THE MALL
1798 Words
My phone chimed, and I jumped slightly, my heart betraying the hope that maybe it was Xavier. A little voice at the back of my head squealed with excitement, “It must be him!”
I rushed to the dressing table, expecting to see his name flash across the screen. Instead, it was a number I didn’t recognize. I groaned in disappointment and sank into the small chair, feeling a strange mix of relief and annoyance.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, her voice casual but tinged with curiosity. She didn’t sound overly concerned, and that was exactly why I loved her blunt honesty.
I kept quiet, opening the text, fingers trembling slightly.
{T’sup? Who is this?}
Almost immediately, the reply came:
{Zack. I’ll be at the mall around 08:00pm. I’m tired of walking around with the drawing you snatched away from me.}
My cheeks turned warm, pink creeping up like a sunrise. So, he had kept his word. That meant I had to go with him to the ceremony. My heart thumped in anticipation, and suddenly the earlier disappointment vanished.
I locked the phone and put it back on the dresser, only to find Sam staring at me with that devilish grin, her hand propping up her chin.
“Look who’s blushing,” she teased, tilting her head.
“Zack is here,” I announced, trying to play it cool. Her face lit up as if I had just announced some great mystery.
“The guy friend,” I explained, watching her eyes widen.
“Whoa!” she exclaimed. “Let me meet him.”
“Wait, what?”
“You heard me. I want to see him,” she said, walking toward my closet muttering things I didn’t catch.
I quickly texted Zack:
{I was about to go shopping with a friend. The mall sounds perfect.}
At least he would know I wasn’t going alone.
“So, what are you going to wear?” Sam asked, following me to the closet.
“Anything that will fit. I need to tell home that I’m sleeping over today,” I said, moving toward the window to make the call.
I scanned my closet pitifully, a sinking feeling in my chest. Nothing seemed perfect for a random shopping trip that might turn into a… well, whatever this was with Zack.
Sam returned with a triumphant smile.
“I’d love to pick something for you,” she said, pushing me aside and starting her excavation.
Clothes flew onto me, and she forced me to try them, rejecting my selections with blunt honesty: “Too big—you look like Mamy in that. Too short, exposes too much. Too tight, too baggy.” She was relentless, and eventually collapsed in exhaustion.
“You really have nothing to wear,” she admitted.
“Let’s go shopping,” she suggested after a moment of silence.
“What if we run into him?” I whispered, suddenly imagining the horror of bumping into Zack looking like a mess.
“Ugh! So, what are we going to do?” She flopped dramatically onto the bed.
We were silent for a few moments before she got up.
“When are you meeting?”
“08:00pm,” I replied.
“What time is it now?”
We both checked the clock above my dresser.
“06:45pm,” we shouted simultaneously, horrified.
“You have almost an hour to look perfect. Let’s go,” Sam said, already grabbing her card and both of our phones.
We threw on our coats and rushed out to the mall. The winter air hit me, sharp and refreshing, but it did nothing to calm my nervous energy.
A man cleared his throat right beside my heart, and I nearly jumped. Anyone could tell it was deliberate. I turned, ready to scold whoever dared to scare me, and froze. He was tall, with broad shoulders, black hair, and eyes dark enough to swallow me whole. And that grin—oh, that grin made my heart skip.
“Excuse me,” he said smoothly, glancing between Sam and me. “You must be Ms. Eve?”
Sam stared at him, and I felt my face betray me—I was wearing baggy clothes, my hair was slightly messy, and I could feel every awkward inch of myself. I faked a cough, pretending to be uninterested.
“She must be the friend you mentioned,” he said, his grin widening. “Call me Zack.”
Sam extended her hand cautiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m Sam,” she said.
“Nice to meet you, Sam,” he replied politely.
“Great. I’ll see you then,” she said, avoiding my eyes completely.
“Sam?” I called, feeling slightly betrayed. Turning back to Zack, I noticed his grin hadn’t faded.
“You look even more beautiful than you did in Guentemalla,” he said casually.
My cheeks turned pink instantly, though my mind screamed, You’re in baggy clothes! Why are you blushing? “Aren’t people supposed to look good at home?” I muttered, scanning the stores to avoid his gaze.
He chuckled, which confused me. “What?” I asked sharply.
“Truth or dare?” he asked suddenly, leaning closer, his eyes locking with mine.
“That’s only played by best friends where I come from,” I protested.
“Then we are best friends. Truth or dare.” His intensity made me step back slightly.
“Truth,” I said quickly, unsure of how to resist.
He leaned in, his nose nearly touching mine. “Do I make you blush?”
“What?” I stumbled backward, flustered. “Dare. Change of mind. Dare.”
He chuckled, devilishly tapping one foot. “Kiss me.”
My eyes went wide, and I turned to walk away, but he ran, grabbing my hand and laughing. Before I could protest, he held me tightly beside him.
“Help me buy a suit,” he said, already dragging me into one of the suit stores. Rich people and their suits always looked unreal, like kings in their own little world.
“You’re rich. You have plenty of suits,” I muttered.
“Not for the event.” His eyes scanned the coats. “I’ll buy any you choose.”
“What?” I furrowed my brow. “You must be insane.”
“I’m serious,” he said.
“Let me get this straight,” I said, walking closer. “I know everything about the event, except fashion. Especially men’s fashion.”
He nodded knowingly. “Then I’ll train you for free,” he added.
I exhaled, and just then, a salesman approached. “Good evening. How can I help you today?” she asked politely.
An idea struck me. “Yes, please,” I said, walking away from him slowly. “Can you help me pick a suit for this guy?”
“Say no more, Miss,” she replied, diving into the racks. She pulled out several, and my eyes widened at the differences—fading lines, plain cuts, colors I’d never even imagined for men.
Finally, she emerged with a creamy, plain suit. I checked the price and nearly choked.
“I’m so sorry,” the lady apologized, and I coughed awkwardly. Zack came over, concern etched on his handsome face. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, handing him the suit.
He checked the size label, then handed it back. “It’s not my size.”
“Let me…” the lady began.
“No,” he interrupted gently. “I’ll come back next time.” He smiled, taking my hand and leading me out.
“Let’s grab some food. I might starve to death,” he said.
“All of a sudden?” I asked, surprised as we stepped outside.
Luckily, a luxurious restaurant was right there. Memories of dining here with Xavier flickered in my mind. I shook them off and followed Zack in.
“Welcome to Golden Fork,” a waiter said, placing two menus. I didn’t need it; I knew the place well.
“Iced chicken avocado with salad and a chilled glass of beer,” he ordered casually.
“Caesar salad with light dressing and squeezed orange juice,” I said, echoing Xavier’s favorite order.
We ate, the atmosphere warm, the food delicious, and yet every bite reminded me painfully of Xavier. But Zack’s presence, his laughter, and the mischievous sparkle in his eyes made it impossible to dwell on the past for long.
“So, when’s the ceremony?” I asked.
“Friday,” he said casually.
My heart skipped. Monday. That left me almost no time to prepare. “I have nothing to wear!” I whispered, panic creeping in.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confusion written all over my face.
He grinned, a flash of the same playful arrogance I’d noticed in Guentemalla. “You’ll see.”
We walked out, and he suddenly tightened his grip on my arm. “There’s a place I want you to see,” he said, excitement evident.
“Champagne?” I asked, teasing lightly.
He looked at the sky and nodded. “I find myself too comfortable with you. Which is insane.”
“Tell me that’s Leonardo da Vinci speaking,” I joked, crossing my arms.
“No,” he said seriously. “Leonardo di Ser Piero da Vinci.”
“That’s it,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Don’t follow me. This is Xenonia; I might slap you.”
My day had been perfect, and I refused to let his arrogance ruin it. I walked away, grateful he didn’t follow.
Passing the bridge, a royal black car reminded me of Xavier, opening doors, driving me home, always so considerate. Tears threatened to spill, and I fought them. I wasn’t ready to think about Xavier yet. My phone slipped into my hand, and I dialed his number.
No answer. Why would there be? Tears ran freely now as images of him with that other lady clouded my mind.
A man sat beside me suddenly, forcing me to stop crying.
“Who cries alone in the streets?” His voice was teasing but gentle.
“I told you not to follow me,” I muttered.
“I thought you needed a shoulder,” he said, a mix of warmth and coldness that made my heart ache.
I stood to leave, but a bus arrived just in time.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 18:00. You look ugly when you cry,” he added with a smirk. I just buried my face in my hands and boarded the bus.
- Writer
