Chapter Thirteen: Let's Go to the Mall
The discussion between the news reporters on the television screen entertains my right ear as I continue to scroll through my phone. I'm sprawled out across my couch in my pajamas, and plan to stay in this position the entire weekend. My mom happens to be sitting on the love seat perpendicular to my feet wearing her own t-shirt, and plaid pajama bottoms. A steaming mug of coffee sits in her hand and a big bun sits on top of her head. I turn my head towards the T.V. and watch as they advertise some new products just before my phone dings in my hand.
I have an idea.
After giving Xavier my number the other day, he texted me that night, promptly providing me with his, but the rest of the week went by and I haven't spoken to him since. I go to exit out of the game I'm playing to respond to his text just as another chimes in.
Wanna come to the mall with me?
I abruptly dart up from my lazy position on the couch. "Mom?"
"Mm," she hums before turning to me with her coffee cup hovering over her lips.
I lock my phone, and turn the screen black, but I wouldn't be surprised if the only thing my mom could see are the whites of my eyes. It's nine o'clock in the morning, but all it took was some random text request, and suddenly I'm wide awake.
"Do you remember how I told you that I've been talking to the older brother to one of the kids in my grade?"
My mom's eyebrows furrow as she takes a second to think. "Xavier?"
All I can bring myself to do is frantically nod while her nods are slow as she as makes the full recollection.
As surprising as it may be to some people, I tell my mom everything. Whether it's something as frivolous as what cereal I ate in the morning, or a full-blown description of the bizarre dream I had the night before. I always confide in her, and it only made sense to tell her about Xavier Cassidy ever since he began making more and more appearances in my everyday life.
"What about him?" my mom's voice has my eyes flitting back over to her, and I find myself biting the end of my thumbnail.
"Well, he asked if I wanted to go to the mall with him and um . . ." My eyes land on my iPhone again, and my heart thumps a little too hard against my chest at the two text messages lying beneath the black screen.
"You can go," my mom chirps, and nods a few times to confirm the statement when my wide eyes land on her again. "As long as you text me when you get there and keep me updated every few hours about what you're doing."
"I know, but . . ." I trail off again as my stomach knots itself together.
"Unless you don't want to go," my mom says before finally taking a sip of her coffee.
My teeth instantly sink into my lower lip while my back finally sinks back down against the back of the couch. By now it may be kind of obvious, and maybe even a little pathetic, but I don't really get out much. My weekends usually consist of doing homework, watching television, and running errands with my mom. That routine is even more pathetic now that Wren's not here to do it with me. Then again, I guess I shouldn't complain since my sister recently confirmed that college doesn't provide enough free time to enable lazy Saturdays.
My phone beeps in my hand again and the new text lights up the screen.
How about this, I'll pick up in about an hour.
My eyebrows furrow and I finally get my fingers to type out a response.
Do I have a choice?
I shouldn't be surprised by the next text that floats in, but my heart still stutters inside my chest.
See you then.
I open and close my mouth a few times before I emit a strangled sound, and abruptly stand up from the couch.
"You're going?"
I throw my phone back down onto the couch cushion before immediately scrambling to catch it before it flies onto the floor. "He actually decided not to give me a choice."
My mom almost chokes on her coffee as she laughs. "Maybe I should try that when your dad decides to leave his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor."
****
Forty minutes later, I'm wiggling my eyebrows in the mirror and am still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I'm still not sprawled out on the couch. My comfy pjs were sadly traded in for a pair of light jeans and a grey three-fourths sleeved t-shirt. A quick shower left me with damp hair that I braided back and away from my face, thanks to some partial assistance from my mom.
I still can't believe I'm going to the mall with Xavier Cassidy. Actually, I still can't believe I'm being forced to go to the mall with Xavier Cassidy.
I give myself one final look in the mirror before retreating out of the bathroom. My combat boots sound like an avalanche coming down the stairs as I momentarily forget that my dad's still sleeping, and I lighten my steps as I round the banister, swiping my army green jacket off it along the way. I throw the jacket around my shoulders before plopping back down on the couch. My hand automatically picks my phone back up from where I left it in my muddled haste to get ready, and the knots that latched onto my stomach before resurface as I slowly unlock it.
I guess this is what I get for being antisocial. Anxiousness every time I do go out.
My foot begins nervously tapping against the carpet underneath the coffee table and even though it makes no sound, I can just picture the beat of it in my head. It falls in sync with the accelerated beat coming from within my chest, and I go to bite my thumbnail again, but then my phone chimes.
You have a red door right?
No, I made you drop me off at a random house the other day. I immediately type back, but when a honk resonates from outside, I take it as his response. I stand up, and stuff my phone in my pocket before lightly jogging my way into the kitchen.
"Bye, love you," I say, and give my mom a quick kiss on the cheek from her position at the sink before dashing away, and almost smashing into a sleepy-eyed version of my dad. "Bye, dad, love you." I repeat the cheek kiss before sliding past him as my mom throws me a farewell over her shoulder.
I step outside and am immediately greeted by a chilly breeze while my eyes land on a small black car parked across my front lawn. As I get closer to it, I see Xavier's mop of hair as he's bent over the center console, fidgeting with something. I pull open the passenger side door and his head flies up.
"I cleaned most of it up." He retreats back into his seat, sending his seat belt snapping back with him. "But I'm just letting you know that if you see any chip bags, they're mine, but if it smells like sewage then its Ryan's fault."
"Hello to you too." I can't decide whether to laugh, or be disgusted, but I go with both as I plop down in the leather seat.
"Ryan usually leaves his gym bags and football gear in the back, but last night he forgot to take them out."
"Oh." I shut the door behind me, but find myself tentatively reaching for my seatbelt as if preparing for the horrid smell. Luckily, I mostly smell leather with only a hint of sweat.
"Even though he only has his permit, we both saved up and bought this car together, so I can't even yell at him about it." Xavier continues.
I click my buckle into place. He puts the gear in drive.
Then we're off.
"So," Xavier starts again as the car crawls down my street. Xavier looks both ways before turning onto the main road. "I bet you're wondering why I'm dragging you to the mall with me."
With just that one sentence he manages to bring back the slightly awkward, randomly amusing, yet kind of comfortable atmosphere between us, and although I still can't unclamp my hands from my thighs, the knots in my stomach slowly begin to untangle.
"I was a little surprised."
"Well, I figured we could help each other out. You could help me score a date with Target girl, while I can help you with your . . ." Xavier trails off as he flicks his blinker down and checks the rearview mirror before changing lanes.
"With my what?" I ask when he still doesn't finish his sentence.
"I don't know." Xavier hastily waves his right hand before clamping it back down on the wheel. The thing that makes my mouth drop, though, is the way his left-hand darts up, and brings one of his grey sweatshirt strings up to his lips.
"You were going to call me awkward, weren't you?"
"What—no." The sweatshirt string flies from his lips, and I'm momentarily worried that he's going to swerve the car, but he luckily stops at a red light instead.
"I wasn't." He takes the opportunity to throw me a look, but I don't by it one bit. "Fine!" He directs his attention back out the windshield as he eases his foot back down on the gas. "I was actually going to say your inhibitions, but . . ."
I almost would've believed him if I didn't happen to pass another glance in his direction, and catch the small smile stretching across his lips.
"You were not!"
"Inhibitions." Xavier practically laughs out the word. "Were focusing on getting past your social inhibitions." He then flicks the radio volume up a little higher.
We continue driving as roads lined with trees and sticky brown leaves become clear ramps and highways.
"I have a question," I say, and even though my gaze is glued to the world outside the passenger window, I can still sense the way Xavier continues to nod his head to the beat of the song playing.
"What's up?"
I continue to play with jacket zipper, dragging it up and down a few times before finally blurting out, "do you know what college you want to go to?"
Xavier's fingers stop drumming against the steering wheel before he shrugs. "I applied to a few schools around the state, but I guess it's just a matter of which one accepts me." He shrugs again before passing a glance my way. "Why?"
"I was just wondering." Now I'm the one shrugging as my attention falls back onto the road in front of us, and the way a car goes out of its way to pass by us.
We pass by cars the same way we pass by people. Here I am, glancing out the car window, looking at people that I will probably never meet, and most likely will never see again, but as of right now we are both driving down the same road, taking the same path, to get to our own destinations. There are about seven billion people in this world, but we will only cross paths with a handful of them, glance at about a fourth of them, and will never have the chance to meet all of them.
"So how old is your sister?" Xavier's voice pierces through my thoughts and I turn my head back over to him.
"She started college this fall."
"Ah—" He's tapping his fingers again. "I guess that means you're kind of like an only child right now."
"I guess." My eyes catch on to the familiar strip malls that are like breadcrumbs that lead to the actual mall. "But I talk to her, or my mom talks to her almost every other day, so it's like she's still home."
"Well, I know Ryan's excited for me to go," Xavier says the phrase so casually. Almost as casually as he flicks on his blinker again, and I can't help but frown.
"How so?"
Xavier shrugs as we turn into the mall parking lot. "I just don't think he'll miss me that much."
My mind immediately flashes back to the day we dropped Wren off. The way the water built up in the corners of her eyes as we stood in front of her dorm room. My legs teetered from side to side in my reluctance to walk away, and Wren teetered in the doorway of her room as if she didn't want us to go. We hugged more times that day than we've hugged my entire life, and I cried myself to sleep for days every time I glanced at her empty bed.
Up until then, we've never been apart. And I remember this terrible feeling settling deep inside my gut because I knew that after that day everything was going to change. That day marked the end of our childhoods, and the beginning of the next phase of our lives.
"That's not true," I say just as my seatbelt snaps back.
Xavier cuts the ignition before cutting his gaze back over to mine.
"He'll miss you." I don't let my words sink in, but rather shove my way out of the car, and hope he follows.
The sky darkens around the parking lot as the clouds cover the sun. Although the sun is trying its hardest to poke through, there is a still a chill in the air that marks the chill of the upcoming season. Xavier rounds the car, and I send my mom a quick text before we both make the trek across the parking lot.
We enter straight into Target through the automatic doors and the heat from inside immediately wraps around my fingertips. The second I almost get run down by a mother, her three kids, and her red shopping cart, I remember it's a Saturday morning, and the chaos has only begun. Xavier leads the way, and I happily follow behind. I keep my eyes trained on the plaid poking out from underneath his sweatshirt, and attempt to decide whether that's his underwear, or his shirt. I hope it's the latter, but plan on making fun of him if it's the former.
After a while, I give up on trying to stay in time with Xavier's quick strides and decide that since he kind of dragged me here, I'm allowed to go at my own pace. My eyes sift around, taking in the lines of cosmetics before they transform into aisles of cleaning products. My hand falls inside my left jacket pocket, and I triumphantly pull out a twenty-dollar bill. I knew I left it in there.
"Gah!" I yelp when I'm yanked beside a clothing wrack. "What was that for?"
"Ssh," Xavier hisses as he holds a finger up to his lips.
"What's going—?"
Xavier cuts me off by latching onto my wrist again, and dragging me a few more feet before crouching back down behind another clothing rack, and once again yanking me down beside him.
"She's over there." He drops my wrist to peek between the clothes.
I follow suit and find a girl folding clothing at the desk in front of the women's dressing rooms. Her blonde hair is thrown up in a big bun on top of her head and she's wearing the signature red employee polo. I flicker my eyes around her form, but those are the only things I can really pick up on from here.
"Go talk to her."
My head whips around so fast I'm surprised I don't get whiplash. "No."
Xavier raises both of his eyebrows as if my answer surprised him. "Um, yes."
"You talk to her." I fling my arm out in the girl's general direction.
"No." Xavier scoffs, but when he notices my glare he adds, "I don't want to be creepy."
"We're hiding behind a clothing rack, I think this is as creepy as it gets."
Xavier grips my wrist again. "All you have to do is walk over there, introduce yourself, and then tell her that you have a friend that likes her. Okay? Now go!" He shoves me out from behind the clothing rack and my feet topple over each other as I attempt to straighten myself back up.
I glance around to see if anyone noticed my stumbling, or our huddled forms, but the closest person happens to be a woman, and she seems very intent on digging through the sales rack at the opposite end of the section. My eyes flicker back down to a crouched Xavier Cassidy, and he uses his hands to continue to shoo me away before going back to chewing on his sweatshirt strings.
My gaze lands on Target girl again, and my clammy hands begin wrestling each other. I've never really been a wing-woman before, but I guess there's no getting out of this.
I take slow, deliberate steps up to counter, and only register that I reach the front of it when my arm hits the wood. The girl looks up at me, and for a split second, my brown eyes lock with her bright blue ones. For a split second, her bun transforms into a buzz cut, and Ryan Cassidy is staring back at me.
I blink my eyes a couple of times, blinking the image away, and try to focus back in on Target girl's face. She gives me a tentative smile since I still haven't said anything, but her smile only makes Ryan's ring more prominently in my mind.
"I'm sorry, it's just—" I shake my head before planting the tips of my fingers on top of the counter. "Can I ask you a question?"
Target girl nods, and her "how can I help you" smile never falters, so I take that as my cue to flick my thumb over my shoulder.
"Can you discreetly look over my shoulder and tell me if you know the guy that is trying to hide behind that clothing rack on the right, but is kind of failing?"
Target girl's smile drops, and I can see the hesitation in her eyes before she warily flicks them to the space behind my head. She exhales a sigh of relief the second she spots the not so camouflaged Cassidy boy.
"Yes." Her perky smile returns. "He's my cousin."
"That son of a gun."