The Art of Life (24 page)

               
“Isabelle, relax and get in the
car.”

               
Pleading, I yell, “Jeremy!”

               
He turns back around and mocks
me.
 
“JEREMY!”

               
“That isn’t funny,” I snap,
going to the driver’s door.
 
“I can’t
believe you are making me do this.”

               
“You need the practice,” he
states matter-of-factly.
 
I climb in the
car and slam the door.
 
“Hey!
 
Be nice to my car!
 
It’s not its fault that you are scared.”

               
My eyes just glare at him.
 
“I am not scared, just nervous.”

               
“Don’t be,” Jeremy
reassures.
 
“You know how to do
this.
 
You will be fine.”

               
Now, I am mighty angry.
 
I push in the clutch and start the car.
 
Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I
peel out from the curb.
 
Jeremy snaps his
attention to me.
 
I just smile, and shift
into second and then third.
 
“Worried
yet?” I ask.

               
“Slow down Isabelle,” Jeremy
retorts sternly.
 
“You don’t want to
purposefully crash.”

               
“I thought you wanted me to
practice!” I exclaim.

               
Putting his hand on my leg,
Jeremy says, “I promise to teach you how to drag race in one of these, just not
today.
 
Slow down.”

               
The touch of his hand so high on
my leg makes me tense up.
 
I am
experiencing a whole lot of different signs of affection from him today.
 
What was that kiss about anyway?
  
It was so weird.
 
Why would he want to kiss me again?
 
Practice, I guess, and wow it was awesome and
felt so good.
 
It still isn’t my first
real kiss, as Jeremy calls it.
 
Jeremy is
like a practice run, right?

               
“Okay, you need to turn right
here and then left into those apartment complexes,” he says, pointing down the
side road.
 
The task of driving really
slow through the apartment buildings is proving to be a daunting task.
 

               
I keep killing the engine.
 
Slamming my hand down after the third time, I
sigh.
 
“You need to drive now.
 
I obviously can’t do it.”

               
“Isabelle,
hon
,
you have to practice.
 
You are way beyond
where you should be driving this car.
 
Going this slow in my car is not easy.
 
Even I kill the engine sometimes.
 
Relax, we are here anyway.
 
See,”
Jeremy says, “there she comes.”

               
My eyes watch as a cute girl
comes down some steps.
 
She is pretty but
in that girl next door sort of way.
 
Her
smile is beautiful though and she looks really happy.
 
Jeremy hops out and holds the door open for
her.
 
She climbs in the backseat and
says, “Hi, my name is Cassandra.
 
I don’t
believe we have met.”

               
“Hi, I am Isabelle.
 
I am one of Jeremy’s friends.
 
He is helping me out right now.”

               
Jeremy climbs back in and says,
“Let’s head to the mall.”

               
Taking a deep breath, I start
the car.
 
As I drive, Cassandra leans
forward.
 
“So what are we doing?”

               
“Well, Isabelle here wants to
buy some new clothes,” Jeremy states.

               
“Oh fun!” Cassandra shouts.
 
“I do love shopping for clothes!

               
Frowning, I say, “It’s a little
more than that.
 
I need assistance.
 
I have never gone SHOPPING, so to speak.
 
I have bought clothes, but have no style
sense.
 
So, I need some desperate help.”

               
“Sweetie, I definitely can do
that,” Cassandra replies, with a smile.
 
“You will be a diva when I am done with you.”

               
That makes me shake my head
vigorously.
 
“I don’t want to be over the
top, just nice and normal.”

               
“So, what do you usually wear?”
Cassandra asks.

               
“You are looking at it,” I
retort.

               
I can see Cassandra in the
rearview mirror.
 
She bites her lip and
looks at my outfit.
 
“Okay,” she finally
says.
 
“Do you wear any skirts or
dresses?”

               
“No, but I don’t own any
either.”

               
“Do you wear anything more
fitted than what you are wearing?” She asks.

               
“See, I don’t know what would
look good on me, so I don’t buy anything like that,” I reply.

               
Jeremy finally pipes in with,
“She needs something more fashionable.
 
No offense Izzy.”

               
“None taken, I agree with you,”
I snort.
 
“Boy, do I agree with you.”

               
“If you want to be more
feminine, you need at least a few skirts and dresses,” Cassandra says.
 
“We will get you what you need.”

               
For the rest of the car ride,
Jeremy and Cassandra talk about people I don’t know.
 
It doesn’t bother me because I need to
concentrate on driving.
 
When we get to
the mall, I stop the car.
 
“You seriously
need to park Jeremy.”

               
“Yeah,” he agrees with me.
 
“I don’t need you to be damaging anyone’s
car.”
 
He hops out of the door, and I put
the emergency brake on.
 
Cassandra pushes
the chair forward and follows Jeremy out of the car.
 
He comes around and opens the door for
me.
 
“You did a great job.”

               
“Thanks,” I reply proudly.

               
After he gets in and starts to
drive forward, Cassandra comes up next to me.
 
“Are you two dating?”

               
“No!” I exclaim.
 
“Why is that the first question everyone
comes up with?
 
Look at him and look at
me, really?”

               
“But, you like him?” She
inquires.

               
Shaking my head, I stammer, “He
is the closest thing I have to a best friend.
 
So no, we are just friends.”

               
“I was just curious because all
he would talk about last night was you.”

               
My head turns to her.
 
“What?”

               
Quickly, she whispers, “I have
never heard him talk about a girl so much.”

               
“That’s because we have been
together practically non-stop recently.
 
He had a date the other day.”

               
“Well, then I am wrong.
 
He obviously likes you a lot as a friend
then,” she mutters, right before Jeremy walks over.
 
I tilt my head and look at him for a
second.
 
It surprises me that he would
actually talk about me.
 
I mean, what in
the world would he say?
 
I really hope it
wasn’t anything bad.
 
I doubt if it were,
Cassandra would say anything like that.
 
She doesn’t seem to be the type that would be spiteful.

               
Jeremy grabs my hand, “Come on
toots.”

               
We walk into the mall and
Cassandra immediately leads us to one of the more popular stores.
 
I walk in and am overwhelmed right away.
 
Turning to look at me, Cassandra asks, “What
do you like?”

               
Bashfully shrugging, I reply, “I
don’t know.”

               
“Well, first let’s start with
the basics.
 
What size pants are you?”

               
I answer, “Umm, I usually buy a
size 8.”
 
Cassandra furrows her eyebrows
at me.
 
She quickly comes over and pulls
up my shirt a little bit.
 
“Hey!” I yell.

               
Cassandra looks up at me.
 
“You are so much smaller than an 8.
 
You are using a belt to hold up your pants.”

               
“Gosh,” I hiss, pulling my shirt
back down.
 
“I just buy what fits.”

               
“It doesn’t FIT you Isabelle,
you just wear it.
 
Come on, I am having
you try on smaller sizes.”
 
She walks
over and looks through some jeans.
 
“Here, a size 4 and 6.
 
We are
going to see which one fits you, because you are way, way, way smaller than an
8.”

               
Jeremy comes over and lifts up
my shirt, too.
 
I smack his hand
away.
 
“What are you doing!?” I scream.

               
“Isabelle,” he says, “You have a
nice body.”

               
“Don’t lift up my shirt!
 
Are you nuts!?”

               
He just smiles.
 
“I am here to help you buy clothes.
 
I need to see what I am working with.”

               
“She can see!
 
You can’t!” I hiss.
 
“I am not walking up to you and taking your
clothes off.”

               
“You are welcome to if you
want,” Jeremy retorts, with a devious grin.

               
Groaning, I roll my eyes and
follow Cassandra to the fitting rooms.
 
She hands me the jeans.
 
“Start
with these.
 
I am going to look for
shirts.”

               
“Alright,” I moan, taking the
pants.
 
I go into the dressing room and
stare at myself in the mirror.
 
Curious,
I lift my shirt up to check myself out.
 
I have a nice body?
 
Really?
 
Hmm, I guess
I never thought about it.
 
I have never
really compared myself to anyone, and nothing I wear really shows off anything.
 
Finally, I shrug and take my pants off.

               
Of course, I try on the size 6
jeans first.
 
They actually fit.
 
I am not trying on the size 4 pair.
 
I don’t want them painted on my body.
 
I spin and look in the mirror.
 
Wow, having a pair of pants that actually fit
makes a huge difference.
 
Huh, who would
have thought?

               
Suddenly, there is a knock on
the door.
 
“Did you try on both pairs?”
Cassandra asks.

               
“No, just the
size 6’s.
 
They fit,” I reply,
opening the door.
 
“See.”

               
Cassandra looks me up and down.
 
“You could probably fit into the fours.”

               
“I don’t want to have to peel
off my pants, thank you very much,” I retort.

               
“Well, when it comes to skirts
and dresses we may have to go a size down.”

               
Shifting my weight
uncomfortably, I mumble, “Alright.”

               
“Okay, can I come in there with
you?
 
Or are you super shy?” Cassandra
asks.