Their Wonder Years: Fall 98

Chapter 170: Dress Shopping

The Student Center’s multipurpose room was alive with sound - a mix of pounding dhol rhythms, clapping, and sneakers squeaking on polished tile. At one end of the hall, a boombox thumped out the track again. And again. And again.

"From the top!" Nandita called, clapping twice. “Let’s get this tight! And boys - I need your hips to move like you’re not storing textbooks in your back pockets!”

Groans echoed from the male contingent.

The girls, of course, were on fire.

Mia spun effortlessly through the footwork sequence, curls bouncing, her steps sharp and hips loose. Camila twirled beside her, laughing even as she landed her turns perfectly. LaTasha, Sarah, and Marisol hit every beat with a confident, sassy grace. They moved like they owned the floor.

In contrast… the boys tried their best.

Bharath was focused - deeply focused - but his footwork was a split-second late on every count. Jorge had rhythm but forgot one arm movement every single time. Ravi’s shoulders were tense as hell, and Tyrel looked like he was doing the moves with a two-second WiFi lag.

Nandita gave them a look that had them quivering in shame.

"Okay,” she said finally, holding up a hand. “We’re… getting there. Ish. The girls are killing it. Boys, you’re... adorable.”

“We're trying!” Ravi groaned, wiping sweat off his forehead. “Why do we have to shimmy?”

“Because this is an Indian dance,” Sarah shot back, “and in India, men shimmy with pride.”

Bharath looked like he was calculating the torque on his hips. “Is there a diagram for this?”

“No,” Nandita said flatly. “Only shame and judgement from our ancestors.”

They ran the routine one more time - girls smashing it, boys barely holding the line - before Nandita clapped her hands decisively.

“Alright, that’s enough. We’ll fine-tune the finale tomorrow. You’re all done.”

The group collapsed into cheers and applause.

“Now,” Nandita added, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, “I need all of you. We’re going dress shopping. The store closes at eight.”

Tyrel froze. “Wait, like-we have to come?”

Nandita turned to him. “Yes. You’re our moral support, bag holders, opinion givers, and snack suppliers.”

“But-” Ravi started.

“No buts,” she said. “We danced. Now we conquer fashion.”

Tyrel backed his pickup truck out with a grin on his face and a plan in his heart.

The boys stood in a loose clump around the tailgate.

“So,” Jorge said, hands on hips, “we really gonna do this?”

“Yup,” Tyrel confirmed, pulling his cap low. “Y’all can’t fit in the cab, and we’re not going on the highway. So yeah - you’re riding back there.”

Ravi raised a brow. “Is that legal? I know I did it once during Couchball (see Their Wonder Years: Vignettes) - but that was a moral stand.”

Tyrel shrugged. “Not technically. But we ain’t crossing interstates. We goin’ side streets only. If you see a cop, duck.”

Bharath looked delighted. “Like actual ducking?”

“Yes,” Tyrel said. “Think of it like a stealth mission.”

Ravi turned to Jorge. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever agreed to.”

Jorge grinned. “I love it.”

Bharath was already hopping up into the bed of the truck. “This is going to be so much fun.”

Jorge followed, dragging Ravi up behind him.

The girls climbed into the cab, laughing as Mia wedged herself between Marisol and LaTasha.

“I can’t believe they’re riding like cargo,” Camila giggled.

“They volunteered,” Sarah reminded her.

“They’re excited,” Marisol added, watching Bharath wave from the back like a puppy going on a joyride.

Tyrel slammed the driver-side door. “Y’all hold on. And no yelling ‘WHEE’ at every corner.”

The wind whipped through their hair as the pickup cruised through the late-evening streets. Streetlights blurred into golden halos. The occasional honk and whoosh of a passing car made the ride feel even more illicit.

“This is amazing!” Bharath yelled, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt.

Ravi clutched the edge of the truck. “If I die because of dress shopping-!”

“You’ll die fabulous!” Jorge whooped, throwing his arms out like wings.

They passed a group of frat boys walking a keg down the sidewalk. One guy gave them a salute. Another yelled, “LEGENDS!”

Bharath ducked and popped back up. “We are so doing this again.”

Ravi’s hair was a mess. “I hate how much I’m enjoying this.”

Up front, Mia turned in her seat and poked her head through the tiny sliding window.

“You boys okay back there?”

Bharath beamed. “We’re the wind.”

Mia winked. “Try not to fly away. We need you alive for the fitting.”

Tyrel pulled into a strip mall parking lot with a slow, deliberate swerve that made the guys holler in joy.

Nandita hopped out first. “Alright, soldiers. Fashion war awaits.”

The girls linked arms and strutted toward the boutique.

Behind them, the boys climbed down from the truck, exhilarated and breathless.

Jorge slapped Bharath’s back. “We should dance like that on stage. Just three dudes in a pickup.”

Ravi snorted. “Please. I’m still dizzy.”

“Come on,” Bharath said, jogging to catch up with the girls. “Let’s go hold handbags and get judged on our lack of knowledge about colors.”

Tyrel stretched his arms. “We suffer now… but we feast at Taco Bell later.”

“Yes!”

“No we’re ain’t,” deadpanned LaTasha as the other girls nodded. 

“Oh…” 

And just like that, the crew marched into the boutique - ready to face chiffon, sequins, and chaos. Together.