. . . . .

THE ELEVATOR gently ascended to the second level of the shopping mall, and the anticipation inside me built with every passing floor. It was as if time itself had slowed down, amplifying my excitement.

My mother, perceptive to my elation, adjusted her sunglasses and curiously asked, "What's causing that smile, young lady?"

Describing the flood of emotions that overcame me proved to be a challenge. I could only liken it to a delightful swarm of butterflies in my belly, each flutter making my heart skip a beat. I had no real excuse as to why I felt so happy. It could've been down to a number of things: Spending time with my mom, or even just shopping itself.

When we left the elevator and walked, with our eyes unable to blink as we passed several shops, a particular shop window provided an unexpected mirror. The dark red, crimson body-con dress it reflected hugged my curves gracefully. A dainty mini bow perched at the dress's top which added an extra touch of elegance, captivating me entirely. In that moment, I knew I had to have it, but the question lingered – where would I find an occasion to wear such a dress?

I never went anywhere!

To my astonishment, my mom offered to purchase it, and with boundless enthusiasm, I headed to the fitting rooms.

Slipping into the dress, I marveled at how perfectly it accentuated my figure. The straps draped comfortably over my arms, the dress draped my hips gracefully, and it concluded just above my knees, making me feel beautiful as I admired myself in the mirror.

I hadn't felt this good in a very long time. But I guess I didn't allow myself to ponder on my looks too much nowadays.

Stepping out from behind the curtain, I watched my mother's eyes light up. She cast aside her magazine and grabbed her phone, exclaiming, "Let me snap this and send it to Aunt Lynette!"

Panic surged within me. This could end up all over Facebook for every nosy forty-something mother to see. "Mom, please, no!" I protested, but it was too late. She was already capturing moments, and I feared I'd look unamused, which Aunt Lynette would undoubtedly comment on.

My aunt's well-intentioned but blunt comments about my figure irked me. She'd remark on my need to gain weight, my skinniness for a seventeen-year-old, or suggest I shouldn't wear something because it didn't flatter my figure. While Mom insisted Aunt Lynette meant well, her remarks often felt downright rude.

But she didn't comprehend the inner struggles I faced. I couldn't return the favor and comment on her tobacco addiction, now, could I?

Maybe it was because I was still a kid that she felt entitled to comment on everything, making me feel bad about things I couldn't control. Yes, I was unusually slender, but my body's growth wasn't something I could change. I was honestly surprised the dress even fit me.

I sighed at my thoughts, wincing as Mom took another picture. Then another, and another, and one more. "Stand up straight, dear," she suggested, and, reluctantly, I complied, if only to avoid her endless counsel about respecting my elders.

"Fine," I grumbled, hands on my hips. "If anyone I know sees these, I'm booking a flight somewhere incognito," I warned her, narrowing my eyes. She merely nodded, continuing her impromptu photoshoot.

"Okay, that's enough fun," I declared after a minute, turning to change back into my usual clothes.

When evolping my mom into a hug, we headed to a charming café that was on the ground floor of the mall. My stomach was grumbling for something— anything. I hadn't eaten since his morning and it was now passed lunch time. My head was slightly fuzzy but I was putting that down to just not eating yet.

The café was small and cozy, with soft lighting and warm colors that made me feel right at home. There were a few small tables with mismatched chairs scattered around the room, each one adorned with a vase of bright flowers.

"Welcome, what can I get for you guys today?" A friendly guy with striking pink hair greeted us, his warm smile putting us at ease.

"One black coffee and a cheese toasty, please," Mom ordered, and the guy efficiently recorded it on the register.

Turning his attention to me, he asked, "And for you?"

I pointed to the mouthwatering display of brownies and made my choice, "A blueberry smoothie and one of those brownies, please."

An uncomfortable shiver ran down my spine as the guy flashed a toothy smile, and his lingering gaze made me squirm. To make things more awkward, Mom nudged me and winked. He wasn't exactly a heartthrob.

"Are you dining in or taking away?" he inquired, and his eyes dipped to my chest.

I muttered, "Dining in, please," feeling a profound cringe welling up within me.

He smirked.

Was this guy a total weirdo?

"He's showing some interest," Mom whispered, oblivious to the inappropriate undertones. I exhaled in exasperation and guided her to a quaint pink wooden table.

"He's just being friendly," I countered in a hushed tone. It felt like an overly familiar kind of friendliness. What gave him the right to scrutinize my chest like that?

"Trust me, it's too friendly not to mean something. I've got more life experience," Mom insisted, punctuating her statement with another peculiar wink. I decided to tune her out for a moment until a waitress appeared with our drinks.

"Your food will be out soon," she informed us before departing, and I expressed my gratitude.

As she left, I couldn't help but glance past Mom's head and notice the same guy still grinning in my direction. However, his focus shifted as he leaned across the counter to chat with a solitary girl. My stomach turned at the sight.

This guy was definitely a peculiar character.

"Ready for school, sweetie?" Mom's question didn't exactly brighten my day. School was a dreaded concept, and the absence of my dear friend, Betty, who had always been my social anchor, made it even harder. Her absence left me floundering in my shell, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of the impending academic year.

"Kind of hard to say," I replied, grabbing a straw and sipping my drink to fend off the unsettling feeling knotting in my stomach. "Not really," I admitted, a cloud of dread enveloping me.

Mom reached out and squeezed my hand gently. Her reassuring smile was a beacon of comfort. "I understand. I had my fair share of school troubles, you know," she confessed, taking a sip of her coffee as I leaned closer, intrigued.

"You did?" I questioned, curious about her past struggles.

"Of course," she affirmed, setting her cup down. "You'd be surprised how many kids your age go through difficulties at school. Even those who seem like they've got it all together are often just better at hiding their struggles." She offered a comforting perspective.

I hummed in acknowledgment, my mind briefly wandering to Stephanie, who always appeared flawless. Could she have her share of school-related dilemmas?

"I just don't know what to do, Mom," I admitted, a mixture of uncertainty and frustration washing over me. I pondered the final year of high school, an anticipated time filled with expectations. I yearned to enjoy it fully – the parties, hanging out with friends, typical teenage escapades. But I found solace in my room, binge-watching Netflix, and indulging in junk food, while the days seemed to slip away.

"I've been where you are until I met Lydia in college. Things do get better, but in the meantime, you'll need to make the most of what you've got. We may not have the perfect house or the perfect family, but you're a bright girl I love deeply, and I know you'll be alright. I'm always here for you," she reassured me, her words carrying a warmth that touched my heart.

Her presence in my life was immeasurable. My gratitude for her support was boundless. She couldn't truly grasp how profoundly she had influenced my life. Without her, I'd be lost.

I eagerly reached for the brownie, the tempting scent wafting up to my nose, and took a bite. It was heavenly—

Ring.

Ring.

The ringing phone disrupted my reverie.

"Answer it, it might be Betty," Mom chimed in, urging me to pick up. I quickly wiped my hands, retrieved my phone from my bag, and read the contact name: B<3.

"I'll be back in a moment," I excused myself, strolling around a corner, away from my mom's view, and leaned against the wall while answering the call.

"Where have you been? I was starting to think you died!" I greeted Betty with concern, greeted by her laughter on the other end.

"Always the optimist," she teased with a hint of humor. I'd missed her voice.

"What can I say when you're a no-show?" I replied, my words laced with a touch of exasperation.

"You worry too much," she quipped, causing me to rock on my feet.

"I'd like to see how nonchalant you'd be if I went on a flight to another country and didn't answer my phone for two days," I said, genuine concern in my tone.

"I'd probably worry that you'd end up getting yourself arrested or something," she chuckled, and I imagined her relaxed posture on her bed.

"How is it over there then? Are people treating you right?" I inquired, dreading the answer. I wished she'd say it was terrible, it was already raining, and she was coming back. Realistically, I knew it wasn't the case. I'd been checking the UK weather forecast obsessively.

"Right now, as I look outside, it's pitch black. Jetlag's hitting me hard," she sighed, and I imagined her lying on her new bed. I wondered what her new room looked like or what view she had.

"Yeah, I forgot about the time difference," I mused, even though the dread of missing her messages while I slept crept into my thoughts. Would our friendship be affected by this time difference? Eight hours was a significant gap.

"Way ahead of you here. I didn't think it would be this challenging," she groaned, and I sympathized with her jetlag.

"Why'd you call when you should be resting?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"I just wanted to check on you. I miss you," she confessed, her voice laced with longing.

"I miss you too. It feels strange without you around," I admitted. It was weird not having my best friend by my side. Closing my eyes, a foreign smile for my thoughts, my voice was timid. "Hey, guess what?"

"What?"

"Mike asked me out on a date this Friday. We're going to a drive-in cinema," I shared, and her gasp of surprise was unmistakable.

"No way! He's been head over heels for you since he first laid eyes on your fine ass. He's obsessed!" Betty exaggerated, though I wouldn't say obsessed. He definitely had a crush on me, especially when we were kids.

We were close back then, and it was evident. We'd grown older, but he still held a flame for me. I grew, experimented with my feelings, and allowed myself to explore the complexity of my emotions. I'd shifted, moving past traditional labels, embracing the belief that if I liked someone, I liked them, regardless of gender or any other label. Simplicity had its merits.

"So, how do you feel about that? Are you into him?" Betty's curiosity shone through, but I couldn't help but feel a gnawing unease.

Did I like Mike, or had I agreed to the date out of sheer boredom and to bask in some much-needed male attention? He'd been there for me when others weren't, and that might have clouded my judgment.

"It's complicated," I admitted, nibbling on my lower lip. I didn't want to hurt his feelings. After all, he was a genuinely nice guy.

"Look, just try out the date and see how you both feel afterward. You might be surprised and enjoy his company," Betty suggested. I paced the hallway, pondering her advice.

"Yeah, okay, maybe," I said, deciding that giving the date a chance was a fair move. After all, Mike had harbored a long-standing crush on me.

But did he like me, or was it merely because our parents were close friends?

"Sure he'll treat you well. Just be careful," Betty warned, her words reverberating in my mind. I knew she cared, but Mike didn't strike me as the type to be a creep.

"Whatever! He's not like that," I countered, defending him, even though I couldn't shake the memory of the odd guy with a creepy smile from earlier.

"Yeah, you're right. Everyone's a prude," Betty teased, and I chuckled. She was right; sometimes we could be overprotective.

I couldn't deny that Mike and I had a unique history. In middle school, we, along with Betty, formed a close-knit circle of friends. He'd often hovered around me, prompting Betty to tease him. Yet, as we grew, we embarked on our individual journeys of self-discovery, exploring our feelings. My path had been fluid, sometimes leaning toward girls, sometimes boys, then finally settling on simply liking someone if the connection felt right.

"How about you?" I asked Betty. "Any new crushes, interesting people you've met?" She was miles away in another country, and I couldn't help but worry about her.

"It's a new environment over here," she sighed. "Being the American newbie makes me wonder if I'll fit in, you know? I mean, they've already established their circles, and I'm the outsider." Her voice held traces of panic.

"Trust me, they're going to love having you at your new school. You're a fantastic person; they won't resist your charm," I assured her. Her relieved sigh was audible.

"I hope so," she said, her voice a bit more optimistic.

The much-needed call soon wrapped up and I strolled back to the table where my mom sat, staring out the window with what looked to be deep thoughts circulating her mind.

"Everything all right?" Mom's concern was palpable as she raised her cup to her lips.

I felt that unsettling sensation intensify in the pit of my stomach. The questions about Dad lingered in my mind, but I decided to put them off for later.

"Everything's fine," I smiled.

After our meal and drinks, we departed from the café, heading to other shops. The sun beat down, causing my legs to turn wobbly, and my vision blurred intermittently due to the heat.

A stationary shop caught my eye, and I turned to Mom, who was engrossed in a magazine. "I'll be right back," I said and entered the store, leaving her outside with our bags, still captivated by the glossy pages filled with immaculate models.

In the store, I headed to the back and picked up an adorable white tote bag adorned with delicate pink stitching. "Perfect," I whispered to myself. Gathering other school essentials, I moved to the cashier to make my purchase.

The cashier greeted me with a warm smile, and I reciprocated, expressing my gratitude. I then exited the store and rejoined Mom, who had already delved into her second magazine, adding to the stack of publications she'd bought earlier.

"Got everything you needed?" She inquired as I linked my arm with hers, and we began our journey back to the car.

I nodded in response, and she skillfully reversed the car into the driveway upon our return. I thanked her for the day out, realizing that it might be some time before we could do this again due to our busy schedules and impending school.

Back indoors, I kicked off my shoes and trudged aimlessly up the stairs, fatigue washing over me. I flung my bag onto my desk and flopped down onto my bed with open arms.

The only thought that consumed me was the allure of sleep. Or so I thought.

A/N:

Shit's about to go DOWN!

Anyways, what do you guys think of Theo so far..?

Leave your thoughts here📍