“That sounds fine,” I said. After all, Trina did have amazing, thick, shiny waves of hair so I trusted her opinion. The hairdresser at the station next to ours had blue stripes in her hair so I added quickly, “Just blond.”
“I’ll hold your glasses,” Trina said, taking them off of me before I could answer.
My hands were trapped beneath a long vinyl cape so I was too slow to stop her. “I won’t be able to see what’s going on.”
“It will be a fun surprise.”
There was lots of hair pulling and strong-smelling chemicals and a big sink where my hair was washed. There was no way for me to tell how long it took, but it felt like hours before the blow-dryer and straightener were put away, and Trina handed me back my glasses.
I slipped them on and Olivia swiveled the chair until I was facing the mirror. I let out a small gasp. My hair was even lighter than I’d imagined it would be, which made my skin seem brighter somehow. Soft layers hung around my face, highlighting my cheekbones. I turned from side to side.
“Does she like it?” Olivia asked Trina.
“Yes, I do,” I answered for myself. It would take some getting used to, but I loved it. Not only did it look amazing, but it felt like the start of a new me. The mature version of me. I could picture myself walking through the halls at UCLA, more confident than ever.
I kept looking at myself in the rearview mirror as I drove.
“Do you want to really go shopping? Like big-time?” Trina asked.
“There’s big-time shopping?”
“Of course there is. Rodeo Drive.”
“Like Beverly Hills, Rodeo Drive?”
“Is there another? I mean, come on. Ralph Lauren, Harry Winston, Louis Vuitton, Stuart Weitzman all on one street.”
“That’s a lot of men.”
Trina looked at me and then we both laughed.
“Why do so many men design for women, anyway?” I asked.
“Who cares? They do it well. What do you think?”
“I think that it’s already five o’clock and there will be tons of traffic and it will take two hours to get there.”
Trina pouted. “But it will only take us an hour to get back without traffic. That gives us a couple hours. That’s all we need.”
L.A. would be crowded and full of tourists. All the one-way streets made it highly probable that I’d get lost. But I’d never been to Rodeo Drive before. And I could practically hear Blaire and Elise whining about all the aforementioned things if I were to suggest a shopping spree there. So I said to Trina, “Why not? Let’s go.”
She raised her hands in the air, hitting the roof of the car, and squealed.
By the time we got to Rodeo Drive, the sun had set. The palm trees lining the street of awning-covered buildings glowed green in the streetlights. The storefronts, with their big windows, glowed even brighter.
“If you turn up ahead, there’s valet parking,” Trina instructed.
I did and handed the keys over to some kid about my age. He looked at me and then my car and raised his eyebrows.
“Thanks,” I said as he climbed in and shut the door.
“Are you having a hard time watching someone else drive your baby?” Trina asked. I realized I was staring at the taillights as the valet drove my car into the garage.
“Maybe a little.”
“Do me a favor,” she said as we walked toward the bright big windows of the first store. “Just don’t look at the price tags. Find what you like, what looks good on your body, and don’t worry about cost. These clothes will last you three times as long as anything you own now. There’s a reason Pretty Woman shopped here. It’s about quality.”
“Pretty Woman? As in the character in a movie?”
“You know what I mean. There’s a reason they depicted her shopping here.”
I nodded and Trina opened the door. A wave of cool, fresh, scented air hit me in the face. Apparently even the air was expensive on this street.
I stopped to look at the first rack. I had heard what Trina had said about the price tags, I had even agreed, but I couldn’t help myself. A thousand dollars for a pair of jeans?
“Ooh, those will look amazing on you,” Trina said, and pulled them off the rack. A woman was standing off to the left and Trina immediately handed her the jeans. She had done that with half a dozen things so far and I assumed the lady was whisking the clothes away to a dressing room somewhere.
Just don’t think about it, I told myself. I needed new clothes. I was making up for the years and years of only buying the cheapest things possible. And besides, like I had told Blaire, I could survive the rest of my life on even a third of what I’d won. I had money to spend. I smiled. I had money to spend.
And so I did. I tried on everything I liked—silky shirts and soft dresses and shiny shoes. There were so many textures that I had never felt before in my life. Like cashmere. I’d heard about it but never felt it. I ran a sweater along my cheek.
Apparently the lady who had been taking our clothes to our individual dressing rooms was like our personal assistant. Because she would tug on the waist of each pair of pants Trina or I would try on, fold up hems that were slightly too long. Then she’d write in a little book she held.
“What are you writing?” I finally asked after she did the same to the third shirt.
“Just the notes for alterations,” she said.
“Alterations?”
“So they fit you perfectly.”
“Can they be ready by Friday afternoon?” Trina asked, like she did this often.
“Of course,” the lady said.
“Is there any way we can have them delivered to our houses?”
“Yes, we can work that out,” our assistant said.
“Perfect,” Trina responded.
When we took our purchases to the register, I wondered if I was paying for everything. But Trina took out her wallet and bought her own things. I tried not to cringe at my total. It was more money than I’d spent on clothes in my life let alone in one hour.
The rest of the evening played out the same as we went to several other stores. We bought purses and jewelry, belts, shoes, and bags. I wasn’t even sure how much I’d spent by the time we were done, but I knew I was exhausted.
“Shopping is hard work,” I said.
Trina laughed. “But fun, right?”
“Yes. So fun.” I was surprised by just how much fun I’d had.
“I can’t wait for everyone to see you on Friday. They’re going to die.”
I looked down at myself, my old clothes back on. She was right, this was going to be a big change.
“Do you have contacts?” Trina asked.
I pushed my glasses up my nose. “Yeah. I just never wear them.”
“I think your new look will go well with contacts.”
She had a point there. “You may be right.”
A different valet guy brought my car around and seeing it again made me realize I had been worried about it. When you spend that much on a car, it’s hard to trust other people with it. Trina handed the guy a folded bill.
“Thanks,” I said to her, realizing I needed to figure out the tipping norms. I’d research it.
The drive home was quiet. So quiet I heard my phone buzz in my purse. I hadn’t checked it all day, I realized. I hoped my parents weren’t trying to get ahold of me.
I didn’t take out my phone until I’d arrived at my house and said good-bye to Trina. As I watched her drive off in her own car, I checked the text.
It wasn’t my parents.
Where are you?!?!
It was Blaire. My mind raced. Where was I supposed to be? Had I forgotten something? It took me several minutes to remember. Study group. Crap.
I opened my front door and yelled in, “Mom, I’m home but now I’m not again. I have study group!”
“But it’s already after ten!” she yelled back.
“I’ll be home by curfew.” Curfew was eleven on weeknights. The only time I’d ever stayed out until curfew was for study group.
I pulled the door closed and rushed back to my car as fast as I could. I’d unload my purchases later. I sped to Blaire’s house.