Life Is Real

Chapter Nine

I was forced into the mall. I'd call it abuse, but I wouldn't because it just wasn't abuse. I was dragged into a store with dresses lining the walls, not to mention to assortment of 70s women's wear. Mary immediately rushed to one outfit and held it to her chest.

"Wouldn't Casha here look dashing in this?" Mary chimed as Casha made an iffy face. Obviously, Casha and I weren't too keen on the 1970s clothing and styles.

"Yes, absolutely splendid, my dear," I said in my snobbiest British accent. "C'mon, Cash, try it on."

Casha gave a solemn shake of her head. I wouldn't blame her. What Mary had chosen was a pastel blue... Thing. The article of clothing was a weird sort of shirt, one Casha nor I found attractive in the least.

"Oh Casha, please?" Veronica begged, plucking the outfit from Mary's hands. "For us?"

"And you can even get a perm after!" Chrissy said with a smile. "Your hair would look amazing in a perm."

Casha and I exchanged disgusted glances when Chrissy said perm. I shrugged and walked off further into the store, trying to find something that was the least bit non-70s. I flipped through seemingly miles of ugly sweaters, and another row of high-waisted jeans. I gulped at the sight of the display of the extra-bulky leg warmers and completely disapproved the grungy jean vests that sat on a counter. Everything was utterly horrendous, so I decided that wearing the same clothes I'd been wearing since I arrived in the 70s would be a more beneficial idea.

"Excuse me, do you need any help finding anything?" A store employee asked.

"Um, not really," I replied. The lanky employee nodded subtly, but I stopped him when I spoke again. "Unless you have clothes like these."

The employee glanced at my clothing, trying to identify what exactly the articles of it were. "Hm," he sighed. "I don't think we do. I've never seen things like these before."

I looked at myself. Ripped skinny jeans and a baggy black sweater. Not to mention my trusty sneaks that were beginning to wear a hole in the heel. "Darn," I muttered. "Not even one sweater?"

"Well, we do have a wide variety of sweaters over here," the employee stated. I had peered at his name tag, the metal piece bearing the name Mark. He led me over to the ugly sweaters that I'd already had a chance to observe.

"No thank you," I laughed.

"Oh? You don't like these?" Mark asked sincerely.

"Not at all!" I screeched, chuckling after at the surprised look on his face. "Do you see how ugly these... These rags are?"

"Hadley!" I heard a familiar voice shout. It was Mary. She linked my arm with hers and pulled me away. "Like I said," she continued, "somebody fancies you. Don't go off flirting with people."

"I wasn't flirting with anybody," I murmured. I questioned who this special somebody was who Mary kept mentioning.

I was pushed over towards the rest of the girls. Casha was in the outfit Mary had chosen, but before I could say anything, Veronica dropped clothes into my arms. It was one of those grotesque sweaters and some odd sort of jeans. I was shoved into a change room with the clothes. I decided I would benefit from wondering who my secret admirer was, rather than changing into the horrendous 70s clothing that was given to me. I went through the checklist of people that both Mary and I would know.

Freddie. Well, that wouldn't make sense. Freddie was dating Mary, and he really loved her. Why would Mary even want to inform me know of Freddie's admirations? It couldn't possibly be Freddie.