“Hey, Mom. Now that I have a job and all, I thought I’d go shopping for new school clothes.”
She pops out of the kitchen. “Oh, fun! Just give me like half an hour? I’m working on some new recipes for when I open the Airbnb.”
I hesitate. “I was thinking more like a besties shopping trip with JuneBug, you know, cause I’m getting ready to make good first impressions for my senior year, starting over and all that.” Yeah, right, Rocky. You slapped a girl in Florida, but you brought your boxing gloves across state lines and snuck them into your first real party.
Mom recovers quickly. “Yeah, right. Sure! Well, have fun with June.” Half an hour flies by and I get a text from June. “Going to be another hour.”
I head for the kitchen. “Mom. You got time to go grab a coffee with me and maybe a quick nail job at the salon?”
She drops the tea towel on the counter. “Yes! Girl time.”
We head downtown in Dad’s big truck. Our first stop is the coffee shop. The barista is a middle-aged man with a nice smile, sexy glasses, and a thoughtful face. I’m kind of in my phone, but I think mom is flirting with the coffee guy. It’s so weird.
We grab our coffees and find a table. Mom’s coffee sleeve has a phone number on it! Seriously? I’m zeroed in and fixated while she chats away, telling me about her day, her plans for the She-Shed and the backyard, all background noise…
“Mom!”
She stops midsentence, looking at me like my hair is on fire. “What is it, honey? What’s wrong?”
“Are you going to call that guy?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The barista guy, the guy who wrote his phone number on your cup that you were so shamelessly flirting with. Are you going to call him?”
She blushes! “Um, I don’t know. Would it bother you if I did?”
I almost choke on my coffee. “I don’t know, I guess not. You’re not going to turn into some, like, small town hussy, are you?”
She looks incredulous. “Hussy! Really? What kind of person do you think I am? And aren’t all you girls for woman power and feminism now, anyway?”
I try to relax and not sound as anxious I feel. “You know I want you to be happy, Mom, I do. But you’re also my mother, and I don’t want you like going out with a different guy every week or something.”
She pats my knee. “You can relax, dear. I’m just doing a little harmless flirting. I’m making up for lost time. I’m getting used to being on my own. That’s all. It feels so odd to be unencumbered. I guess I’m just enjoying being single and free.” We leave the coffee shop. Mom steals glances at the barista on the way out, and he gives her the eye as well. I suppose this is the new normal. I guess there’s nothing wrong with mom wanting to meet new people.
We head for the nail salon just down the street.
“Oh, Mom, what do I want, what do I want? I mean if I get the nail gel, it’ll last longer, but then that’s less money I have for clothes shopping.”
“Yes, this is true.”
“But if I get the basic, then there are fewer colors and it’ll probably come off as soon as I do the dishes.”
“Well, let’s see what the “basic” colors are.” Mom suggests.
“Good idea. Ooh, I like that deep scarlet.”
“Really? That dark? Well, you’re only young once. I’m going with the barely there pink.” We’re drying our fingers and toes and I get a text. It’s JuneBug.
“Where in the blooming hell are you? I’m at your house, let’s get our shopping on—$$$!”
“I’ll be there in ten. At the nail salon with my mom,” I answer.
Mom hops out at the house and JuneBug hops in. We head off in the truck. “I’m sooo excited! It’s like my first girls’ shopping trip!” I shout.
JuneBug smacks my arm. “No question, then! We’ve got to go to the city! Columbus, here we come!”
“City driving?” I take a deep breath. “What the heck. Let’s go for it! Enter the mall address in the GPS.”
JuneBug giggles. “It’s only like an hour away. Trust me. I can get you there. I’ve been there loads of times.”
We start down the road. Time flies with good conversation. “I live with my mom and my stepdad. And you’ve met my real dad. Guess he’s not a family-type guy,” JuneBug explains.
“I’m sorry, JuneBug. I kind of know what you mean. My dad was awesome, until he wasn’t. He’s still in Florida because he’s a cheating low-life.”
Her eyes are huge. “I know. You told me. I still can’t believe someone would cheat on your mother.”
I nod my head. “Thanks. I whole-heartedly agree. And it sucks, because now I feel like I’ve got trust issues, because I can’t trust my dad. It just makes it harder not to be a cynic is all.”
“Yeah. I remember. You told me. But you know not everyone is like your dad. I mean, there’s going to be cheaters, sure. But there’s also some decent guys out there, too.” We listen to the radio a while longer.
JuneBug taps her knees. “So, have you ever had like a serious boyfriend, like, have you done the deed?”
I feel stupid and inexperienced, but also annoyed at my own reaction. I clear my throat awkwardly. “That’s a personal question, JuneBug. I shouldn’t have to defend my virginity. Plus, I’ve been pretty busy with school and sports.”
“Okay, okay. Chillax. If you want me to spill tea first, just say so.”
I feel the blush creeping. “I never asked you to.”
“Well, excuse me. That’s what friends do.”
I feel stupid. “I’m sorry. I don’t have these conversations with my friends back home.”
“Then what the hell did you talk about?”
“Basketball,” I mutter, feeling dumb as ever.
She laughs. “Well, this conversation could be about balls at least.”
I slap her arm. “Do you ever think about anything appropriate?”
She drops her jaw and gives me a sideways look. “Who are you, my mother?” She makes a face at me before she gives me an ornery smile. “I had a serious boyfriend, but once I gave it up, he dumped me.”
I slap the dash. “See? That’s why you don’t have to give it up! Guys like that are such losers. There’s more to life than just that.”
“Well, it wasn’t so bad. I mean, Chris was pretty fun while it lasted. I still talk to him sometimes.”
Geez. Me and JuneBug are so different. “What kind of name is Chris anyway? He sounds like a total tool, and why would you ever talk to him again after what he did?”
JuneBug shrinks a little, and I feel bad, but I’m still annoyed. “I don’t know, Katie. I’m obviously not you. It wasn’t that big of a deal, at least not to me.”
“He totally disrespected you! It is a big deal. I mean, if I did that with a guy and he dumped me, I’d never speak to him again.” I try to make her understand.
“Alright, already. Calm down. I’m not upset. You don’t need to be.” There’s irritation in her tone. I bite my tongue so I don’t sound so judgy, which makes me feel like my mom, who I agree with 97% of the time, but so what? JuneBug turns up the radio, and it calms things down.
Before we know it, we’re at the mall. I try to contain my excitement as we pull into the parking lot. June looks over at me and laughs as she taps my dad’s truck. “Alright, let it out, cause I can see it on your face.”
“I feel like a kid in a candy store for the first time. I don’t even know where to start. I’m like completely at home in a sporting goods store, but this is like jungle land to me.”
JuneBug winks at me. “Girl. I’ve got you. I know where all the sales are. Follow my lead.” I gladly trail after JuneBug as we traipse through store after store, trying on outfit after outfit. Thank goodness JuneBug is a marathon shopper.
We stop midway through at Cinnabon to snack on sugary, buttery goodness. “Well, I’ve managed to drop about $350.00. I think I’ve got a good start on non-jock clothes,” I say as I nibble on more sugar.
She gives me a wink. “Yep. I’ve gotta say. It sure is fun spending your money.”
I refuse to feel bad. “Hey. I’ve been saving up since I started at the cupcake shop. I love my new skinny jeans and hoodies. I’m psyched about my new bras, too All I’ve ever worn are sports bras.”
JuneBug raises her eyebrow at me. “That’s just sad. No wonder you’ve never had a boyfriend.” I look down at the table. She slaps my hand. “Katie. I was kidding! You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. You know how many girls would kill for your height and those legs? Dang! It’s bizarre you don’t see what the rest of us see.”
Her words embarrass me, and I don’t know what to say. I look around awkwardly for a distraction. “Hey! Nordstrom Rack shoes. We must.”
She groans a little. “Are you serious?”
I nod my head up and down like a bobble head. “As a heart attack. I’m a total shoe hound. They are my weakness. I’ve always been the girl who salivates over shoes I don’t have the nerve to wear. That ends today. Come on!”
JuneBug follows me and all my shopping bags. She smirks as I look over every pair of shoes.
“So, what are we looking for?”
“I’m not sure exactly. I want daring and mysterious, but not quirky.” I hope I know what I’m talking about.
She looks at me and laughs. “And you think a pair of shoes are going to do this for you?
“No. I know shoes don’t define me, okay? But the right pair of shoes can do spectacular things! Haven’t you ever read Dr. Seuss, Oh the Places You’ll Go!”
She rolls her eyes at me again. “You are so weird. That’s a kid’s book, right?”
“Oh, never mind. Just help me find a pair of shoes that scream ‘I’m here and I ain’t goin’ nowhere!’”
JuneBug claps her hands once. “Right. I can do that. You want a pair of badass in yo’ face shoes. Let’s find ‘em.” We drop some serious cash in there and I come out with riding boots, buckled ankle booties, and suede wedge sneakers.
“JuneBug! I’m feelin’ so baller right now!”
“I know, right? You won’t regret the shoes. They’ll tie all your ensembles together. You can totally pull off riding boots with those legs, I’m telling you. Quit your slouching.”
I stride confidently across the imaginary catwalk. “I am Venus Williams. I am every supermodel who’s ever walked a catwalk. I am walking tall..”
I stumble over a parking curb and fall flat on my face. My bags go flying. Wow. I’m an idiot. I brace myself for JuneBug’s cutting comment about my clumsiness. I look up to see her picking up all my bags.
“You alright, there? You’ve got to get a handle on that daydreamin’, at least while you’re walking. Damn, girl.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say as I peel my lanky frame off the concrete. We pile the bags in the car. I check the mirror to make sure I didn’t scrape my face. I don’t want to make my first appearance lookin’ like I made out with the concrete.