10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Beth

W e pass a ton of stores inside the mall before I realize Catherine is on a singular mission here. We're headed straight to the candy store, and then I'm guessing we'll be going to the food court for lunch before we go back to her place. Boring. I might not have a lot of spare cash to spend, but a little look around a couple of clothes stores is always fun either way.

"Don't you need to get anything?" I ask as I catch up to my fast-walking sister.

"Um, what?" she asks, slowing down now that I've distracted her from her task.

"A new skirt-suit for work, or a purse, or … something?" I ask, as we pass a store with bright orange and pink suits in the window display.

She laughs. "I'm sorry. I've never been much of a mall rat. I don't really come here unless I need something specific, and I know exactly where I'm going."

"I'm not saying we need to hang out here all day or whatever. It would just be nice to spend a little time together doing something outside of the apartment."

"You know what, you're right. I don't know what I was thinking."

Wow. That was easy.

"So, we can look in the next clothes store we pass?"

"Sure. And we can go to the arcade after lunch if you want."

"That sounds like fun."

True to her word, she leads me into the next clothing store in our path.

It's a little more her style than mine, so I suggest a few things for her closet.

She raises her eyebrows at the leopard print jacket. "Do you really see me wearing that?"

"I guess not," I admit, putting it back.

She's looking at a dark blue dress, and I realize it's Saturday today and she told me she's got something she needs to go to tonight. There's no way that something is a work thing.

"So, this thing you've got to go to later," I start, wondering if it might be with a guy.

"It's a date," she admits, putting the dress back. "I'm sorry, I should have told you, but I wasn't sure how you'd react."

"Why? What's wrong with this guy? Is he your boss or something?"

"There's nothing wrong with him," she says. "We've been dating for a while. I just didn't want to worry you, or make you think about what happened."

"I'm pretty sure you have better taste in men than I do," I tell her, smiling wryly. "So, I won't be worried, and I'm over that dumpster fire of a last date."

Right. Over it. That's why your rope burns itch every time you think about that nightmare.

It wasn't even a real date. It was only supposed to be a study date.

"It's okay to feel things about stuff," Catherine says. "I know you like to make jokes and blow it off when you're hurt, but this isn't the kind of thing you can pretend didn't happen."

"Well, I feel like an idiot for thinking a classmate was sincere about wanting to just study with me," I admit, not liking how dumb those words actually sound when I say them out loud.

How could I think that's all he wanted?

"You're not an idiot, Beth. You were tricked by someone you thought you could trust."

I shrug because I'm not sure I can agree with her.

I saw something in his eyes when he asked me to his parent's place to study, and instead of reading that glint as a warning sign, I took it as a go signal.

He wasn't boyfriend material, but as far as one-night-stands go, I guessed I could do a lot worse. Turned out, I was wrong about that.

The dumb mistake I tried to make turned into something more sinister and I know I'm lucky that he didn't actually intend to hurt me or kill me, or whatever.

"He's the asshole," Catherine says, reminding me of Secret's mom.

Leanne came to my rescue, and she kept me from going crazy while we had to sit around waiting for the police to come take our statements.

"You did nothing wrong, okay?"

"Well, aside from being so irresistible that he had to drug me and stuff me in his closet, but I don't know if I'll ever figure out how to not be psycho-bait. Maybe I'll just have to learn to live with that curse." I sigh dramatically.

"Ha ha." Catherine shakes her head. "If you feel bad, talk about it. That's all I'm saying. Don't keep it in and let it make you feel worse."

"I'm fine," I assure her. "And you should buy that dress for your date."

"I don't know," she muses, looking at it again. "I think it's too boring."

It's a little plain, I guess, but that seems to be what she usually goes for.

"Are we past the third date, or …" I start to ask, making her flush.

"We've been dating for a few months," she admits. "Just going out on dates."

"But you're sleeping together, right?"

Now, she turns a brighter shade of red. She glances around, as if she thinks the other women shopping in the store might be listening in on our conversation.

"Beth!"

"What?"

"That's not really something we should be talking about."

"I think if you can know I almost peed my pants in that closet, all because I wanted to have a one-night stand with a weirdo I wasn't even sure I liked, you can tell me if you've been having relations with your boy-toy."

"He is not a boy-toy," she mutters. "He's …"

"An actual serious boyfriend? Oh my God. Is he sleeping over tonight? Do I get to meet him?"

"He's not sleeping over," she says, keeping her voice quiet while she pretends to look at the dress again. "We don't do that."

"Oh. So, you're ace?"

"My God, Beth!"

"Sorry, I just don't get it."

"Clearly." She sighs. "We meet at a hotel, okay? We have dinner and drinks and a nice night together, and we both go home after midnight because we both have professional jobs where we need to be up early and work overtime at a moment's notice."

"So, you are knocking boots?"

"Seriously?" She looks exasperated.

I nod slowly. "Okay, sorry. I know every relationship is different. I'll stop asking questions."

"Thank God," she says.

I'll just be patient and google the crap out of the guy once she gives up his name.

My sister deserves a great guy. I might not have the best judgement in that area, hence the plan to stalk his social media accounts. If he's a dick who talks shit about women or his relationship status is ‘it's complicated', then he's not going to know what hit him.

"So, are we heading to another store? Or are you ready for lunch?"

She laughs. "You're always thinking about food."

What else can I do but shrug?

She's not wrong.

"So, lunch?"

"Lunch it is."