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"I know how to drive. I choose not to."
"Why not?" He meets me at the door.
There's this tightness in my chest. "I shared a car with Rosie. She used it more, so, when she died, I brought it back here. I can get to work and school fine on foot."
"And it makes you think about her?"
"Yeah."
"That's why your parents put her stuff away." His eyes bore into mine. "It hurt them having it around."
"I know that." I hug my arms to my chest. "But that doesn't make me feel better, admitting I'm a hypocrite."
He leads me to the car.
I settle into the passenger seat. "I want to feel good for a while." I take a deep breath. "Can we not fight or talk about my sister?"
He nods and starts the car.
* * *
The mall isn't any more crowded than normal. It's expensive enough that the usual crowd ignores bargains.
After an hour of window shopping, another round of caffeine, and lunch at the food court, I feel a little better.
Miles insists we do more window shopping. He holds my hand, guiding me through the outdoor mall. It's a beautiful day. The sky is bright blue. The sun is shining high. There are barely any clouds.
I move a little closer to Miles. We aren't saying much but we aren't fighting either.
That's something.
I stop at an independent boutique. It was one of Rosie's favorite stores.
The mannequin is wearing a hot pink dress. It looks just like a dress Rosie used to wear. It's just long enough for work or school, just tight enough for clubs or dates. The neckline is wider, the waist is lower. Otherwise, it's a dead ringer for her favorite dress.
The rack of dresses is in the back of the store. It's in another color, black, something she never wore.
Miles wraps his arms around me. He pulls me into his chest and brings his mouth to my ear. "You're thinking something?"
"Just shopping."
He sucks on my earlobe. "You're not that good at hiding your feelings."
I step forward, break
ing his hold. "Nothing important. Just thinking that if my sister was here, she would've made me buy that dress." I nod to the hot pink dress.
"It would look good on you."
"No. I can't wear bright colors."
"Why not?" He moves closer, wrapping his arms around me again.
I lean into him. "I'll stand out."
Miles laughs. "You stand out now. You're gorgeous."
My cheeks flush. "That's sweet of you to say, but it's not true. I'm too tall, too skinny, too flat-chested."
