Parking was a nightmare and this place is a zoo. I normally love the Garden State Plaza—it's one of the few malls I can stomach—but not when I'm pressed for time and certainly not on a Saturday. Shay Chic isn't that far from here, but I don't normally work on the weekend and I sure as hell don't come to Paramus when I do. What was I thinking to agree to this?

The mall is humongous, but I have a pretty decent grasp of the layout of this place. I figured I may as well do some shopping while I'm here, so I parked in a lot far from my actual destination. I had plenty of time to kill before I'd need to be back home for Cooper's birthday, but those hours somehow flew right by.

So, now here I am with shopping bags up to my elbows, trying to weave my way through the throng of people out for an afternoon stroll.

I finally make it to the dress shop, sweaty and exhausted, but with just enough time left to get measured for this flipping gown. I drop my armload of loot onto a satin bench and ask the nearest salesgirl for help. "Excuse me. I'm supposed to get measured for a bridesmaid gown?"

The accommodating twenty-something stops rearranging a rack of dresses to extend a toothy smile as she practically skips behind the counter. She starts tapping on the computer screen inquiring cheerfully, "Certainly. What's the bride's name?"

I try not to throw up on Princess Perkypants and answer, "Chadwick. Livia."

Taptaptap. "Oh. You must be Shana!"

For a split second, I think Perky is psychic. Then it dawns on me that I must be the only name on that list without measurements next to it. Duh.

I try to sound chipper as I answer, "Yep, that's me," before realizing that I just can't be bothered. This chick's energy is just draining the last of mine. I have a feeling this would be the case even without the shopping marathon I've just completed. So, I leave the chirpiness to the bubbly salesgirl while I follow her wearily to a dressing room.

The measuring only takes a few minutes, however, so that's good. At least I won't have to run all the way across the entire mall in order to make it back to my car in sufficient time. I get my clothes back on and meet Her Royal Perkiness at the counter to settle up. "So, what's the damage?"

She's got an order pad between us and she alternates between scribbling on that and tapping on the computer. She starts to whistle and I'm dead certain some little birds at this very moment are winging their way from the enchanted forest en route to join in. I'd better get while the getting's good.

Perky ceases her tune in order to speak. "Well, you're in luck. We only had a few of these gowns left, so we marked them down considerably. We only have two unclaimed, and one of them is a size eight!"

Just out of curiosity, I ask, "What would have happened if I came in here and I was a big fatty?"

Still effervescent, she answers, "We can still get this gown, we're just not stocking it anymore. We could have ordered one for you from the design house. You wouldn't have gotten it at the sale price, but thankfully, it's not an issue!"

Okay. So it's not like I'm some big advocate for the overweight or anything, but that just seems kinda wrong to me. Skinny people get the better end of the deal their whole life. Now they get better retail pricing, too? And let's just say I had a few extra burritos this week, inching my ass up into the double-digit sizing.

So I ask, "What if I wasn't a size eight? Would I really have had to pay triple what the other bridesmaids were paying for some dress I was only going to be wearing for one day?"

Maybe I asked a little too aggressively or something, because Princess Perkypants has officially deflated. I guess I'm her kryptonite. She stammers out, "But your gown is only sixty-five dollars—"

"Yeah, no. Whatever. That's fine. Uh, here." I'd been rifling through my wallet until coming up with the right credit card, the one I know still has a few hundred left on it. We complete the transaction and I gather up all my shopping bags from the bench. I start to walk out, but turn when I realize it's probably rude not to at least say goodbye. Perky is just standing there, looking at me blankly. I can't get a read on her expression. "What?" I finally ask.

She looks anxious. "Don't you... Don't you want to see the gown?"

Oh.

"Oh, yeah. Yes, sure." I do a head shake which I hope translates into a forehead smack. I can't pull off a V8 move when my arms are weighed down with all these bags.

The salesgirl slips an emaciated arm into a rack near the counter and comes out with a blush-colored organza gown, which, I have to admit, is very delicate and pretty. With a good tan, it will look fantastic on me. I can tell Perky is waiting on my reaction, so I offer, "Oh. It's nice, I guess. Thanks," before turning back toward the exit.

Perky's voice is a weak yell behind me. "Miss? Shana, um Miss Benedict?"

Again, I turn to see what she wants. God, I just want to be done with this already.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to mention this earlier, but the other bridesmaids all ordered their shoes with us. We were waiting to see if you were going to order through us too so that we could put them all in the same dye lot."

Will I never get out of this godforsaken store? I see a pair of heels in the window display of the shop and point a bag-laden arm in their direction. "Those." Before Perky can get out the words, "Are you sure?" I cut her off and say, "Yes, those are fine. They'll be fine. You have my credit card number already; you can just charge them on that. Size seven!" 

I offer a thank you over my shoulder as an afterthought on my way out of the store, glad that this mall nightmare has come to an end.

*** BITCH will eventually be published for sale as a full-length book, so I can't share more than the first 50% here on Wattpad. There are about four more chapters to go before we reach that official halfway mark, however, so our journey isn't over yet. They just need tweaking before I can post them, so please allow some time for me to get them perfect. I'm writing as fast as I can. 😁

After that, the second half of BITCH will be told entirely from Livia's POV. That part of the manuscript is still very rough right now, and it will be some time before it's ready to be seen. 

So. The best way to find out when I write "The End" is to sign up for my mailing list:

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In the meantime, I hope you'll give this story some upvotes, share it with your friends, and please feel free to drop a comment or two. I always do my best to write back!

Thanks for reading! ***