Michael sighed again. "I guess you're right. Thanks, Luke."

"It's no problem," I said with a smile. "Hey, I have to go. I have some shopping to do."

"If you end up wearing jeans and a worn-out t-shirt to graduation, I will brutally murder you!"

I laughed, and I ended the call.

✘✘✘

"This one?"

"No."

"How about this one?"

"No."

"Okay, this one."

"Ew. No."

"Thi—"

"No."

"Lucas, you didn't even look!" Liz said shrilly. "You're being so difficult, I swear."

I rolled my eyes at Liz. I was glad my back was to her, so she couldn't see me rolling my eyes. I continued checking through the racks at the tuxedo store.

"I did look," I retorted, "and I don't like it."

"Why can't you just choose a tuxedo, for crying out loud?" Liz complained. "They're all the same! It's a jacket, a white button-up, slacks, fancy shoes, a tie, and that's it! Sure, sometimes they come in different colors, but that is it. All suits, tuxedos, whatever—they are exactly the same!"

"Barney Stinson would beg to differ," I muttered under my breath.

And then I saw it.

I don't know why, but I was attracted to it. I loved the way it was made, the material, the color, the picture in my brain of the way it would look on me. It was like I had fallen in love with a tuxedo the way I loved Calum. It even made me question if I loved Calum more than this tuxedo, because this tuxedo was pretty damn sexy.

"I want it," I managed to sputter out.

Liz clapped excitedly, and I felt my own excitement drain from my body. It was a shame, really. Liz and I were excited about the same thing for once. We agreed on something for once. After all these years of hating Liz, I have grown to hate her so much that I can't even like the same things as her anymore. I wouldn't let that ruin me. I wanted that tuxedo.

"Try it on!" Liz rushed. She grabbed the tuxedo from the rack and pushed me into the fitting room. Hastily, I took off my Chuck Taylor's and began to change out of my ripped skinny jeans, but I wouldn't dare take off my Pierce the Veil shirt. I put on the slacks first, and checked if they suited my legs nicely. I put the jacket over my Pierce the Veil shirt, looked in the mirror, and I laughed. I looked like an informal James Bond.

I had to admit, I didn't mind my face because of this suit.

I took off the slacks and the jacket, put my skinny jeans and Chuck Taylor's back on, and I walked out of the fitting room with a smile on my face.

"How'd it fit?" Liz asked me.

"I love it," I told her. "It fits perfectly."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Liz said with a smile. "Let's go buy it!"

Liz and I made our way to the front of the tuxedo and suit shop, where an old man stood in front of a cash register. I awkwardly put the suit on the check stand, and I probably made it even more awkward by smiling so much. The old man quickly scanned the price tag.

"Ninety-five dollars," he said.

"Holy fuck!"

I said it immediately and so quickly that it could be mistaken for only one word. Liz didn't even try to scold me for saying a bad word—she was equally as astonished.

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