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“No money for clothes right now,” Zoë said, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “Too many bills.”
“God, at least a decent pair of pants,” Lorraine said.
“Hey, slow down.”
Zoë lessened her pace and took a deep breath. Come on, she told herself, lighten up.
“There’s nothing wrong with plain old Levi’s,” she said, poking Lorraine, inviting play.
Lorraine grinned, invitation accepted, but when Zoë turned the corner to go to the Center, Lorraine held back.
“Not there,” Lorraine called after her. “Let’s be hedonistic and go to the mall.” She led the way to the bus stop.
“I’ve got to be back by seven, though. I’ve got a date with Neil.”
“Oh, gross,” Zoë said, teasing her.
Lorraine squealed in outrage right on cue.
They squabbled playfully until the bus came.
They arrived at the mall, their plan of action already mapped out. “New jeans, a few shirts, and a pair of shoes,” Lorraine had finally decided. She marched Zoë right away to the Jean Jar, then Muggles, through Finders, and on to the Edge. On the way they picked up a couple of oversized, bright sweatshirts, and an expensive cotton shirt emblazoned with one of the new fall designs. It took a lot of trying on, but Lorraine managed to find a pair of pants she liked as well. “Too good for mere mortals,” she gloated, looking at herself in the dressing-room mirror.
At first it seemed remote to Zoë, as if she were an observer from another planet, but Lorraine’s enthusiasm was hard to resist. Despite the occasional hesitation Zoë found she was getting into the spirit of things. “Let’s go to that punk store down the other end,” she said, knowing that would entice her friend.
“I don’t know, dahling,” Lorraine gushed. “I already have leopard-skin pants, shoes, shirts, underwear, and sanitary napkins.”
They went anyhow, and laughed with pleasure at the T-shirt designs, and dared each other to buy colored hair-spray. “It washes out,” Lorraine whispered. “Come on. You’d look great with a purple streak.”
“No one wears that anymore,” Zoë said. “I’d rather have a T-shirt that says EAT THE RICH.” She tried not to laugh too loud and offend the clerks, who all seemed to take their black, spiky selves very seriously.
“Here, I’ll buy you a going-away present,” Lorraine said.
Zoë’s stomach turned over. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Don’t be silly,” Lorraine said. “You have a choice between the T-shirt or this necklace here.” She pointed to an exquisite little silver crucifix on a deep red ribbon.
How can you talk about it so casually? Zoë thought. You said you didn’t want to go, now you’re buying me good-bye presents. How can you change so fast? “It seems so out of place here,” she said aloud.
“Not if you look at the people working here. They’re dripping with them. It all depends on the way you wear it.”
“I like the ribbon, but it seems like a weird combination somehow. My grandmother would have a fit.”
“Considering she lives in Europe, I doubt if she’ll see it much.”
Lorraine went to the cash register and bought the necklace, plus some green hair-dye for herself. “What the hell,” she said. “I can always threaten to show up at a business lunch wearing it, if Dad needs keeping in line.”
Outside she jabbed a camouflage-patterned box at Zoë. “Here.” For once she seemed awkward.
Zoë slipped it into her jacket pocket, blushing. Lorraine didn’t have to get her a present to be remembered. I won’t wear it, she thought. I don’t like it.
“Shoes!” Lorraine screamed like a war cry, causing several passersby to turn and stare. What a subtle way of avoiding sentiment, Zoë thought with wry amusement.
Lorraine launched into a monologue as they headed for the nearest shoe store. “I love shoe shopping, especially if it’s a salesman. They grovel at your feet, and run and fetch, and put them on for you. God, it gives me a feeling of power.”
After the final purchase they had pizza at the Roma. They recognized some kids from school there.
“Peter Ziegler,” Lorraine moaned. “I hope I don’t get something stuck between my teeth.”
