Page 21 of Not Over You

Walking down to my car, I decide it’s a nice enough afternoon to walk and step out onto the sidewalk. I look longingly at the coffee shop as I walk by, but I don’t have time to get coffee and spend the time needed to pick out the perfect costume to impress Sam.

The minute I step inside and see how full the store is, I realize the theme is disorganization. Nothing seems to be in any kind of category, and there are props all over the floor. A large witch hat hangs over the front door, and a table of props has a large brown whip and several badges.

“Hi there, what can I get for you?” a voice, to my left, says. I can’t actually see the woman, but I move through some racks in the direction of her voice. When I see her, I’m shocked to see she’s dressed like a cat. Yes, I’m in a costume store, but the woman has gone all out.

Her face is painted, she wears a skintight black bodysuit, ears, and a tail. Her red hair is a huge mass of volume, and she sports dark makeup with long lashes.

“Welcome, I haven’t had anyone in here today.”

“Are you the owner?” I ask. Moving toward her, I trip over a giant crocodile and almost eat it. Catching myself on a rack, I take a minute to steady myself. This place has to be a fire hazard, like four times over.

“No, I just work here. I really enjoy being a different character every day. I work for minimum wage, might as well make it fun.”

“Okay, I’m looking to dress up for the Renaissance Fair. Do you have anything that might pass for that?”

“I have the perfect costumes for that,” she says excitedly. She moves past me and so deep into the racks of clothes, all I can see is her tail. I laugh to myself as it twitches back and forth as she wrestles whatever she’s getting for me out of the back.

When she comes back up for air, she’s holding two large dresses. One is green and embroidered with yellow and purple flowers. The corset looks too small for me. The other one is red with a simple vine pattern. Despite the blue one looking small, it’s really pretty, so I want to try it on.

“I’ll try this one, thank you!” I take the blue dress from her, and she leads me through a different thick stack of costumes to a little room with a bench and a mirror.

“Call me if you need help tying it up.”

“Okay,” I say, waiting for her to leave before I strip. Something about a sexy cat lady seeing my less than toned body makes me sweat.

She smiles and walks out of the dressing room.

“If you need me say, here kitty-kitty,” she tells me with a straight face, and I’m not really sure if she’s joking or not.

Either way, there is no way I’m doing that. I put on the dress, and while it isn’t perfect, I’m pleased with the fit. It makes my boobs look fantastic; I don’t even need her help with the bodice because I cinched right into it.

“Wow, spanks aren’t even necessary,” I tell my reflection, checking myself out. Feeling myself, I take a look at the price tag. It is not cheap. Surely, I can rent this.

I go out and find Miss Kitty. Twenty minutes later, I purchase a dress for far too much on my credit card that I’ll only wear one time. At least I’ll look good for Sam, maybe it will ignite some passion between us. When I get to the apartment, there’s still at least two hours before Sloan picks me up for our late lunch.

I decide to put the dress on again and fix my hair to see what it will look like up and braided. There are so many ways to do it, and I want to find the best one. Then just for fun, I put on some medieval music and move around my room.

I hear Travis come in and scramble to get changed. I don’t want him to see me dressed like this, I’m pretty sure he would make fun of me for weeks.

When I’m in regular sweats again, I go out to see him. “Hi,” I say, “how’s it going?”

“It’s going, what’s up with the braids?” He cocks his head like a cute little puppy.

I realize I forgot to take the braids all the way out when I took them down. My hair is braided in tiny braids all around my head.

“I was trying something,” I say.

“It’s cute.”

I blush, and this feels awkward, why is this awkward?

“I’m going to the Renaissance Fair with Sam this weekend,” I blurt out. Not sure why I felt the need to tell him. “You’re probably hanging out with Sydney, aren’t you?”

I don’t mean for that to sound accusatory, but it does. Truthfully, I just want to know if I should expect fishnets to come around more.

“I told you, she won’t be back,” he says, his mood clearly sour now, and I’m not sure if it’s because I mentioned Sydney or because I’m going out with Sam.

He grabs a soda from the fridge and slams the door shut, making the contents rattle inside. “Look, I’ve got some stuff to look up for the greenhouse. I’ll see you later.”

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