The Transplant ✔️

13. Retail Therapy

Jolie's POV:

I've finally agreed to surgery, but I was more afraid than I was before I had agreed.

I stared at the copies of paperwork on my kitchen counter, reviewing the part where it states that I hereby agree to the crucial complications that could come from surgery.

I felt an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I flipped the papers over on the table, deciding to not look at them again for fear of upsetting myself.

"Jolie, your friend is here to see you." I heard Mom call from the living room.

I ease myself away from the chair and out of the kitchen.

"Hey, girl." It was Candy, not surpising since she's my only true friend.

"Hey."

"Mom told me about your transplant surgery. She also told me that the donor is Jobe Boston."

"Please tell me you didn't stalk him online." Candy had a habit of knowing everything about everyone, so it wouldn't be a shock if she knew everything about Jobe.

"Of course I did. Who would I be if I didn't?" Candy flopped onto my leather couch, making herself comfortable. She hit the couch so hard, her white headband fell onto her forehead and away from her hair.

"Wow, could you have hit the couch any harder? I thought it was thundering with how hard you fell." I laughed.

"Nope, no thunder, just thunder thighs." She stuck her tongue out.

"How classy." I joked.

I started to take a seat next to her on the couch, when she stopped me.

"Don't get too comfortable. We are going shopping in just a minute." She warned.

"Okay." I could use a new outfit, so why not?

Candy sat up straight, leaning over to place her hand on my forehead.

"Are you sick? Since when do you agree to go shopping with me? I thought it would have been harder than that to get you to go."

"Don't be so shocked. I need a new outfit or two, and maybe some new lip stick." I acknowledged.

"Wait, hold on." Candy's rosy cheeks rose in concern.

"What?" I asked.

"You never want to buy clothes, like, I practically force you to buy stuff. Something's up with you. Who are you trying to impress...a guy?"

"As if, lay off me. If I don't go shopping you catch a fit, and if I do, I get harassed with questions. I can't win with you."

"It is a guy. Who is it? Tell me everything."

There was no guy; I simply wanted to look good for myself, or at least that's what I'm telling myself.

"Nothing to tell. Can we please go shopping?"

"You don't have to tell me twice."

**

The first place in the mall Candy and I went was the food court, definitely a choice the both of us could agree on. Candy went for a deep fried corn dog, skipping out on her usual salad to try the new addition to the food court, while I went for a double-layered pizza. My choices were always between chicken nuggets or pizza, and it just so happened that Italian won my heart for the day.

As we finished getting our food, the two of us met in the middle and took seats in the one available spot in front of the bathroom.

"I can't wait to finish eating so I can help you find an outfit for your new man that you refuse to tell me about."

Here we go again; Candy would never let me live this down. But in reality, there was no one I was trying to impress, or at least, I didn't believe so.

"I'm only getting a few things, nothing too fancy." I let her know.

"Oh, no! I am making you buy a whole new set of makeup, some red pumps, and get you into a new skanky dress. I will not have my bestie looking anything less than sleazy." She took a animalistic bite into her corn dog before setting it back onto her paper plate.

"Can't we compromise? I'll get something a little revealing, but not too much. I don't want my cleavage out in full view." I explained.

"You have nice boobs; I don't see why you're ashamed of them. If I were you, I'd be flaunting them. Oh wait, is it because this guy you like isn't just a guy you want to have sex with? I should have figured." She shook her head.

"You know I'd never be in it for sex."

"Uh huh! So you admit that there is a guy!" Finishing her corn dog, Candy dug through my plate for a bite of pizza.

"Someone's not eating their food." Candy said.

"I'm feeling a little nauseous." I made known.

"Want me to take you home? Or we can go to my house and relax by my pool."

I had gotten so used to be sick with this illness that the only time I actually remember it is when I go to eat.

"No, I'm okay. I'm sure I'll feel better once we walk away from the food." I bit my tongue, careful to keep any unwanted, digested food from coming up.

"Say no more. We can get up and go shopping. I don't need to eat your pizza; I was just being greedy, anyhow." She was being nice, but she didn't have to get up on my account.

"You're being silly, Candy. Eat the rest of my pizza or else I will and then I'm going to get myself sick. You're doing me a favor by sitting here and eating it." I would have preferred to get up and walk away from the smells of food, but I'd never let her know that.

"Are you sure?" She slid my paper plate onto her side, puppy dog eyes set on her round face. I can tell she really wanted my pizza by the looks of her.

"Positive. Trust me, I'm in no rush to go shopping." I said.

"Oh, don't you worry, it's happening."