novelraw Chapter 12: Kitty’s New Clothes
Chapter 12: Kitty’s New Clothes
Note: Yes it took a while to get this one out. It is both quite a bit longer and my furnace caught on fire the other day. (flames shootin' out and everything, repairman said 'you're lucky to be alive' etc etc.) So there's been some chaos. Don't worry, I am fine, my apartment did not burn down and now we have a brand new furnace that shouldn't catch on fire anymore. Just please let me know if this story drags because it is longer, I have not actually looked over it in detail but I wanted to see them be cute together so alas: the shopping episode. Hope you enjoy~
Also look forward to the next 18+ chapter coming out tomorrow.
Also forgot to link this: being the cookies that they are talking about.
Alisha got up at her usual time and lured me down with the smell of coffee.
I felt half asleep still but got myself to the table and gratefully accepted the hot beverage. The caffeine sunk its claws in slowly and luxuriously as that wonderful coffee flavor filled my soul. I wondered what brand of coffee Alisha used. The jar of beans was unlabeled, evidently refilled from a small bag that was then discarded. I'd have to ask her eventually, but at the moment I was enjoying drinking coffee with the morning sunlight gradually strengthening and Alisha similarly sipping from her own mug.
It was a nice moment.
“Alisha,” I started.
“Hmm?” She looked up at my voice.
“Do you have somewhere in mind to take me?”
“I hadn't decided yet. I usually get clothes in the city and then get them tailored but I imagine your situation was different, considering…”
“I bought mine,” I hesitated to admit it but so far Alisha had understood my situation. “Secondhand?” I offered strangely. “At a thrift store.”
She nodded. “It is economical to do so,” she said. “But I think you deserve some new ones that’ll last a longer time.”
I wasn't sure if that was a kind way to turn her nose up at thrift stores. It had been an admittedly ridiculously long time since I had clothes that didn’t have holes in them. Before Alisha had given me some clothes, I hadn’t bought anything for about eighteen months and the clothes that I took with me to the streets wore out quickly.
“Okay,” I agreed. “But I don't need anything tailored or anything, I'm not that picky.”
“We’ll go to the mall where they have a bunch of shops you can pick from,” Alisha told me. “I won't subject you to getting measured and fitted but I do want you to find clothes that fit you well.”
“O-okay.” The last time I went shopping in a shopping plaza was even longer ago.
“I did want to get you one other thing,” Alisha continued.
I nodded.
“A cell phone. It doesn't have to be fancy but I want you to be able to call if you get into trouble.”
“Yes, that's a good idea.” But cell phones were so expensive. I felt another layer of guilt for depending on her so much.
“We’ll leave once my driver gets here,” she continued and gave me a few pets, gently pulling a few tangles from my hair in the process. I wanted to melt into her, but she got up and took care of her coffee mug before going up the stairs.
I quickly finished my own coffee and replicated her, rushing up to get ready. There was real excitement for the first time in a long time. Even if I didn't buy anything, I'd get to spend the day with Alisha and that was enough for me to be happy.
Alisha’s driver dropped us off at the entrance to the mall. She led me inside and simply stopped inside the entrance.
“Is it okay?” I asked, seeing her uncertainty.
She looked down at me then continued her gaze around the people and shop fronts. “Yes. How about we start by getting you a phone?”
I nodded in agreement and she started to walk deeper into the mall. Her heels clacked on the tile in a very iconic way. I wasn't sure if she enjoyed the sound or if it was simply a habit she’d gotten drilled into her head when she was learning the ropes of being rich and powerful. Either way it was easy to keep track of her without looking.
She looked left and right as we went. It occurred to me she didn't know where anything was, if she never went shopping at the mall. She definitely hid it very well but she was out of her element.
I gently took her hand and gave her a gentle pull. She stopped and turned to look at me, confused.
“Which phone carrier?” I asked.
She blinked. “Veri-phone,” she answered.
I pointed a bit down the corridor. “It's on the left up there with a small sign.”
She gave my hand a squeeze before releasing it and continuing on in the direction I had pointed her in.
We entered the small shop together and a young man looked up from behind the counter.
“How can we help you?” he asked.
Alisha addressed him with a look that made his face go uncertain. “I'm looking to purchase a phone and open a new line on it.”
“Okay, do you have an account with us already?” He turned his attention to the computer screen, typing in information as Alisha listed it out to him. I felt a little lost and waited patiently. She specified an iPear phone, which surprised me as they were expensive but she put her hand on top of my head before I could voice concern.
The total, after the activation fees, was two-thousand and eighty dollars.
Alisha nodded as if this was all a very normal amount to drop on someone on a whim.
I took her hand suddenly before she was going to pay and she looked over at me.
“I should get a case for it,” I explained. As much as I hated asking for her to spend more money, I also hated the idea of dropping it and watching it shatter on the floor. Even a cheap case was better than no case.
“Yes,” she said then turned her gaze back to the clerk. “Could I get the most durable case you have?” she asked.
“The beaver-box comes in three colors, which would you like?”
Alisha looked back at me again. “Clear,” I said.
The clerk then grabbed the item off the shelf and rang it up.
Alisha had no qualms about the price and paid with a debit card.
And then Alisha handed the phone, freshly encased in thick clear plastic, to me.
I stared at it. It was the first time I held a smartphone that was mine. My parents had always given me basic phones without data plans to use.
“I'll give you some phone numbers to put in it later,” she told me as we walked out. “Now, where should we get you clothes?”
I didn’t know what to say. My thoughts were getting tangled as the people passed by, having their own conversations, some of them loud enough to be heard from far away and others quietly, but right next to me so my brain picked it up anyway. I shook my head and gripped the phone tighter, feeling the plastic dig in against my skin.
“Uhm,” I thought. “I don’t– I mean, I’ve seen clothes I liked at the Livingston Jacket Factory, but that’s not necessarily the most economic option.”
“Economic or not, we should look,” Alisha said. “Do you know where it is?”
“It’s at the far end,” I explained. “It’s a pretty big store so it’s hard to miss.”
She gave me a nod and we walked over there. I didn’t have any pockets so I simply carried my phone with me the entire way. It was a constant reminder of what I was doing, leeching off of Alisha’s wealth.
In any case, she led me through the mall. I spotted her driver keeping his distance, but not being so far as to not help if we ran into trouble. It felt like a complicated task. Most people didn’t have security with them everywhere they went and this was definitely an average mall where people who did keep security with them would almost never set foot in. That meant that if Alisha’s security tagged along too close, it would draw attention and Alisha most likely did not want that much attention brought to her.
Even the number of people that did a vague double take to check out her wealth (because she held herself in that specific wealthy-person way) seemed to get on her nerves a bit as she tended to give them a vicious side-eye as she passed.
I felt quite small next to her. Our height difference wasn’t that much when Alisha wasn’t in heels but her presence simply felt so much greater than mine.
When we entered the large store she hesitated again, examining the labyrinth of clothing racks with scrutiny.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
Her focus shifted to me and she let out a breath. “Yes.”
I looked around. There were quite a few people browsing the racks and they were all very average looking individuals and a few groups of young women and girls.
I decided I’d have to push us through this as Alisha was frowning at the racks. “You’re quite small,” she said. “So do you wear a size small…?”
“This is the childrens’ section,” I mumbled. “So no.” I led the way to the womens’ section and began rifling through their options. Alisha stood by me, observing with interest, and occasionally glancing up to scan the rest of the store before turning her attention back to me.
The majority of the clothes weren’t my style, but I picked out a few nicer looking shirts to try on. Then Alisha followed me over to the changing rooms. My thoughts were starting to churn again as I waited for the clerks attention. I really wished changing rooms were more private as everybody could see which stall you went in and scrutinize your choices and judge your appearance, so.ply because they wanted too.
Alisha put her hand on my shoulder and I flinched before leaning into it a little.
The clerk looked up and then handed me a tag without a word.
Alisha followed me in, right into the changing stall.
“Are you okay?” she asked hushedly.
I nodded. “Just anxious about my appearance and everything.”
She hugged me, pulling me close as she locked the door. “I think you’re very cute,” she said. “I can stay with you if it makes things easier.” Her lips got very close to my ear. “And I don't mind admiring you.”
I shuddered. There was fear she might actually try to get frisky in here as we were pretty isolated. At the same time these stalls weren't exactly sound proof.
She released me and took a seat on the bench as I hung up my selections. There were a couple pairs of jeans and some semi-casual shirts I thought might be better suited for spending time with Alisha in public. So far she hadn't seemed to mind my lack of style or fancy clothes but that didn’t mean I shouldn't make some effort to match her formality.
Despite her teasing, Alisha spent most of the time on her phone, once again reading messages.
I peeled out of my own clothes and tried on a couple pairs of pants. I was even smaller than I expected. I could pull a few inches of extra fabric away from my body with every pair I tried on.
Alisha glanced up periodically, never prying but also not leaving me entirely to my lonesome either. Her presence was calming, all of the unforgiving confidence she walked around with tucked away for the time being as she leaned forward to read her messages. I could see there were more coming in and her responses were rapid.
“I thought this was your day off,” I commented.
“I didn't have anything scheduled,” she explained. “But people don't hesitate to pester me if there's something they want.” She looked up at me. “Does it bother you? I can put it aside for now.”
“No, I imagine this is boring for you,” I said. I looked back in the mirror. “Although I wouldn't mind your opinion on this color against my skin.”
“The color?” she looked me up and down. “I think it suits you. It brings out your eyes and your skin tone.”
“Th-thanks,” I said. It felt genuine from her and made me unexpectedly emotional. I took a breath. My first choices were a couple blouses in soft pastel colors and a cropped dark grey sweatshirt. She nodded in approval of these as I started to put my own clothes back on.
“These definitely feel like you,” she commented and picked them up to hold against my skin.
“I’m glad,” I said. There was always anxiety about my clothing choices so it still felt weird that Alisha was so supportive.
Was she lying? I had to wonder. If she was afraid I might run away again, she might try to placate me with sweet words that meant nothing.
I didn’t like that thought.
“Are you okay, Kitten?” she asked. I blinked, losing my staring contest with the wall.
“Yes,” I said. “You really think these are a good fit?” I asked.
She looked at the shirts. “To be perfectly honest,” she started. “They could use a few small adjustments to fit you just right, but as someone who doesn’t need that amount of snobbery, they are perfectly acceptable.”
“What… do you mean?” I asked.
“So, I wear clothes that have been tailored for me, but not everybody does. You aren’t in a position where you need to appear to be willing to spend large sums of money on things that are rather frivolous.”
“Oh,” I said. She was calling me lower class in a very roundabout way.
“Most people would never notice,” she said. “It’s when you’ve been raised to see these things that you see them.”
“Your parents were wealthy then, huh,” I pondered. There was nothing meant by it.
She went quiet for an uncomfortable time. Her lips moved briefly before she answered. “Yes,” she said simply, then stood from her seat. “Are you ready to go through another round of trying things on?” she asked.
I nodded, feeling overwhelmed but trying to put on a brave face.
We collected the clothes and returned those that were unwanted before I picked out several more pairs of pants, hoping to find the right size.
The pair I finally settled on were basic jeans in a faded blue. Alisha gave her approval, especially seeming happy with them paired with the other clothes I had picked out.
She guided me to pick out a pair of shoes as well, insisting at my hesitation that shoes were one of those necessities she couldn’t let me go without.
The amount of money spent was not good. I knew this, but somehow Alisha had a way of quieting me down when I started to point this out.
We left the Livingston Jacket Factory with two bags of clothing, one of which I slid my phone into for ease of carrying.
Alisha took one of them but didn’t insist on carrying the other when I pulled it away from her. Instead she sighed and gave me one of those soft smiles. “Okay, where to next?” she asked.
I blinked. “That should be enough,” I said. “I mean, I don’t need that many clothes, I’ll be perfectly content with what I have now.”
She was quiet again as we walked down the mall corridor. “How about we get some food,” she offered. “We haven’t eaten much today yet.”
I nodded. This was a compromise I could agree to since my stomach was starting to hurt from being hungry.
I led us to the cafe and she looked over the menu with interest. In the end we sat at a table. Alisha had gotten a hot tea and an olive-feta bread. In front of me was a chocolate croissant and a smoothie.
This time, Alisha put her phone away and gazed at me. I found myself gazing back at her and blushing.
“We haven’t had a lot of time to get to know each other,” she started. “So tell me about yourself. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“I’m not sure there’s much to tell,” I admitted. “I’m twenty-two years old uhm… my favorite color is light blue, but that changes often, I find most pastel colors very pretty.”
“Mm,” she urged me to continue at my pause.
“I don’t know, I’ve liked watching anime in the past but– I just don’t know anymore. I think that was just a way to distract myself.”
She nodded. “Shutting out pain can be a very easy trap to fall into,” she agreed. “Did you finish high school?”
“Yes, and some college but no degree.”
“You did better than me then,” she said.
“You didn’t finish high school?” I asked.
“It’s… complicated. I was pulled out to get homeschooled, but didn’t take my exams. I did get a GED not that long after but it doesn’t have the same weight as a high school diploma.”
“Right.” GED: sometimes mockingly called a ‘good-enough-degree.’ “I mean, I don’t think anyone would dare call you stupid in any manner,” I said. “You certainly don’t act like you would be.”
“You might be surprised by the things people have said to me,” she said.
I was sure those people had met some cruel fate shortly after, if not for what they said, for whatever bullshit they were trying to pull on Alisha.
“What about other hobbies?” she asked suddenly, changing the subject. “I should make sure there’s something for you to do when you’re at the house.”
“I don’t know,” I stared at my half-eaten croissant. It was quite good and would probably help put more meat on my bones. “I guess I wanted to try baking at some point but– I mean, I never really had a good place to try it out. In the dorms, the kitchens were really gross all the time.”
“We could arrange that,” she offered quickly. “I mean, my cook sometimes makes bread and rolls and things so there should be some pantry staples there. You could start with some simpler recipes like… bread and stuff and move on to more complicated things if you find you like it.”
I nodded. “I always wanted to try baking cookies,” I said. “Especially those cute checkerboard ones, you know.”
“Checkerboard sablés?” she asked.
“Is that what they’re called? I could never figure it out.” I leaned forward on the table.
“Yes, I think so. My mother–” she stopped abruptly. “Used to make them.”
I settled back on the chair again. “It’s okay,” I said quietly. “You don’t need to tell me.”
She shook her head. “It’s not a big deal,” she said. “She’s alive and well. We still talk sometimes, we just… disagree a lot.”
“I understand that,” I said. Still the uncomfortable silence that followed was suffocating.
“I’ll have my shopper pick up some baking ingredients for you,” she said finally. “Butter and eggs and those kinds of things.”
“Thank you,” I said. It didn’t feel like the right time to turn her down. She had shifted back into emotionless Alisha, and guarded her expression very carefully.
We lingered for a little while longer. Alisha called me cute again, but nothing else of significance came up.
We got home in the late afternoon. There were four bags of new clothes and also two new pairs of shoes for me, one a casual sneaker, and the other simple black flats if I ended up needing a more formal pair.
Alisha waited for me to take my old shoes off, then picked them up and walked over to the trash can and dropped them in.
I did not protest. Those old sneakers had holes, were stained a dark grey brown when they were supposed to be black, and smelled very very bad from the constant use and wear.
Still, there was some bittersweetness to see the last of my street life get tossed away. Those shoes had seen me through many days of difficult weather, wandering and waiting.
I followed Alisha through the house as she went upstairs.
“What can I do to help?” I asked.
“You don't need to do anything,” Alisha said. “I'm just putting your new clothes in the hamper.”
She went into the closet with me still following and watching curiously.
“The hampers right here, by the way,” she pointed out. “For dirty clothes.” She pulled the lid off a tall woven basket and dropped the new bags in. “I have someone to take care of this, too, so don't worry about it.”
“I see,” I said. For someone that shouldn't have people snooping around her personal stuff, she certainly employed a lot of people to take care of her housework. Or perhaps she had one of her men take care of things like this, but I'd never seen her ask Tye to do much of anything that wasn't security related.
She crouched, still wearing heels.so I was impressed by her balance, and began gathering up the clothes that had been tossed to the floor at some point. Wordlessly, she put them away on various racks and shelves until there was nothing out of place.
She turned, petted me a few times and then continued out of the closet with me trailing behind her.
“Have a seat,” she said as she passed by her couch. I hesitated but did as told and heard her over by the bookcases. When she came back she presented me with two books. One was a cookbook very specifically on bread and the other was a cookbook, as far as I could tell, but was in Japanese.
“You can use these,” she explained. “I know you probably can't read Japanese but your phone should have a translator app.”
“Thank you,” I said automatically and took them from her. “But why do you have cookbooks?”
“I acquired them as gifts,” she said. “When I was younger.”
I opened the one in Japanese out of curiosity. “Takeno” was a Japanese name, but “Alisha” was definitely not so I had to wonder if she was fully Japanese or only part.
“Can you speak Japanese?” I asked.
She nodded. “But I can't read kanji very well.”
“I see.” As I flipped through the pages, many of the recipes were for more savory items; quiches and a very tasty looking bread that zigzagged in an intricate pattern. Toward the back were the sweeter recipes and I paused as I saw the unmistakable checkerboard cookies.
The recipe wasn't as long as I expected and I took my phone to use the translator and looked over the recipe. Alisha sat on the couch next to me as I did so and settled in with her own book. After a while, she got up and I heard her talking briefly with someone downstairs. I let her take care of her business without intruding until she called me down, presenting me with a plate of fish and rice that was still hot and steaming. Sounds of clattering pans and running water came from the kitchen as she wandered to the dining table and had us sit down next to each other.
“Do you think you’ll try baking?” she asked me as she rather elegantly cut into her fish.
“Yes,” I said. “Tomorrow, if you’re not around.”
“I won’t be for the first part of the day. But I’ll send Tye over so you’re not alone.”
I nodded. “I should be okay, but if you think it’s smart...”
“If he’s there he can also drive you anywhere you’d like to go. I don’t want you to feel trapped here,” she continued. “At the same time, I want you to have space if you’d like it.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I think I’ll be comfortable with him around.”
“Good.” There was definitely relief on her face. I made a mental note to accept security if I was staying for long periods of time around the house, just so she could be more relaxed while she was out doing what she needed to. It also made the slight ache on the side of my face where that man had smacked me feel a bit less pervasive. It hadn’t even bruised, really, but it felt tender still.
I looked down at my plate of fish and rice. There was a small pile of cooked greens on the side but I had no idea what it was. But I ate it anyway and found it delicious.