Page 79 of New River Gorge(ous)
Brooke
It’s the day of the dance, one day after our rafting adventure, and I can now attest that Lynette’s fun. She’s quirky and smart. Melanie and Lynette talk the entire ride to the store. Melanie hops into the front seat, and Lynette’s driving, so I’m tagging along in the back like some kind of human-shaped third wheel.
I like shopping. But it was clear from the moment Lynette and Melanie stepped foot in the door of the shop that they had very different ideas of what one wears to a dance and that I was going to be in the crosshairs of their very vocal opinions.
When we finally get to the store and are perusing the stacks of neatly folded jeans in a gradient of blue colors, Lynette broaches something. “So, you’re an influencer?” she says to Melanie, eyes wide. “Maybe I could do that.”
Melanie eyes Lynette up and down. “Content creator. And you could.” She says it in such a gracious and encouraging way that I’m surprised. It’s not what I’ve come to expect from girls who look like her. “You’d need a niche, though. What would you do?”
Lynette bites her lip, her eyes roving around until they meet mine. “I think maybe psychology and hiking. Maybe … hike the Appalachian Trail.”
“Ooh, that could work. You definitely have the aesthetic for it.”
I resist the urge to shake my head. Being an influencer sounds like a terrible idea to me. I like my digital scrapbook, but I don’t like my whole life to be out in public for the world to see.
Before I can say anything about it, Melanie lets out a squeal. “Oh. My. Gosh.” She runs to the display. “This isthe onefor you, Brooke.”
My eyes follow her to a mannequin wearing an exquisite dress. It’s chiffon with elbow-length sleeves, a dropped waistline, and the outer fabric is covered in tiny pink rosebuds while the lining is a soft taupe. The entire effect is light and airy and gorgeous.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, scanning for a dress on the hanger that matches the dress on the mannequin. No luck—this dress is not in sight.
“It’s perfect for your complexion and your height, and Beckett is going faint when he sees you in it.”
“I’d rather he didn’t,” I say, standing on my tiptoes to try to see where these beautiful dresses are hidden. “But there aren’t any here.”
Lynette and Melanie turn, surveying the store.
“What size are you?” Melanie asks.
I answer, and Melanie pulls the tag up from the mannequin’s back. “This one is your size. Problem solved.”
I blink. “Are you proposing we take the dress off the mannequin?”
Melanie smiles. “Don’t you want to wear this dress?”
Lynette giggles behind her hand. “I haven’t seen Beck be into anyone in years. I don’t think he’ll care what you wear, but this dress will definitely knock him out.”
Ugh. This dress. It’s calling to me like a siren song.
“Shouldn’t we ask a store clerk?” I ask.
But Melanie has already unzipped the back of the dress and is sliding it off the mannequin. “They want you to spend your money, not worry about their displays,” she chides.
“What if it’s not for sale?” I whisper, anxiety flaring.
Lynette holds the cuff of the dress and points to the price tag. “It is for sale, Brooke, and it is about to be yours.”
Melanie slips it off the mannequin and hands it to me. “Isn’t it indecent to leave the mannequin naked?” I ask her in a hushed voice, not totally convinced we haven’t just broken some major rule of clothing stores.
“Brooke,” Melanie says before she whips a tiny phone stand and her phone from her pocket. “Go try that dress on in the dressing room. I promise, I will make this all better.”
Lynette grabs a pair of jeans and a gauzy green button-down shirt with a high collar that ties together in a scarf. It’s not something I’d wear, but she’s confident, and who am I to judge? She’s the local.
“C’mon, Brooke,” Lynette says. “Let’s go try these things on and make sure they fit.”
We head to the dressing room, but before we duck out of the department, Melanie has already set up her phone on a small tripod and is recording herself redressing the mannequin in an entirely different dress.
“Content,” Lynette says, bobbing her head toward Melanie. “She’s good.”
