Miss Me Not

"Good," I said, not entirely sure. I wanted new clothes, but I also didn't want to come out looking like a Popular decked out in all trendy brands, and I definitely didn't want anything pink.

"Don't worry. We'll stay away from any clothes that are a walking endorsement for the store. Anything that we get will have the store's name discreetly hidden on the tag, where it should be," she said, linking her arm through mine.

Looking down at our linked arms, I thought about pulling away. She was obviously invading my personal space, my free zone. But I didn't pull away. Because somewhere deep down in a space I thought I'd buried, she had found one of my most secret desires. Sure, I'd always dreamed that it would be Donna who would want to walk arm and arm with me through a store, but for the moment, I almost felt normal. Almost.

Sarah released my arm once we reached the junior's section as she began to pull clothes from multiple racks that she claimed I would look gorgeous in. I felt she was being generous with her compliments, but I was relieved that she was selecting items that were in dark shades of plum, grey and brown.

"Before I get to out of control, do you have a certain budget you want to stay in? I, of course, plan on getting you a couple of things too," she said, turning to me with her arms loaded down.

"No," I said in a higher voice than I intended, horrified at the thought of her buying me anything. "Really, I don't have a budget. I have more than four years of Christmas and birthday money sitting in my checking account," I added calmly. "But thanks for the offer," I said, going for what I hoped was a normal voice.

"Honey, buying things is what I do. Much to Tim's dismay," she said with a mischievous smile. "Why don't you go try these on and we'll supplement what we're missing?"

I looked down, shocked by the armload of clothes she was holding. Supplement what we were missing? It looked like she was carrying half the store in her arms.

She laughed at my expression. "I'm a born shopper," she clarified.

"I guess so," I said, shouldering the stack she handed me. "Um, I'll be back in a while," I added, taking in the overwhelming pile.

"Oh, I was hoping you would be willing to model them for me. Dean won't let me go shopping with him anymore, and when I take the twins, it's all I can do to wrestle them into an actual outfit, let alone take the time to admire them in it," she said, looking at me hopefully. "Really, it would be a treat," she added.

I was trapped. I looked around at the handful of girls my age, mingling through the clearance racks near the dressing room. Coming out for my own mock fashion show seemed as appealing as plucking my eyes out with a spoon.

"I was thinking I could sit here," she said, indicating a chair just inside the dressing area. "Go ahead," she said, excitedly patting her knees.

I finally relented when I realized she unwittingly had given me a chance at some privacy from prying eyes. "Okay," I said, closing the door behind me.

I set the pile of clothes on the long bench that ran the perimeter of the dressing room and slowly stripped down to my bra and panties. Avoiding the mirror, I removed a long plum-colored skirt that felt soft against my skin. Pulling it on, I smoothed out the folds, enjoying the way it felt against my legs. I shrugged into the ivory shirt Sarah had paired the skirt with and fastened the small pearl-like buttons down the front. Finally working up the nerve, I looked in the mirror. My heart beat erratically as I studied my reflection. Sarah definitely had a gift at finding the right size because the clothes fit me to perfection. Too perfectly. Gone was the drab shapeless black clothing that washed out my skin and hid my body from sight. They were replaced by colors that seemed to enhance my complexion and figure. The girl staring back at me wasn't anyone I recognized. Even when I'd worn formfitting clothes before my life went to hell in a hand basket, I'd never looked like this. Of course, my clothing choices at the time had run more toward the provocative, which really translated to slutty. I looked normal, and maybe, just maybe, pretty.

I took a deep breath, realizing the significance of the moment. Once I stepped out of the dressing room, I could never go back to being a shadow. That life would be over. Pushing the lever down, I stepped into the hallway of the dressing area. I watched as Sarah's eyes grew wide as she observed me from her perch at the end of the hall. I could see her approval shining brightly in her eyes.

"Madison, you look lovely," she said, standing up in front of me. She walked around me, taking in the outfit from all angles. "You look beautiful," she added, stopping in front of me triumphantly and clapping her hands happily. "Go try on the rest," she demanded gleefully before dropping back in her seat.

Forty minutes later, we walked out of Dillard's with my checking account a great deal lighter. The salesgirl had stashed my four bags filled with clothes behind the counter for us so we wouldn't have to drag them along with us as we continued to shop the mall. With the help of Sarah, I loaded up on thin long-sleeved shirts and jeans at Aeropostale. It felt weird buying jeans that were actually my size, and not black, but I had to admit, I liked the way they fit. Pac Sun proved to be the ideal place to find a new jacket. I picked out one in hunter green that overlapped in the front and buttoned off center. Sarah claimed it made my eyes stand out. I also picked up a couple pairs of Vans and two pairs of sandals for the warmer Florida winter days. I smiled weakly at Sarah as I leaned against the counter. I was whipped, both physically and mentally. Who knew shopping could be so exhausting.

"I say a good lunch is in order," she said, smiling at me as I drooped against the counter while the girl swiped my credit card, which should have been smoking from overuse by now.

"Sounds good to me," I said, ready to give my aching feet a chance to recuperate. "I really appreciate you taking me today," I added, not looking at her as the salesgirl handed me my slip to sign.

"Nonsense, it should be me thanking you. I can't remember the last time I had such a productive shopping day."

"But you haven't bought a thing," I said, appalled at my selfishness. We'd been so focused on buying a warehouse of clothing for me. "I'm sorry," I added, feeling terrible.

"Don't be silly, dear. I can shop for me anytime. It's been nice to see you find so many lovely clothes," she said, grabbing one of the bags the salesclerk handed over.

I nodded my head in agreement. I felt all the credit went to her though. She had an excellent eye for picking out clothes that weren't only attractive, but extremely flattering.

"How about there?" Sarah said, pointing to a sit down restaurant that was separate from the food court.

"Sure," I said, not wanting to admit how long it had been since I'd eaten at a sit down restaurant. I could name the restaurant, the day and the exact time my parents had last taken me out to eat. It was May twenty-fifth, two thousand eight, the day I turned thirteen. Donna and my dad had decided to commemorate my journey into my teens by taking me to their favorite restaurant, J.R's Steakhouse. We were sitting down, eating our dinner at five 'o'clock on the nose, since church still trumped my day. My parents planned on attending their bible study at six, so I was told not to dawdle over eating if I wanted time to eat dessert before they dropped me off at home. I didn't care about their mockery of a family dinner, I had other plans that night that didn't include them, but did include a high school party I'd gotten wind of. My plans were to smoke some of the weed I'd bought off a senior, and drink my way through as much alcohol I could get my hands on. It would be months later that I would finally regret the fact that I didn't enjoy the meal more, since it was the last time we were all together as a family. It was the last time Donna would look at me without contempt or indifference. It was the last time I felt normal. A week later, my life was in shreds.

"Madison, are you okay?" Sarah asked, grabbing my arm.

"Uh, sure," I stuttered out, not sure how long I had been standing in front of the restaurant, staring at it like a goon. "I just felt a little dizzy. I guess I'm hungrier than I thought," I lied.

"How many?" the bored looking hostess asked.

"Two," Sarah answered, still holding on to my arm lightly. I could have pulled it free easily enough, but I didn't. The memories from long ago had left me feeling shaky and alone. Her touch felt oddly comforting.