“Yeah,” I say, hugging her back. “But don’t make me wear anything I don’t feel comfortable in.”
“I promise.”
“What about Zara? Aren’t you going to help her?”
“Zara is a fashion beast,” Yana says with a laugh. “If I try to tame her, she’ll just look… wrong. She’s already perfect in her own chaos.”
I laugh. “That’s the best description I’ve ever heard anyone give.”
“Now, let’s go thrifting!” Yana grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door, practically skipping.
As we pass the living room, Luca leans against the wall, one leg propped up casually, scrolling on his phone.
I catch his eye, and for a split second, he smiles.
“Hey Luca, how’s packing going?” Yana asks cheerfully, totally oblivious to my inner meltdown.
“Well enough. I don’t need your help,” he replies, eyes never leaving the screen.
We’re all going to different tournaments this time — he and Matt on the boys’ tourney, and Yana, Zara, and I are on the girls’. It feels… weird. For the first time in a while, I won’t have him around constantly. And honestly, part of me is relieved.
“I’m taking Tills on a thrifting spree. She needs some new items. Want to come?” Yana asks.
I know she’s only teasing, because we both know Luca would rather die.
“To be stuck in a dressing room trying on identical shirts? I’ll pass.”
“Your loss. Come on, Tilly-bean, this will be so fun!” Yana practically drags me out the door.
***
Goodwill is absolute chaos. But a fun, messy kind of chaos.
Three hours later, we have barely cleaned out the belt and skirt sections.
“How long are we planning to stay here?” I ask, slightly out of breath.
I am obsessed with everything in our cart, which is a relief. I feel like we are going to Coachella with all the crazy pieces, but New York Fashion Week sounds kinda appropriate for crazy outfits, maybe slightly more fancy than Coachella.
“I don’t know. We don’t have to leave the apartment before two a.m., so let’s go back at six?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“After shopping, I’m thinking coffee and some food?”
“Omg, I found this adorable restaurant last week and still need to check it out.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She pushes the cart to the top section.
I hold up a black off-shoulder jersey with a random number.
“I love this!”
I can see the wheels turning in her head, probably already envisioning the outfit.
“Oh yeah, we are getting this.”
I laugh. “Without you, my outfits would look like… that mannequin over there.” I gesture at a white tub top with light jeans.
