Kiss And Blog by ALSON NOËL Read Free Book Online

once again, I just stand there, watching silently and trying to keep my face neutral, as they press little cotton skirts and tops against their skinny bodies, while complaining about how fat they are.
    And even though I’m aware that my job as the passive observer is to deny and rebut every single self-directed insult, every single insincere self-criticism, doing my part to try to rescue them from their fake self-esteem issues, I still just continue to stand there, not saying a word. Because the fact is you could shove all four of them together and still not fill a pair of size-eight pants. I mean, I aced ninth-grade algebra, which means I’m fully aware that size zero times four still equals zero. And believe me, it’s not like they don’t know that, too.
    “Do you not like this stuff?” Jaci asks, holding a yellow terry-cloth mini-dress with matching lace trim to her torso, and looking at me in a way that says, “If you answer wrong, you are so going down.”
    “Um, yeah, some of it’s okay,” I say, shrugging yet feeling pretty good about my answer, amazed at how I actually found a way to preserve my own, differing opinion, while still reserving judgment on her personal style choices.
    “So what kind of clothes do
you
like? Because I’d be very curious to see them,” she says, dropping the dress back on the rack and narrowing her eyes at me.
    I gaze at her for a moment, and then I look around, noticing how they’re all staring at me. Well, everyone but Sloane, who’s now so totally over me that her eyes are practically glued to the ground, refusing to go anywhere near my direction.
    But again, I just shrug. “I don’t know, I haven’t really looked around or anything,” I finally say.
    “Well, let’s have a look then, shall we?” Jaci fake-smiles, weaving her skinny, spray-tan arm through mine, and leading me to the other side of the store where the nonpastel, less girly pieces hang. “What about these?” She holds up a pair of cool, black, sleek, stovepipe pants. “These look like something you might like.”
    “Um, yeah, they’re pretty cool,” I say, feeling surprised that I actually do mean it, and reaching out to touch the sort of stiff-looking fabric.
    But just as my fingers are about to make contact, she squints at the price tag and quickly yanks them far out of my reach, her face dropping into a dramatic pout. “Oh, three hundred dollars. Too bad,” she says, tossing them back on the rack. “Or, how about this?” She pulls out a plain white, short-sleeved T-shirt, again going straight for the price tag. “Hmmm.” She looks at me, her lips all pressed together. “Eighty-five dollars is probably a lot more than you spend on your Mossimo’s, huh? But still, just feel that cotton, such better quality, don’t you think?”
    She pushes it toward me, practically forcing me to touch it, but this little game is getting so weird and mean, I’ve decided to stop playing.
    “Okay, well I think I’m gonna take off now,” I say, my eyes boring into Sloane, willing her to wake up, come to her senses, and follow me, or at the very least acknowledge that I’m even here.
    But when I get no response, I just turn toward the door, fully prepared to walk out, when Jaci says, “Omigod, come back here! I was
so
totally kidding!”
    So I turn around and look at them, watching as they all fake-smile at me, well, all except for Sloane who is biting down on her lower lip and gazing at me in this pleading way. And I know it sounds lame, and I know that you’ll probably hate me,but I don’t leave. I just continue hanging with them, following them from store to store, until Jaci has stolen an entire outfit and decides to call it a day.
     
    “Can I ride with you?” Sloane asks, as we head outside of Nordstrom to wait on the curb, where I told my mom to meet me.
    I just nod. I mean, I’m definitely not feeling all that happy with her right now, but still, it’s not like I’m gonna leave her stranded