Page 146 of Veiled

Matt shoots me a glare, I’m sure, because I forgot to lock it after I got back, as Sasha walks in.

“It sounded like the sibling fight was over. Everything okay now, or should I come back?”

“You’re good,” Matt says, trying his best to put on a smile. “I’m going to head to the gym, but you girls have fun today picking out pretty dresses…or whatever I’m supposed to say.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, we will! Shoes too!” Sasha says, pulling me out the door. “I ran into Emily when I was leaving the coffee stand. She’s meeting us at my car.”

Slowly driving down Main Street in Ravenwood, I can’t help but get excited about all of the cute boutique shops we’ll be going in and out of today as I see the adorable window displays.

I don’t even remember the last time I went shopping for fun. When I was young, my dad and I only went shopping when I needed new clothes for an event or if I had outgrown most of what was in my closet. Then, when I got older, it was the same, but with the added stress of knowing how little I could afford to spend so that I still had enough money to cover the bills.

“I thought we were eating after shopping?” I ask Sasha as we pull into a cute little café.

“We are! But we’re having mimosas before we shop!”

“You don’t have to convince me!” I say, climbing out of the backseat.

We decide to split a bottle with a flight of juice choices that leaves me wishing I could text Tara to tell her her mimosa bar was better, but I can’t, so I settle for the next best thing.

“Selfie!” I call out, and Emily and Sasha quickly squeeze together behind me, drinks in hand, as I snap the picture to send to Matt with a “Still alive,” text.

Then I open my conversation to Aiden and send it to him too, knowing he’ll get it when he turns his phone on after his mission is done.

Half an hour later, our bill is paid, and we are walking down Main Street, arms linked and ready to shop.

The first shop we go into gives all the proof you could ask for that while the three of us are friends, we all have very different tastes in dresses.

Sasha has practically run to the flowy, glittery section in every shop, Emily to the tight tube-top dresses with ruching, and me to the flirty but slightly more formal. I would say it’s just old habits die hard, but I actually love the way I feel in an elegant dress.

Sasha found her dress in the second store we walked into. Technically, before we even walked in, since she saw it on the window mannequin, she asked the saleswoman to grab it in her size, and had already decided to buy it before she even walked out to show us.

She then found shoes, jewelry, and makeup that she “just had to have” in the stores that followed.

Everything about this third boutique screams it was made for taking photos in: Mirrors with fantastic lighting are set between the racks and racks of dresses that line the room, and uniquely shaped white couches face the center of the room. Dressing rooms with glittering baby pink curtains sit atop a stage-like platform in the middle, and sparkling jewelry is showcased in glass cases around it like they are the crown jewels.

“Hello, ladies, would you care for some champagne while you look around?” The snooty sales associate asks after she’s given us all a once-over.

I can’t tell if it’s Emily’s unmistakably designer handbag or the fact that Sasha’s arms are already loaded down with shopping bags that earns us her sudden politeness, but I know with absolute certainty it isn’t me lingering near the sale rack. Still, I smile sweetly, pretending I don’t notice the shift in her tone as she decides—apparently—that we’re worth her effort.

“Ooo yes, please!” Emily says as she begins pulling dresses to try on.

The sale rack is everything I expected, colors of dresses that should never have been made in the first place, and a few size double zeros.

While I wait for Emily to start her fashion shows, I casually browse the regular racks, admiring the beautiful cuts and fabrics, and then almost have a heart attack when I see the prices.

It’s not that I couldn’t afford to buy one since I’m earning a stipend and I almost never spend money, but spending so much money on a dress I won’t have many opportunities to wear over the next ten years feels like a waste.

“Lee,” Sasha sings from across the store to get my attention, and I immediately eat every thought I just had. In her hands is the most perfect dress that I just have to try on.

Emily fills her dressing rooms up fast, while I put the one dress in my dressing room before joining Sasha on the couch to sip our bubbly and watch Emily work the runway.

Her first option barely makes it a few steps out of the dressing room before we are sending her to change before she gets charged with public indecency.

The second is thankfully a little longer, so we’re spared from seeing her goods from the couch again. It’s a deep purple number that looks great on her, but would be better for a night out than a graduation ceremony.

Emily steps out in her third dress, an olive-green strapless number with layered fabric giving the appearance of ruching without the bunching. It’s cut mid-thigh at its high point, but with an asymmetrical cut, the other side ends above her knee. Sasha and I both gasp.

“What do we think?”