Page 80 of The Hate We Breathe
Mads doesn’t say a word and Juliet keeps pace with me as I rush the two of them toward the sliding doors that spit us out into the parking lot. The second the glass closes behind us, the madness dulls into something I can finally breathe through. I exhale, long and heavy, feeling the sting of winter air in my chest. Juliet doesn’t let go of my hand, her grip tight, almost stubborn, but I release Mads as soon as we’re not in the center of a crush of psycho women.
The silence follows us to the car, thick and scratchy at the back of my neck. I glance at Mads, whose head is turned down and arms are wrapped almost protectively around her form, then to Juliet, whose shoulders are rigid and face pinched.
When we reach the car, Mads sinks into the back, her chin tucked down, and Juliet slides into the passenger seat without a word. I get into the driver’s seat just as Madison speaks.
“I’m sorry, guys. I didn’t mean for this to…” In the rearview mirror, I watch her curl in on herself even more. “This was supposed to be… fun. And I ruined it.” Her voice and tone are both flat and desolate.
Juliet twists in her seat, her face softening. “Hey. No, you didn’t. That place was insane.”
I snort. Talk about an understatement. Juliet’s eyes flash to me and she balls her hand up, punching me in the shoulder. I gape at her.
What the hell did I do?I mouth the words, not wanting Mads to realize we’re fighting up front as the other girl wallows in what’s obviously a moment of pity or insecurity.
Juliet’s lips press together as she glares at me and shakes her head.Dumbass,she mouths the word at me before focusing her attention on her friend. I rub my arm. Fucking women. I’ll never understand them.
“I just… I don’t know where else to go,” Mads says. Juliet remains silent. One look at her face and I can guess why—she hasn’t exactly been the shopping queen since her family lost all of their money. The stores she used to frequent are far too expensive now and even though the guys and I are pretty set on paying for whatever dress she wants, I know my girl well enough that she won’t even think about getting a dress worth several hundred dollars.
I thump my head back against the seat and then pull out my cell. There’s only one woman I’d trust to help us now—besides, we’re in Tangier. If anyone knows this turf like the back of her rich, pale hand, it’s Ma-Ri.
Instead of saying as much to the girls in case it doesn’t work out, I shoot off a quick message, praying the old woman has her cell phone on her. Juliet and Mads are quietly chatting back and forth, trying to come up with alternative ideas as I tap my fingers restlessly on the steering wheel.
Come on, Ma-Ri,I mentally pray.Don’t fail me now.
Either the universe is smiling down on me or the old woman actually has her phone on her for a change, because she texts back within five minutes. Her message makes me grin. I look up the address she sends and realize I know the area and won’t need GPS.
“Buckle up, ladies,” I say, interrupting whatever they’d been saying.
Juliet swings her head my way. “What?”
“Plan B.” I toss my phone into the cupholder and start the car. “I’ve got the perfect place.” Well, Ma-Ri does, but I’m the one driving them there, so it’s kind of like my idea too.
In the rearview mirror, Mads lifts her head and I realize she’d been crying.Oh, thank fuck Ma-Ri answered,I think.I do not do well with crying chicks.
Juliet flips around and reaches for the seat belt as I pull back out onto the main road and Madison scrambles for her own. My lips twitch in amusement.
Fifteen minutes later, I slow the car and turn off into an older plaza. A few of the storefronts are boarded up with ‘for rent’ signs posted in their windows. The store we’re looking for is towards the end, away from the road. It’s a narrow boutique wedged between a laundromat and a shuttered secondhand bookstore.
“Gio?” Juliet’s eyes look over the building skeptically and I shake my head as I park and turn off the vehicle.
I shoot her and Mads a reassuring smile. “Let’s go,” I say as we exit the car and head towards the shop that only has one word on its faded blue-and-white sign that readsSunny’s.
Inside, the shop smells heavily of potpourri. I grimace at the thick layer of dust coating the windows, almost giving them a gray lining that dulls the sunlight outside.
“This isn’t a dress shop,” Juliet says, frowning. She’s not wrong. The store feels more like stepping into someone’s attic—lace spilling from racks, sequins catching the dim light, velvet draped over headless mannequins, and shelves of antique bronze kitchenwares.
“It’s got dresses,” I say defensively, gesturing to a few of the racks to the right shoved between two large wooden furniture pieces. Pink and blue tulle sticks out from one of them, and Juliet turns, arching a brow my way.
“This is an antique store,” Mads says, though she doesn’t sound upset by the fact as she drifts forward, in front of Juliet and me. She fingers a lacy dress hanging from one of the racks.
“Antiques?” a creaky feminine voice pipes up. “Ha! This is the shop of dreams!”
A tall, voluptuous woman rounds the corner of a dusty china cabinet filled to the brim with glass knickknack as she finishes her sentence. The second I catch sight of her and her cat-eye glasses and the red-and-white polka-dot dress that looks like it jumped straight out of a 50s ad, I know exactly why Ma-Ri sent us here.
“Oh, hello,” Madison says brightly. “Are you the owner?”
The woman smiles, revealing a shining silver tooth at the front of her mouth. “Yes, I am, young lady.” She shoves her palm out in Madison’s direction. “Sunny Hwang, lovely to meet you. How can I help you today?”
Juliet sidles up next to me as Madison explains what we’re here for to the woman. “Ma-Ri?” she asks quietly.
