𝔸𝕧𝕒

I walk up to the corner of 8th and Olive Avenue where I see Jen waiting for me outside the boutique. It's an older brick building with well-dressed mannequins in the window.

"Hey, hon!" she says, giving me a soft hug.

"Hey!" I say.

"Okay now, you've gotta help me find something that makes everyone faint when I walk in." She takes my hand and guides me inside, then introduces me to the shop owner, Tina, who turns out to be one of her cousins.

She begins perusing the racks of clothing.

"What are you going to wear?" she asks.

"To the reunion?"

"No, to Mars," she says, sticking out her tongue. "Yes, to the reunion!"

"I don't know, I'm sure I've got something that will work. I'm not exactly as stoked about this reunion as you are."

"Oh come on, you should be even more excited than me! You've got this smoking hot boyfriend, you're a successful web designer, you no longer have braces—you've got a serious glow up on your hands!"

"Well, thanks, Jen," I say with a scowl. "Here I was thinking I wasn't all that bad in high school."

"Oh, you know that's not what I mean! I just mean that you're even better than you were then."

"Nice try," I say, playfully sulking.

"Okay, fine, you were a giant dork and so was I, but everybody knows that no high schooler has ever actually been cool anyway."

She laughs as she pulls out another dress and adds it to the stack in her arms. Pretty much every single one is a variation of black or gray.

"Whoa there, Morticia," I say. "You sure you've got enough black options there?"

"Morticia?" she asks with a hand to her heart. "I think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever called me."

She laughs and continues sifting through the racks.

"You should try something!" she says. "It's no fun to do my trying-on montage alone!"

"I'm hella broke," I say. "You forget I just got out of the hospital not too long ago and lost my memory, so I'm behind on basically everything at work and I don't get paid until I complete a job."

"I can totally front you until you get paid."

"No, no way. I don't need anything new anyway."

"Oh you're no fun!" she says with a frown, skimming the remaining dresses.

After twenty minutes of browsing, Jen heads to the dressing room with an array of black dresses in hand. I take a seat on the beige tufted bench outside and begin playing a game on my phone while I wait.

"I hate this one!" she shouts from the other side of the dressing room stall. "I'm not coming out. I look like a poorly-wrapped burrito."

"Well now I want to see it even more," I say.

"Too late! Catch!" she says, as a black wad of fabric is lobbed over the stall door. I reach out just in time to catch it.

"Crap, Jen!" I say. "You gotta give me more of a warning next time!"

"Okay, then. Hanger, coming at ya!"

I ready myself just in time to catch a clear plastic hanger as it flies out of the dressing room.

"If I lose an eye in a freak hanger accident, I'm taking one of yours!" I say, looping the shoulders of the dress over the hanger and hooking it on a nearby rack.

"Sounds fair," she says, walking out in a black, high-low dress with a high halter neckline. "Too basic? I feel like it's too basic."

"Don't you already have that one?"

"Do I?" she asks, looking down. "Shit, I do."

She stomps back into the dressing room with a groan.

After a moment of shuffling, I hear a thump on the door and a heavy sigh.

"You okay in there?" I ask.

"Yeesss..." she says with a moan. "Technically."

Yeah, I'm convinced.

"Do you need help?" I ask.

"Nooo," she grumbles. "Maybe."

"What's going on?" I ask as the door cracks open.

"I'm stuck," she says, letting out another frustrated huff as I join her in the stall. Her arms are tangled above her head in a mess of black chiffon and sequins.

"Oh yeah, you're really stuck!"

"Thanks, Admiral Obvious!"

"Admiral? Don't you mean captain?"

"Nope, you got a promotion for your achievements in obviousness," she says gruffly. "Now help me!"

I laugh and attempt to tug the dress off over her head, but it refuses to budge.

"The tag said size 18," she says, straining against. "Does this look like a freaking 18 to you?"

"We'll get it off," I say, attempting to stretch the fabric stuck around her shoulder. With a quick yank, the dress loosens and I manage to pull it off her.

She drops to the floor in her bra and underwear, letting out a grunt as she sits.

"This is so frustrating!"

"What's wrong?" I ask, sitting down with her.

"I just hate trying on stuff and I..." She's interrupted by the buzzing ring of my phone. "Let me guess, Zane?"

I pull my phone out and see that it's just my pharmacy.

"Nope," I say, putting the phone on vibrate and slipping in back into my pocket. "I feel like you said that in a very pointed way. Is everything alright? Are you mad at Zane or something?"

"No," she says with a sigh. "I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me—really. I just have been thinking about this whole reunion and I just... I think of all those people we went to high school with and I still feel like a loser. I just broke up with my girlfriend, I still live in Port Charlotte, and my mom still pays my cell phone bill."

"You're not a loser, Jen," I say, scooting closer to wrap an arm around her shoulder. "You're a badass lab technician with a great life and friends and family who love you. You have a killer sense of style and you've memorized the names of every mutant in the X-Men universe, okay? Those bitches don't even know their Beast from their Banshee."

She chuckles a bit as a slight smile appears on her face.

"You're right," she says. "I just see what you and Zane have and I want that. I want to be all cuddly and sweet with someone. And then every time I talk to my mom it's all 'When are you getting married? When am I getting grandbabies?' Ava, every single time I come home my mom tries to set me up with her hairdresser's daughter."

"Why her hairdresser's daughter?" I ask.

"Because she's literally the only Chinese lesbian my mom knows," she says with a giggle. "I just... I don't want to show up at the reunion with no date. I worry everyone's going to ask and I'm just going to be like, 'Oh, yeah, that girl you saw on my Instagram, yeah she cheated on me and now I'm a single loser.'"

"Being single does not make you a loser."

"You know who says that? People with big, muscly boyfriends."

I wish Jen could see how awesome she is, but nobody ever really sees themselves through clear eyes.

"If you want, I can be your big muscly boyfriend," I say.

"No offense Ava, but you can hardly lift your own purse."

"Fine, then, see if I be your boyfriend."

She giggles before standing up and offering me a hand up as well.

"Okay, scoot outta here. Emotional chat over, I gotta get sexy-fied."

I laugh as I make my way out of the dressing room. After a moment of silence, she emerges in a low-cut silk dress with half-sleeves and a fit-and-flare silhouette. She looks like a gothic pinup girl—which is precisely Jen's aesthetic.

"Alright, I look bomb in this one," she says. "Go ahead, shower me with compliments!"

"You look like Bettie Page and Elvira had the world's hottest lesbian baby."

"Damn right, I do!" she says, posing in front of the mirror.

She does a quick twirl before heading back into the dressing room.

"Do we know who else is going to the reunion?" I ask.

"I talked to Lucas and he's coming with his boyfriend," she says. "Deb is coming too, but she doesn't have a date either, so at least I don't have to go stag while my ex has a hot date. That would be seriously awkward."

"Good point."

"Paige might be bringing her brother," she says. "Oh, oh! You know who's totally gonna be there?"

"Who?"

"You remember Dave, Alex's friend? Turns out his sister is on the alumni committee and he's helping with everything."

Dave? The guy I was on a date with whose jacket I accidentally never gave back from that night out at Pike's? The guy who Zane punched in the face? The guy whose calls I've been ignoring?

Crap.