I'll Be Holding on to You

my deviant

I made Erika go to Ross with me for clothes because they always have some random interesting tank tops that are perfect for me. Yes, Ross is my favorite clothing store. I have no pride.

We were going through the dresses and they were perfectly hideous. "Here's one for you," I said, holding out a long, polyester number in green squares and yellow triangles.

"Thank you, that's just my style," she said gratefully, holding it up to her. "How do I look, dahling?"

"Not as good as you will in this one." I shook a sequined number from side to side. It also had tassels. "For dancing or stripping."

"Here, this just screams 'Dory'." She held out a blue dress with yellow trim.

"Oh, nice; a movie reference regarding my name. That's fresh and new." I found a yellow dress that was cute and put it in the blue cart.

"Or how 'bout this one? 80s fashion never looked so good." She modeled a long one with blue and white diagonal stripes.

"Jesus." I held up a button-up beige box dress with shoulder pads. "The Golden Girls called and they want half this stuff back."

She laughed and I was pleased. "I remember when you loved that show."

I looked around in mock alarm. "Please, please. Don't advertise it, Laura Ingalls Wilder's number one fan."

"Everyone loves Little House on the Prairie," she said dismissively. "Everyone."

"Everyone loves Betty White," I countered. "What about this lovely garment?" It was pink and orange with a two inch brown belt, brown trim, and a gold buckle. Truly hideous.

"You could get away with it." She was flipping through the hanging dresses. "Crap, crap, crap, dear God what is that thing, crap, crap."

"I can get away with like, three colors and two styles," I said, which she knew damn well.

"Shut up, you could wear a fucking Glad bag and still be hotter than the rest of us."

I knew this was the kind of things friends just said to each other but it made me ridiculously happy. I was so pathetic.

An old lady with blue hair gave her a dirty look. Freak noticed and scoffed at me. "Like she's never heard the word fucking before."

"I love you, dude," I said, happily.

"Maybe we should really piss some uptight motherfuckers off in here and pretend we're lesbians together," she said, having no idea how her joking flipped my heart over a thousand times.

"You wish," is what I said, trying to sound like I didn't care.

"Maybe I do," she said, puckering up her lips and making a kissing sound. "Here, I've got it." She held out a little white dress with yellow trim and spaghetti straps, falling mid-thigh. "It's you."

"Um, yes please." It was exactly my style. "Finally, something. Though it's not exactly summer anymore."

"Ooh, and this." A similar one with a floral pattern that wasn't gag worthy.

"Into the cart."

We got some shirts and dresses and jeans and then went into the dressing room. There were a million open doors and hardly anyone else. She had my stuff, because we could only bring in five items at a time, and she had only found two things of her own to try on. She hung up everything in one of the stalls and I put mine across from her and we left the doors open like we always did.