Damage

Chapter 32

I've never seen clothes like this in real life. Only on the cover of magazines in the hair salon my tía works at.

And now, they're right in front of me.

I have to sit down on the edge of the bed to process everything. I was just planning on changing back into my soaking wet clothes and finding a way to walk back home.

But when I look around, thinking of just sticking with my original plan, I realize that it's not even an option anymore. My clothes are nowhere to be found, probably being washed. My only option now is what's in front of me.

It's simple, probably chosen by a personal stylist, meant to be warm enough for the weather, likely to fit me even though they don't know my exact size. Dust rose shift dress. Stockings. Burgundy scarf. The most beautiful, white, fur car coat. Most definitely expensive. Obviously so far out of my price range it makes my head spin.

But it's not the clothes or even the gesture that Luke is making, buying clothes for me, that is the most puzzling. Resting beside the clothes is a small, white note with hurriedly written blue ink on top. A half-cursive, half-print scribble of dashes. Assertively crossed 't's and slanted 'L's.

Had a morning meeting at 7 at the Plaza.

Does lunch at 1 sound ok?

The driver can pick you up.

-L.

***

"We have a lot to talk about, missy," Emily says like she rehearsed it, smiling that wry smile, when I walk into the coffee shop we love and usually go to off campus. Her blonde hair falls in curls and she's radiant, far from the broken girl I've been seeing the past few days in Chinese restaurants and on the subway in the middle of the night.

Today she's warm like the sun on white sheets. Magic, mischievous eyes, jeans and a light blue sweater. I almost want to forget about last night.

She does a double take and laughs a little. "Woah, wait a second, what is up with your clothes today? You look like you just stepped out of a magazine!"

As soon as she says this, I feel clammy, like I want to wrap a dark blanket around my body and hide. These clothes are gorgeous, she's right, but I feel so so uncomfortable, like I'm wearing a Halloween costume in the middle of May.

"I was kidding before, sort of, but now that you're walking into the middle of a coffee shop wearing designer clothes, we really do have a lot talk about." She laughs.

Regardless of what's happened, Emily is my closest friend here, but I still know that I can't tell her about Luke. So I put on a smile and shrug, making something up about finding them at a thrift shop for dirt cheap.

"Oh, well anyway, so...you and Michael..."

"What about me and Michael?" I ask, nervously, not sure if she's heard about the blowup yet.

She grins mischievously. "You know." She then starts humming the intro to Marvin Gaye's 'Let's Get it On'" and my face heats up.

"No, that definitely did not happen."

"Seriously? Come on, it was perfect, like the stars were, I don't know, fucking...aligning for that to happen." She sighs, and then goes up to the counter to get the pot of tea we're sharing.

"So, what G-rated activities did you two do the whole night, then? Sleep? Braid each other's hair?"

"I, uhm, actually...I didn't spend the night at Michael's," I say tentatively.