Page 49 of Written in the Stars
“Ugly is an understatement, Elle. It offends me.”
Elle thrust the sweater at Darcy, who shrieked and backed away. “Just try it on.”
Darcy paled. “Try it on?Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t know where that’s been or who wore it. I’m not buying it, but if I did, you bet your ass I’d wash it first.”
“Gah.” Elle dropped her head back and groaned. “Oh my god. Don’t be such agrinchabout it. You can wear your camisole. You’ll be fine.”
With a huff, Darcy snatched the sweater from Elle and stomped off in the direction of the dressing room, grumbling nonsense under her breath.
Lingering outside the curtain of the dressing stall, Elle waited, snickering as Darcy muttered to herself aboutfucking sweatersand how shebetter not get bedbugs or somethingandElle better be happy.
Happy was an understatement. When Darcy flung the curtain aside and stepped out of the dressing room, Elle doubled over. Darcy was drowning in the three-sizes-too-big sweater that nearly hung down to her knees. When she lifted her arm to flip Elle off, the sweater slipped over her hand and the excess fabric made it look like she had wings. That didn’t even account for the atrocity that was the sparkling Grinch whose eyes lined up rather perfectly with Darcy’s chest.
Darcy scratched the base of her throat, her expression twisting, eyes going wide. “I’m itching. Why am I itching?”
“It’s probably psychological.” Elle shrugged. “Or you’vegotten so used to wearing fancy fabrics that polyblend gives you hives?”
“Ugh.” Darcy whipped the sweater over her head, her hair sticking up from the static. The strap of camisole slipped down her arm again, the strap of her bra following it down. Elle swallowed thickly. “You happy?” Darcy asked.
“Hmm. Oh!” Elle nodded. “I will be if you buy it.”
Darcy threw the sweater on the floor and reached for her blouse. “It’sawful.”
“It’s amazing. Youhaveto wear it.”
“You wear it if you love it so much.”
Elle already had a sweater. “It found you, Darcy. It’sfate.”
Darcy sighed. “Everyone’s going to be wearing one?”
“You’ll stick out like a sore thumb if you don’t.”
Darcy’s eyes flickered between Elle’s pouting face and the sweater pooled on the floor.
“Please. It’s a tradition.”
Her shoulders dropped. “Fine. But I’m washing it first.”
Elle couldn’t help it. She stepped forward and threw her arms around Darcy, hugging her tight. “Thank you.”
Like the first time she hugged her, Darcy stiffened. But this time, she relaxed into the embrace sooner, her own arms wrapping around Elle’s waist. She had to have felt the forceful thud of Elle’s heart, kicking against her chest, their bodies pressed together.
Darcy was the first to pull away, leaning back, her hands slipping, fingers brushing the small of Elle’s back as she dropped her arms. Their faces were close, so close Elle could’ve leaned in and pressed her lips to Darcy’s. She teetered on her feet, kneesfaltering at the soft smile Darcy sent her. “It’s... it’s fine. It’s just a sweater.”
It wasn’t just about the sweater, but Elle didn’t say that for fear of saying too much. Instead she stepped back and pointed at the rack of recent arrivals. “I’m going to look around for a minute, if you don’t mind?”
Darcy nodded and began doing up the row of tiny pearl buttons on her blouse.
Elle’s favorite thing about One Man’s Trash was that they offered a little bit of everything. Looking for antique silverware? Suits that looked like they were straight out ofSaturday Night Fever? They had housewares, costumes, knickknacks, a little something for everyone.
Darcy caught up with Elle just as she was salivating over a letterman-style jacket, only instead of being for a school or team, it had a gigantic embroidered cartoon Samantha fromBewitchedon the back.
“Brendon and I used to watch that when we were little.” Darcy bit her lip. “When we spent summers at Grandma’s, she’d let us build pillow forts in the living room and stay up late to watchBewitchedandI Dream of Jeannieon TV Land until we crashed on the floor.”
Elle traced the stitching and smiled. “When I was a kid, I was convinced I was a witch and that the rest of my family were mere mortals and that was why I was different. Never could wiggle my nose like Samantha.” Elle smiled. “You’ve got a very Samantha-ish nose, you know that?”
Darcy cupped her fingers around the tip of her nose, forehead wrinkling. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
