Wicked Ways to Ruin a Boy

14 | Bad Blood

While her mother and Blythe giggled like schoolgirls, Agatha said, "I'm going to look for those mittens for Willow."

"Okay," Stella said, distracted. To Blythe she said, "Are you ladies doing some holiday shopping?"

Agatha tugged on Cora's coat sleeve as she left. Cora made to follow, but her mother put her hand on her arm, stopping her.

"We are," said Blythe. "And my Teddy needs some new work shirts."

"Oh, how is Ted?" Stella asked.

She hated when her mother got like this, extra cheery around her friend. Blythe was Stella's only friend as far as she knew. From her peripheral vision, Cora saw Tilda roll her eyes. She picked up a black watch and examined it.

Did Beau need a new one? She wasn't sure.

Her mother intruded on her thoughts by tapping her shoulder. "Honey." She never called Cora that any other time. "Why don't you go along with Tilda to do some catching up. Here." She took forty dollars out of her purse and gave it to her. "Meet us at the front of the mall in an hour."

She didn't have time to say, "but Mom," because Stella and Blythe had already begun to walk away, the both of them having the giggles.

Tilda rolled her eyes again. "So," she said, she trailed an orange polished finger across the counter where the watches were arranged. "You still go to that school?"

"Thorne Point High," said Cora, correcting her.

Tilda had graduated high school early, but as far as Cora knew she wasn't in college yet. "I'm going to school in Paris next year," she said. "Mother thinks it'll be good for me to experience a new culture, to get out of Elorie once and for all." She moved out of the way to let a woman pass, seeming annoyed that she'd brushed against her. She dusted off her shoulder. "Are you going to college?"

"FAE," Cora said. "I got early admission. One of the few they sent out."

Tilda started ahead, expecting Cora to follow. Cora did. "I have friends at FAE," Tilda said. They think it's okay." She shrugged. "What are you studying?"

"Journalism or marketing," she said quickly. She always felt like she was being quizzed whenever she was with Tilda. She always got the answers wrong.

Tilda snorted. "You?"

Cora kept quiet.

Here we go.

Tilda didn't waste any time bringing out her claws.

"You don't seem like the type," she said. "No offence."

She guessed that Tilda also wanted to study fashion. She followed after her, all the way up to the shoe section on the second floor where they were met with a chaos of women checking out the season's latest in boot wear or shoving pudgy feet into stylish heels. The salespeople ran around with shoeboxes, like mice over a discarded piece of cheese. Tilda stopped at a stand that displayed black ankle boots. She picked up a pair with a red sole. Cora could see her in them. The heel was so thin you could chisel ice with it.

Like they were children again, she found herself wanting Tilda's approval. Although they were the same age, Tilda had always been like a cooler distant sister. "Those are so cute," she said, in an attempt to appease her.

Tilda smirked, snapped her fingers at a salesman in black and white, and said, "I'd like these in a size six."

"Yes, ma'am," he said and left for their stockroom.

Tilda's gaze fell on Cora's shoes. "You aren't getting anything?" Her tone was snide.

She hadn't considered it but walked a few feet away to another stand, picking up a tall, brown boot to check the price. Sixty dollars made it too expensive. "You know what," she said, "I think I'll save my money this time."