Page 48 of Written in the Stars
“Act like you like me?” Elle gave an awkward laugh, avoiding Darcy’s eyes. “You’ve got the sort of job and vibe that screamsI’ve got my shit together, so if my family thinks you’re into me and hears you talk about how awesome you think I am, maybe they’ll see me in a different light without me having to, you know,doanything.”
Darcy nodded. “I can do that.”
Elle’s chest squeezed, wishing Darcy didn’t have toactlike she liked her.
“Anything else I should know, or is it more of a learn-as-you-go thing?”
Ha. Elle was still learning how to navigate the waters of formal family dinners.
“If it’s any consolation, you’ll probably fit in with my family better than me.”
***
Despite the conventional wisdom that said no one had any business eating something larger than their head, they both managed to polish off their burgers and a shared order of nori fries.
Back on the street, Elle crossed her arms against the chilland smiled at Darcy who’d been smart enough to wear a coat. Elle had been too caught off guard by Darcy’s unexpected visit to think to grab her jacket. “Well. This was fun.”
Darcy nodded. “It was. Thanks for the food. Are you sure you won’t let me pay for mine?”
Elle waved her off. “My treat.”
She wasn’t sure if they were standing there on the street corner because the light was red, or for some other reason. “All right. Well—”
“I’ll walk with you,” Darcy blurted. “It’s nice out.”
It wasfreezing, but okay. Elle wouldn’t argue. The company was nice.
Elle led them two blocks south, pausing at the corner of Pike and Broadway, waiting for the light. She peeked around the corner, checking for oncoming traffic. The neon sign hanging in the window on the next block caught her eye. She grabbed Darcy’s wrist and tugged her in the new direction.
“What? Where are we going? Your apartment’s that way.”
“Change of plans,” she said, stopping in front of a store with the signONE MAN’S TRASH. TheTin trash was burned out, turning the store intoONE MAN’S RASH, which made Elle chuckle under her breath. “This is my favorite thrift store.”
“And we’re here because...?” Darcy goggled at the window display of half-dressed mannequins posed to look as if they were having an orgy.
“I forgot about my favorite Thanksgiving tradition. It’s the only thing my family does that’sodd, if you can even call it that.” Elle reached for the handle on the front door, eager to step inside out of the cold. “We all wear the tackiest uglyChristmas sweaters we can find. We’ve been doing it for years. Youhaveto wear one.”
Darcy didn’t argue, though she did pull a face, lips twisting like she was beginning to regret this whole plan, if she didn’t already.
The inside of the store smelled like fabric softener and Lysol, and beneath that, mothballs and body odor, which Elle tried hard to ignore. Detouring past the front display of puffer jackets, Elle tugged Darcy deeper into the store where they kept their funkier offerings.
“Jesus.” Darcy tugged on a poofy, crinoline prom dress shoved between an old D.A.R.E shirt and a leather motorcycle jacket. “There’s no rhyme or reason to any of this. How do you find anything in here?”
“You don’t. Not really. Stuff tends to find you.”
“Like that doesn’t sound ominous.” Darcy set the dress back on the rack. The bar holding the hangers made a low creak before the entire rack collapsed in on itself. “Shit.”
Darcy bent down, reaching to clean up the mess. Something green and sparkly in the pile caught Elle’s eye. “Wait, hold up.”
She grabbed the item in question, sure enough, a sweater. And not just any sweater, but a delightfully hideous knitted monstrosity with a sequined Grinch.
Darcy recoiled, elbow knocking into the rack of shoes. “Ow.No. Absolutely not. Not even if you paid me.”
Elle gave her what she hoped was a convincing pout, pulling out all the stops, widening her eyes and jutting out her bottom lip. “I told you—things find you in here.”
“Nope.” Darcy shook her head. “That isodious.”
“All the better! It’s supposed to be ugly.”
