Not red, not orange, definitely not yellow. I exhale largely, my bangs flitting over my eyelids, my gaze shifting from neon colored polos to pastel cardigans. Purple, maybe. I extend my hand to the top shelf, my fingers grasping a lavender blouse. Before today, I had always shopped, however pathetic, with Jeremy in mind; would he like what I was buying? And now…well now, I’m just trying to pick out clothes without bursting into tears. I bring it down, examining the white pearl buttons lining the cuffs, when I hear a sharp intake of breathe from beside to me.
“Oh, my gosh. Please tell me this shirt comes in an extra small.”
The slight girls’ sudden, British outburst startles me, and the blouse drifts to the ground, landing soundlessly. Her tiny hand floats towards the blouse like a butterfly, and she holds it up, looking at it in adoration. Her eyes are huge, brown and adorable. She’s practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, and her cherry corkscrews the same. I can already conclude that she’s an overwhelming person to be around, that she radiates happiness and hyper activeness. She offers me the piece of clothing, and I take it, once again fingering the pliable material.
“You are buying this, right? Because it would look darling with the jeans you’re wearing now.”
I smile involuntarily, laughing a little too. “Yeah, I think I am. I’m pretty sure I did see an extra small, in green too,” I add.
She squeals and her face jerks towards the shelves, scouring for the said green shirt. I’d assumed that green was her favorite color, based on the Army green jeans and black sweater with jade stitching that she wore. By the way she shrieked I’d say that I’m right. She sighs in contentment when she retrieves a smaller version of my shirt, but olive colored, from the pile of others.
“This is brilliant! Do you want to check out together?”
She wraps her slim fingers around my tanned arm and stares at me expectantly, a spectacular grin plastered on her innocent face. I am about to concede, but someone steps forward and places a large hand on her petite shoulder.
“Darcy, love, I’d rather not spend the remainder of the evening in a female clothing store.”
Darcy glances up, having to raise her eyes a good seven inches to come level with the male speakers face. It dawned on me with a burst of excitement that I was speaking with two British natives. My obsession with England is something that isn’t unknown among my fellow classmates; I’m well-known for it actually. So anybody that knows me knows that being in the situation that I’m in now is extremely amazing.
“Who is this,” he asks, inclining his head in my direction.
I had already assumed that the newcomer would be attractive. His deep baritone voice was lightly accented by England, smooth and lazy. I had a sudden, insistent urge to completely lose myself in his emerald eyes and comb my fingers through his glossy charcoal hair. And I can’t help but notice his cheek bones, high and defined, leading right into sparkling green globes. Globes that are currently scrutinizing my pretty purple shirt. Darcy cocks her head to the side, wearing a sheepish expression.
“I suppose we never got that far, did we?”
“I’m-
Darcy squeals again, this time her eyes dead set on a black shelf a couple feet away, and she dashes over there. The guy chuckles, his perfect white teeth gleaming. I had always heard that British people had horrible teeth. Wrong.
“You see, my sister is very intent on expanding her American wardrobe.”
Darcy’s glancing furtively between two pairs of leggings, biting her lip in indecision.
“Darcy!” he calls, and she looks up. She frowns slightly, and, casting one last forlorn look at the neon-yellow objects, skips back over to where I and this very dashing stranger still stand. Did I mention that he look absolutely nothing, like Jeremy?
“So, what’s your name, then? You’re absolutely gorgeous, “she gushes, “Is your hair naturally that shiny and blonde? Lucky! I wish my –“
Her brother places a hand over her rapid fire lips and she stares up at him, blinking her wide brown eyes and trying to struggle out of his grasp. He shakes his head in exasperation.
“If I let you go, will you stop bombarding the nice American with questions?”
Darcy nods eagerly and her brother removes his hand that comically takes up the majority of her face. I’m not sure I felt about being called a ‘nice American,” but I let it slide for the moment.
“This is Darcy. My calm, very serene, sister.”
Darcy giggles girlishly and sticks out her small hand.
“I’m Lux,” I state not being able to contain the smile that spreads across my face at the sibling’s antics.
The guy crinkles his nose, “Lux? What an abnormal name.”
My smile fades, as I become uncomfortable under his skeptical stare. Darcy punches his side.
“Really Cullen, must you be an obnoxious boar to everyone that we meet? Couldn’t I just have one friend that doesn’t run away screaming? Please?”
“Actually, I do believe that’s its usually crying that they are doing” Cullen states thoughtfully, then sighs and smirks, at the same time, “But I suppose I could back off, just this once.”
Darcy rolls her eyes, and then beams at me with curiosity.
“So do you attend Bentley? That’s where Cullen and I are going. Is it nice? How long have you lived here, do you have siblings? Do they go there to? Do you have to-“She cuts herself off catching a wary glance from Cullen. I laugh and decide to indulge her with answers to her abundance of questions.
“I do actually, go there, and it’s a very nice school I suppose. I have lived here my whole life, and I have a half brother who is five.” I think about my answer for a moment, making sure I had answered all of her questions. I notice Cullen looking at me curiously, his eyebrows pulled together, as if he’s thinking very hard on something.
Then Darcy launches into her life story like we hadn’t just met and we had been friends forever. She explains to me how her family had moved to California five years ago but then their father had gotten a job in Main. Before California, they had lived in Manchester, England with her grandparents. The names of their ten cousins, aunts, and uncles were also divulged to me in a matter of three minutes.
Before Darcy could dive into the story of ‘that one time cousin Henry went swimming naked in the River Thames’, Cullen thankfully stepped in.
“Darce, we really must be going. Mum wanted us home by five, remember?”
“Right, right. Well, I’ll see you soon Lux, yes?”
So she threw her arms around me, and skipped towards the exit. And I stand there and stare after her, my mouth agape.
“Does she ever stop?” I ask Cullen who is leaning nonchalantly on the counter with polka-dot sweaters stacked on it, just looking at me strangely.
“You know, you handle her quite nicely.”
“Well, why wouldn’t I? She seems very nice, if not overly trusting.”
He pushes off the shelf and towers over me,” She has a very mild case of ADD. People don’t usually have the patience, or the attention span to be in her presence for long. So thank you, I’m sure it meant a lot to her.”
He studies me a moment longer. But then just as suddenly as the appreciation and sincerity had appeared, it’s replaced with that beguiling smirk.
“Anyways, I’ll see you later…Lux.”
He’s nearly at the exit, when he swivels on his heels. “Oh, and get something blue, it’ll bring out your eyes.”
He walks out the door. Jeremy who?
