The Brightest Star in a Constellation

56: Do You Think I'd Look Good in Blue?

She flits about, holding out shirts and coats for me to try. Peter carries them for me as we make our way through the selection.

"What colour do you want?" Elaine calls from across the display table. She holds out a powder blue jacket and places it on top of the pile with a nod. "Black is so typical. Do you really want that?"

"Yeah... I don't think I need to stand out."

Tossing another black jacket at me with a roll of her eyes, she says, "It's a small graduating class. You're going to stand out no matter what you do."

Peter nudges me with the clothes hangers. "She has a point."

"I'm always right," Elaine replies without missing a beat. To me, she says, "And you're going to leave, so who cares? Wear whatever you want."

I finish eating and toss the wad of paper into a trash can a few feet away. Elaine and Peter watch in rapt silence and (for my benefit, at least) they don't make fun of me when it misses and I have to pick it up.

"Okay," I say as I return to the store. "Let's try those jackets on."

I find a fitting room, cycling through the options. I have black dress pants from work, so I just need to convince Elaine that it's the best option.

Cracking open the door, I poke my head out. Elaine leans against the three-sided mirror, scuttling away to let me look.

From every direction, I'm staring at myself. None of the directions make it seem any more like me. "Jesus, I look like a vampire."

"You think?" Peter says from behind me.

Elaine giggles and motions for me to get back into the fitting room. "If you didn't say it, I was going to. Try on the blue!"

I open my mouth to protest, but she moves faster to shut the door. Giving in, I put on the light blue jacket. It hugs my shoulders and comes down past my waist in a slight v-shape. The silver buttons glint in the orange light.

"Ready," I grumble, exiting the fitting room.

Elaine gasps as I step out. "What did I tell you? That's the one!"

I catch Peter's smile in the mirror. He nods in agreement. "It suits you."

"Is that a pun?" Elaine glances back at him, stifling a snort. She spins me halfway around in front of the mirror so fast that I have to gain my bearings. "Nice. Now we need to find something that matches."

And she sets a course to locate a pair of pants in the same shade and a white undershirt. It takes another few stores before she finds it—and the hour is gone before I can take notice of it leaving me behind.

☆ ☽ ☆

When we arrive back at the hotel, I stick my suit on the door hangar. Elaine and Randall have a room on the second floor, but she comes to mine anyway, hangs off the bedside, with her head against the carpet. She's sipping orange juice through a straw, peering at me as she tries to stay balanced upside down.

"What are you doing?" I set my phone aside and ask.

"Drinking juice," she says, matter-of-factly. Placing the juice box on the floor, she kicks her legs over her head and somersaults backward into a sitting position. "Apparently, I can drink like this in any position. Neat, right?"

I smile. Elaine lays with her elbows against the carpet, facing the growing mountain of my laundry stacked onto a chair. "What's that shirt?" She points to the amusement park shirt, which sticks out from under a hoodie and a pair of jeans. "Where did you get that?"

"That's... that's Peter's shirt. I borrowed it," I say, shrugging.

"Oh." She pauses. "I didn't know. He's pretty cool."

"Yeah, he is."

She takes a sip of juice and flattens the box until it's empty. "Are you, like... going to prom with him?"

I slide off the bedside. Elaine joins me as we head downstairs to meet Randall at the restaurant for dinner. Once I'm in the safety of the elevator, I say, "I haven't asked him to come with me yet."

"What?" Elaine narrows her eyes at me. "You're so dumb."

"Yeah, yeah, don't remind me."

The door slides open, and I head to the restaurant. By now, I know where I'm going; I've been to Lotus frequently while I've stayed here, if only to give myself something to do. A server leads us to a booth in the corner, where Randall is perusing the menu options.

He sets it down next to his mug of coffee as Elaine settles into the space next to me. "Did you have a good time?"

"Can we stay for longer?" Elaine pleads, turning her wide eyes in his direction. "Staying in a hotel is fun."

I stifle my urge to point that it gets boring after a while. In front of me, I catch Randall's eyebrows furrow. He says, "Have you spoken to your mother?"

"She came to yell at me when I was at work. After that, not really. I don't want her to contact me anymore."

"She's still the same way she's always been," Randall replies, stirring a ramekin of milk into his drink. "Not much has changed, there. I told her that I have your number, in case she ever needs it. But I think she has too much pride to use it."

There's a pause. Elaine traces her fingernail against the edge of her menu.

Sensing the unease, Randall says, "Anyway, enough about that. What else have you been doing?"

"Not much." I shrug, like it doesn't really matter.

The server comes to the table to take our orders. Once he's gone, Elaine places her elbows against the table and tells me, "I'm taking piano lessons, now. I've been practicing with Tyler. The band is getting pretty good."

I nod weakly as she forges on, telling me what she's been doing at school. She's smiling, kicking me underneath the table when she reaches the most interesting part of her stories.

I smile back. This is all I have left, I tell myself. This must be what ephemera feels like.