Chapter 15

THE CLOSEST MALL to the DuPont estate was a place called Westfield Valley Fair.

I didn't know what to expect, the name didn't sound an ounce prestigious. But as we approached the steel and glass amalgamation of a shopping mall, I slowly learned that the entire area was made for people with fat bank accounts.

I had the money, but I really preferred thrift stores. The thrift store gems that I adored, admittedly had the potential to make one look homeless. But what many don't realize is... it's never the clothes or the price of the clothes. It's the demeanor and the attitude and how proudly one wears one's rags. I missed home. I missed being the person I was.

"Are you a picky shopper?"

"Not when it comes to getting prostitute clothes."

"Why are you so willing to do this? To help me out, I mean." Elias asked, curiously. "I honestly thought you'd beg to get dropped off after knowing what I had in store for you."

I wasn't sure myself. "Well you said you were paying me. I'll probably regret this. I have a History test on Monday."

Elias let out a low whistle as I dragged him into the nearest Forever 21.

I used to shop with Mother. She was big on retail therapy (if therapy could be administered to housewives with a fear of owning out-of-season clothes); a bulk of my earlier teenage years comprised impulsive flights to New York City (on Father's private jet), I used to be able to manoeuvre Barneys with closed eyelids. Nostalgia overtook my senses as I recalled the immaculate lines of beauty counters, the pale wooden fixtures, the glass cases displaying tiny, exquisite and exorbitantly priced jewellery.

Westfield Valley Fair was clean, modern and every trophy wife's wet dream. I inhaled a breath of Californian air as I took the place in. High end boutiques dragged as far as my eyes would take me. I felt faint excitement bubbling from within - it had been such a long time.

But, with a start, I remembered that my mother had revoked my rights to a credit card. All I had was a puny debit card attached to a current savings account with just enough to sustain myself. My face darkened. Not something Elias took note of.

With reluctance, I was forced to settle on Forever 21. Which wasn't the end of the world, I tried to convince myself. Other than the reasonable prices... there really was no better place to find whorefits than this retail store - if their fishnets and mini skirts on display were anything to go by.

Elias didn't took overly impressed, but he kept silent.

We were approached by a female teenager, deferentially (and slightly ogle-y) upon absorbing the sight of the male figure beside me.

"Hi! W-What can I do for you? Looking for anything in uh, particular?"

Now of all times I found it funny how Elias was here, with me. The two of us of all people, a most unlikely pair, miles from school and about to shop for clothes.

I inclined my head to (not for the first time) take Elias in, to check him out. I sometimes fall asleep convincing myself that I'd someday become desensitized to how weak Elias made my knees. It was easier to maintain my composure in Chemistry class, or when I tried not to take in our situation. But, standing in Forever 21 with some blonde teenager blatantly checking Elias out... it felt hard to dispel feelings of self achievement. Or the modicum of pride that plagued and clouded all five senses.

Elias looked delectable in form fitting, gray T-shirt and branded jeans. He, after an extended silence from my end, looked down and right into my eyes. My knees became jelly.

He laughed and it dragged me out of my reverie. "Andrea? You there?"

I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks color. "Sorry, just... I haven't gone shopping in a very long time."

"I can tell," Elias said under his breath. Something that I wasn't sure how to interpret.

Turning to face the girl now, Elias said, "we're just going to look around, thanks."

Her entire face reddened. She told us she would be at the jeans section if we needed her, before excusing herself.

"Why do you do this to girls?" I asked Elias.

He returned a smug expression. "Do what?"

Bastard knew he was physically attractive. I gave him a face, one that he returned with an innocent smile. Imagine growing up so hot that you're able to deflect compliments this expertly.

"So," I drew my hands together, forcing my eyes to stare anywhere but at his hazel irises. "Time to pile up on prostitute clothes. I'll cover the first three rows, you can do the next three. I'm like, a size 4, by the way."

Elias nodded, determined. "On the count of three."

We parted separate ways after I gave the word.

The next twenty minutes was spent in selecting the skimpiest female outfits and piling them on our respective arms. We weren't the only customers in the retail store, we certainly received odd looks. But it didn't matter because Elias looked like he was having fun, and I in turn derived enjoyment (and amusement) watching the French hunk grab fishnets and crop tops from hangers.

We met at the end of the aisle. I was breathless for some reason.

He broke into a grin, a distinct one from his generic panty-dropping smile, as he made his way over. I gaped at how much clothing he had gathered.

"Is that all?" He tsk-ed, scrutinizing the skimpy variety of lace and net in my hands. "I thought you'd have more in you. Even I have a bigger pile than you."

"Okay Elias, it wasn't a competition," I said flatly.

"Are you gonna try it on - " he cut himself off as he caught sight of the clock behind me. "Never mind, we are running very short on time." He declared as he made a beeline to the counter.

Swear to God all three girls behind the counter began salivating simultaneously. One of them adjusted her boobs and ran a hand through her hair. She pushed her partner aside as she put on a flirtatious expression, ready to check Elias's clothes out.

When I was done being amused by the sight before my eyes, it dawned upon my slightly slow brain that Elias was going to... buy all these on grounds that we were short on time. My jaws dropped.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

He gave me a sideways glance. "What... Do you want to try everything out?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, unsure. "I have a killer bod but I doubt everything is going to fit perfectly. And I, uh... don't have that much money to pay for all of these."

"What are you saying," Elias shot back, amused. "Just put the clothes down, I got this."

My mouth parted, ready to fire back with unplanned verbiage. But he'd whipped out his card and before I could protest, he grabbed my arm and unloaded everything on the counter.

The girls behind the counter, all three, had saucer wide eyes. Because truly Elias had taken what appeared to be clothing from every single rack.

"I don't need that much clothes, Elias..."

"It's okay, we can donate them to the church if they don't fit. It's really okay," Elias assured me as the girl began scanning the items of clothing.

The price racked up to… three figures.

"See? It's nothing, don't worry," Elias continued to reassure. "This is the least I can do for forcing you into this uh, sacrilege. C'mon, don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

He didn't respond, just ruffled the hair at the top of my head.

It reminded me strangely of my father. I wasn't exactly born rich. I had memories of the textbook, white picket fence home, rocking chair on patio with confectionary-baking Grandmother childhood. My father wasn't always a workaholic, just lately - with the threat of China's emerging Alipay. If one told my ten year old self that my father would be doing this well today, my ten year old self wouldn't believe it.

The transition was easier than expected. I wasn't a demanding daughter, neither a difficult child. Not until much later, but that would be a different story. I grew up understanding that my parents needed to work to survive. I didn't even question when my father's working objectives went from survival or profit maximizing.

I sighed right here at Forever 21, in front of the trio who were wet simply being in Elias's presence. Pretty sure one of them was trying to Snapchat Elias - she wasn't even being discrete. But Elias didn't seem to mind, he was the type of person to look candidly gorgeous.

Elias poked me, on my shoulder. I felt his finger through my long sleeved sweater.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Is it about tonight? You don't have to do it if you don't want to. I don't want to pressure you."

"No, it's just..."

I was cut off by one of the girls behind the counter.

"If she won't have sex with you, I would," she jutted her boobs out and placed a hand on her hips.

Elias laughed it off expertly, it made me wonder exactly how often girls came onto him. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head, smile never quite leaving his lips.

"We're not talking about sex here," Elias told the cashier. "Sorry, we'll leave now."

With that said, warmth invaded my lower back, gently leading me out of the retail store.

One glance at my phone's screen told me we had just enough time to drive back, decide what to wear before meeting the people who raised Elias. I felt strangely nervous.

"Like I said, it's not too late to pull out," Elias started, as we made our way to his car. "Our goal here is for you to feel comfortable enough to execute the role of a terrible fiancee."

"Why didn't you just hire a prostitute?"

"My parents aren't dumb," he said easily. "I need to... make it believable."

"Are you sure this - all of this - isn't an excuse to spend more time with me?" I teased jokingly.

Elias took it in with an amused smile, he was so smooth he was never speechless. "If I wanted that, I would have said it straight up. I'm not one to beat around the bush, Andrea."

"I still don't understand. You hardly know me, so what the fuck gave you the idea to bring me home? What if I robbed you?" I asked, genuinely curious. "What if... they actually like me?"

He just let out this breath of air. "Gut feeling. I don't know how to explain without uh, sounding mental. So yeah, I'm just going to say I had a gut feeling that you'd be good at acting."

"Did you also have a gut feeling I'd be good in bed?"

"What?" He laughed.

I jumped when his hands touched mine. But the moment ended too soon, he only wanted to take the shopping bags I was carrying. We were eliciting stares, I couldn't tell if it was because he was carrying eight Forever 21 bags, or because he was simply Adonis in physical form.

Perhaps both.

"Hey, so, I had fun," Elias said as we approached his car. It was a flashier, red Porsche this time.

"Shopping is always fun for people with the money," I said in return.

He went, "Ha," before he deigned to continue with an explanation. "I just, never usually enjoy myself when I shop with girls. Man, they're so picky and all I do is wait for them."

"That's because those trips didn't have a participatory element," I explained. "This time you got to pick clothes with me, that's why it wasn't boring."

"You're really wise, you know that?" Elias said seriously. "You kinda remind me of my sister."

"And you remind me of my father," I sighed.

His face lit up mischievously.

"Don't go there." I warned.