandra was making fun of what people were wearing with Brigitte, and Tiffany was trying not to cry the entire time. Needless to say, Brooke and I never really got a chance to actually enjoy the mall.

I looked over at the red frilly miniskirt she was referring to. “It’s hot. You should get it.” We walked inside the entrance to the store and Brooke picked out her size. She rested it against her and gave me an unsatisfied look.

“I don’t know, Abby,” she began, biting her bottom lip. She looked so incredibly sexy doing that. “It looks really short. I wouldn’t want to sit down and have my crotch sticking out.”

I had to laugh at that, though I didn’t see anything wrong with it.

“Try it on,” I insisted, devilishly. “You never know what it looks like till it’s on.” Brooke relented and we headed off to the dressing room. I sat down and Brooke just looked at me oddly. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to try on anything?”

I shook my head. “This isn’t really my kind of place. I’m sure I’ll find something at Gap.”

She stuck out her lower lip like a child. “Oh, you’re no fun! Come on, I hate trying stuff on alone.”

“Brooke…”

She turned and grabbed a nearby dress. She examined it carefully, finally deeming it worthy, and shoved it at me. “Here, now you can try this on.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Brooke, it has sequins.”

“Yes, yes it does.”

“I don’t do sequins.”

Brooke rolled her eyes and hung the dress back on the rack. “Fine, be like that then, you great big poop. I’ll try this on by myself.” I let out a grateful sigh. Wearing a skirt everyday was bad enough, I don’t want to get stuck in dresses too.

Oh, and for those who are concerned, fear not. Today I remembered to wear some awesome cotton underwear.

While I was waiting for Brooke to try on the skirt, I reflected on yesterday’s fun filled mall trip. It had been highly entertaining at least, not to mention mildly educational.

We strolled into Victoria’s Secret, my heart all a flutter. I’d never actually been in one of these amazing stores of wild sexual fantasy. Ike, of course, had been in here a couple of times with girlfriends but he never mentioned how…colorful it was.

“What kind of underwear are you looking for?” Brooke asked, sticking by my side. I didn’t blame her one bit. The rest of the group was a little scary.

“Kind? There are different kinds?” Oh hell.

Brooke smiled and I continued to marvel at the lovely lingerie on display. I was overwhelmed with visions of silk, satin, and lace. My overactive imagination was having a field day. The dominatrix ensemble on display was a little frightening, but for the most part, I thoroughly enjoyed this store.

“There’s really all kinds here to choose from,” Brooke began, picking up a lavender lacy thong. I cringed, my butt screaming in protest. “There are thongs, bikini-cut panties, granny panties, boy shorts...”

My eyes lit up. “Boy shorts?” I could use a pair of boxers.

“Oh yeah, I see some over there,” Brooke exclaimed, pointing to a far corner of the store. I can’t even begin to explain how much I would appreciate a pair of actual boy’s clothing. I would have to write a letter of supreme gratitude to the inventor of such a thing.

Brooke stopped at a table and began shifting through different items. “What size are you?”

I just kind of stared at her for a minute. “Um, well, I don’t think I’m a five.”

Brooke grinned. “Neither am I really. I just can wear thongs smaller because I have a thin waist. My fat ass is a little bigger so I usually wear a six in normal underwear.” She eyed me carefully. “Are you sure you’re not a five? You’re really thin.”

I smiled dumbly. “I like your butt.”

Oh, fuck me.

“What I meant is that it’s not fat or anything, it’s perfect for an ass…”

Fuck me hard.

Brooke burst out laughing. “Well, I like your butt too. But I think you probably are a five. At least try the five on.” She held up a pair of underwear. “I think the polka dots are cute. What do you think?”

“They’re okay,” I admitted, not really caring. “Where are the boy shorts though?”

She gave me an odd look. “Um, right here. I’m holding a pair.”

My face flushed. “Oh, right, sorry. It’s hard to believe that they’re actually unisex underwear because they’re so small…”

“WHAT?” Brooke began cackling obnoxiously in the middle of Victoria’s Secret. Customers gawked at us rudely as Brooke almost sank to the floor. I quickly caught her as she guffawed loudly in my ear. Uma and the others looked over at us, utterly perplexed. I just sort of smiled reassuringly. Finally she regained control over herself and could stand on her own again.

“Jesus, Brooke, what was that?” I exclaimed, my ears a little hot from all the attention we’d received.

Brooke chuckled softly. “You think boy shorts are unisex.”

“Well, they are BOY shorts,” I muttered, in my own feeble defense. “Why the hell wouldn’t they be for boys too?”

“I’ll tell you why,” she insisted, holding up a pair directly in front of my face. “Where would boys put it?”

“Put it? Oh, right, the penis. Duh.” I burst out laughing. I was so stupid sometimes that I frightened myself. At least Abby wasn’t here to mock me for all eternity.

I picked out a blue pair of the boy shorts and then we went in line to pay for them. Meanwhile, Uma, Tiffany, Sandra, and Brigitte were standing in the line adjacent to us. I overheard them arguing about the price of the underwear.

“Uma, why would the price be wrong?” Tiffany hollered, her eyes puffy from crying earlier.

Uma sighed. “Because, no one in their right mind would sell a thong for $12.95.” When it was their turn in line, Uma marched right up to the counter with Tiffany.

”Can I help you?” Paula, the saleslady, asked politely. If the poor woman only knew what she was in for.

“Actually, yes,” Uma stated, standing slightly in front of Tiffany. “I just wanted to let you know that many of your thongs are incorrectly priced.”

Paula raised an eyebrow. “Incorrectly priced? How so?”

Uma snatched the pink thong out of Tiffany’s hands. She pointed to the price tag with a maroon-colored acrylic nail. “Do you see what you are selling this for? It says $12.95.”

The woman sighed. “We have sale thongs in a bin in the front if you are looking for something a bit more affordable. This one here is a part of our new fall line.”

Uma gasped as Tiffany covered her ears with her hands. “Your new line? This is an outrage! How dare you charge $12.95? It must be a misprint.”

Paula narrowed her eyes as she looked up at Uma. “Well, Miss, if the prices here are not to your liking, there is a Sears at the opposite end of the mall.”

I only wished I had popcorn to enjoy while watching this fray.

Uma’s jaw dropped at the woman’s audacity. “Do I seriously look like I would shop at Sears?”

“What’s a Sears?” Brigitte asked, turning to Sandra. Sandra simply shrugged in response. Either she was as clueless as her friend or she wasn’t going to admit it.

“My problem is that they’re too cheap!” Uma exclaimed, getting frustrated. “Why in heaven’s name would I think they were too expensive? How do you people make a decent profit off of selling underwear for $12.95?”

Tiffany smiled and moved so that she was next to the nostril-flaring Uma. “Perhaps if you move the decimal point over one it would be a little more reasonable…”

Well, props to Tiffany for knowing what a decimal point is.

“Are you girls for real?” The saleslady exclaimed, loudly. I could tell she was fighting the urge to laugh, much like Brooke and I. The other customers, who had been aggravated because of waiting, were now turning to each other in disbelief.

“Do you think you could boost the price a bit?” Tiffany asked, in a small voice. “I sort of have a reputation to uphold.”

Paula turned to a fellow associate, completely perplexed.

Uma narrowed her eyes at the woman. “You know, I take offence to that Sears comment. I would like to talk to your manager.”

“Good grief,” Brooke muttered, rolling her eyes. “Can you guys just pay for the underwear and let us leave?”

“But the price is outlandish!” Tiffany whined, as she allowed the woman to ring up her purchase. She signed for her credit card and the woman quickly handed her a pink bag. She held her head low as Sandra held her hand while they exited the store. Uma shot the poor woman a dirty look before sauntering out of the store. Brooke and I exchanged amused looks as I paid for my boy shorts that weren’t really for boys at all.

“What do you think?” Brooke asked, snapping me out of my daydream. She spun around slowly. Examining herself in the mirror, she made a face. “I think it makes my thighs look big. I don’t like it.”

My eyes continued to bug out my head like Jim Carrey’s in The Mask. How in God’s name could she see fat thighs when all I saw was the sexiest girl in the entire world? How could she not look in the mirror everyday and kiss her reflection? Women, by nature, are the most oblivious creatures.

“Buy it.”

Brooke gave me a surprised look. “I don’t know, Ab. I think it’s a little tight.”

“On behalf of boys everywhere, I’m going to have to insist that you buy that skirt,” I rambled, trying not to whistle my appreciation. I stood up and looked at her in the full size mirror. “Yeah, I definitely can’t let you walk out of this store without that skirt.”

***

Brooke (who’d finally relented and bought the skirt) and I quickly made our way to the food court. It had actually been our original destination when we’d first arrived at the mall, but girls are always known for clothes-induced distractions.

I ordered three tacos and two orders of nachos from Taco Bell while Brooke got herself some Arby’s. We found a relatively clean table and began to munch down on our healthy dinner. I polished off one taco and let out an obnoxious belch. Brooke burst out laughing and a chunk of curly fry flew out of her mouth and into my hair.

“Oops!” She exclaimed, leaning across the table and pulling the masticated food out of my hair. It gave me an excellent opportunity to look down her blouse. She sat back and shoved another fry into her mouth. “We are so gross that we deserve to be friends.” She smiled at me. “Best friends.”

I beamed. I was Brooke’s self-proclaimed best friend!

I winked at her. “The bestest of best friends.”

She grinned and continued shoving her face with greasy goodness. I watched her contentedly, knowing that she had to be the hottest girl in the entire world, especially when she ate. And she ate…and ate…and ate.

“Are you sure you’re not really a guy trapped inside a girl’s body?” I teased, watching her chug her chocolate milkshake.

She swallowed and smiled. “Nah, I’m just starving. I don’t really eat much at home.”

“How come?” I asked, curiously. Whenever my mom made food at home it was lucky to last one meal. Usually she had to make a ridiculous amount of food since my brothers, my Dad, Jessica, and myself were probably the most bottomless pits in the world. I’m surprised we can live off the millions my brothers and I earned with our excessive appetites.

She sighed and pushed her food around. “You don’t want to hear about my stupid family divorce problems.”

“Yes, I do,” I insisted. “Didn’t we just state that we’re best friends? That’s what best friends do. They confide in each other. They listen.”

Brooke smiled warmly. “Okay, where should I begin?”

“Why did your parents divorce?”

She looked down at her food. “Well, my Dad’s a fifty-year-old billionaire. He went through his chauvinistic mid-life crisis and decided that he no longer loved my forty-year-old mother. So, he traded her in for twenty-year-old model named Madison.” She started laughing stiffly. “My step-mom can’t even drink yet!”

My heart truly sank for her. “That’s awful. Is she easy to get along with, at least?”

Brooke snorted and sat back against the metal seat. “Yeah, if you want to talk about hair and nails. She thinks that she’s really my mother now, too! She tells me what to do and tries to give me advice about life! She tells me how to wear my hair and make up and will not allow anything she deems unhealthy into the house. When Anita, the maid, goes grocery shopping, she isn’t even allowed to buy potato chips for me. My Dad just lets her do whatever the fuck she wants. And the worst thing is that she just LOVES to flaunt it in front of my face how much she fucks my Dad. It’s the most disgusting thing in the world. He might as well be sleeping with Tiffany or Sandra.”

“Wow, Brooke,” I murmured, putting my hand on hers. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was so bad.”

She looked at my hand on hers and smiled. “Please. The last thing I need or deserve is sympathy. I have the kind of life most people would kill for. And it’s not always that bad. I talk to Humphrey or Anita whenever I need anything. I’m really lucky to have them.”

“Well, maybe you should talk to your father about how you feel,” I suggested, softly. I didn’t want to push, but I had to try to give her some plausible advice.

She shrugged and slurped her soda. “I don’t know. He’d probably get upset that I’m “disrespecting” her or whatever.”

“But if you don’t talk to him nothing will get resolved,” I insisted. “He’ll probably be glad that you shared your feelings.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll get around to it one of these days,” Brooke murmured, sitting back in her seat. She looked over at my nachos and grinned. “Are you going to eat all those?”

***

“Oh, it’s you.”

I sighed heavily as the large wooden door rudely slammed in my face. I should have known that this wouldn’t have been easy. I don’t think anything about Abby Deluca is easy.

The door reopened a second later and Zac gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry, dude, come on in.”

I entered my house and took a deep breath. My house always tended to smell a little bit like vanilla. My mom always uses this awful vanilla room spray that I think can also be used for pest control. It wasn’t intolerable a while after being sprayed, but at first it was downright suffocating. It was kind of like Abby most of the time. A little goes a very long way…

I had to stop insulting her, mentally or verbally, if I ever wanted to maintain peace.

“Taylor?” I called out, finding Abby nowhere in sight. I was about to go up the stairs when I felt Zac’s hand on my shoulder. I turned to him with an inquisitive look on my face.

“Be easy on her, okay?” Zac murmured, looking up the stairs. “She’s been having a tough time these past couple of days.”

I gave him an odd look, but then nodded. I had a lot that I needed to get off my chest. I walked up the stairs and knocked softly on my bedroom door. I heard no response and decided to let myself in. Abby was on my bed typing on my laptop computer, a miserable expression on her face. I waited for her to acknowledge my presence.

I waited for a couple of minutes, shifting from side to side uncomfortably, as she continued to happily ignore me.

“What?” She muttered, not even looking up from the laptop resting on her legs. “You need a fucking invitation to sit in your own room?”

I closed my eyes for a moment. “Can I just talk to you for a few minutes?”

She glared at me. “Actually, I’m sort of busy trying to find a way to get out of your disgusting body.”

“Abby, please!” I exclaimed, desperately. I cleared my throat and willed myself to calm down. “Look, I know you’re mad at me.” She grunted, clicking away on the computer. “And I deserve it completely. I’ve been a selfish asshole lately and I’m so sorry.” Abby finally looked up from her computer and I took the liberty of sitting down on my bed on the opposite end of her. “I’m so sorry for ignoring you and ditching you and making you feel as though you are not important to me. You are, Abby.”

She looked away. “Taylor...”

“Please, let me finish,” I insisted, cutting her off. “I’ve been using you as a way to improve things for myself. And it’s wrong of me to take you for granted. Whether I like it or not,” I teased, “you’re one of my best friends. You know me like no other person, Abby. I-I just wanted to apologize for being an ass and I hope you can forgive me. Your friendship is important to me.”

Abby just stared at me for a moment. “I don’t know what to say. That was so... so unexpected and completely unlike you…” Her cheeks flushed slightly as she smiled shyly.

I rolled my eyes and gently hit her in the arm. “Shut up. Can I ask you a serious question?”

Abby started clicking on the laptop again. “I guess.”

There was no easy way to ask this so I was just going to let it out. “Do you have feelings for me? Is that why you get mad when I mention Brooke?”

Abby stopped clicking and cleared her throat. She looked at me and smiled. “N-no.”

“No?” I asked, scratching my head. If she didn’t like me as more than just a friend, my entire theory of why things were so rough between us would fly completely out the window. It’s really the only answer that was somewhat reasonable. “Are you sure?”

She looked back down at the laptop quickly. “Jesus, Taylor, you have to be the most egotistical person in the entire universe! Of course I’m sure that I don’t like you. Why would I like you? You’re about as masculine as French Stewart. And I don’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything, but I just don’t find you the least bit attractive whatsoever. It boggles my mind that you actually had fans.” She immediately resumed typing.

I let out a huge sigh of relief. If Abby had actually had feelings toward me things would have gotten so much more complicated. Now I can fully concentrate on becoming a guy once again and legitimately wooing Brooke. I could feel the once unbearable tension dissipate. It was nice to feel untroubled in her presence once again.

“By the way, Brooke invited us to go camping with her this weekend and I would greatly appreciate it if…”

She smacked my mouth with her hand and covered it in efforts to silence me. “Taylor, I know. She already called me. There’s no need for your pathetic begging. I already said I’d go.”

“So, are we cool again?” I asked, grinning from ear to ear. “Are we friends?”

She looked at me and just smiled for a second. There was something behind the smile, but she was too good at hiding her thoughts for me to figure out what she was thinking. She must be still in the process of accepting my apology. I felt a little uneasy as her eyes swept over my face. I hoped I didn’t have a booger or something hanging out of my nose. That would be gross.

“Friends,” she stated, finally. She looked down at the computer but didn’t type.

I grinned from ear to ear. I moved, causing her to nearly bounce off the bed, so that I was sitting next to her and rested my head on her shoulder. I made a face as I looked at the computer. “Okay then, after we research a cure we’re going to discuss why you have a picture of a naked man as my wallpaper...”