Chapter 5
five
Morning Girlfriend, I’m gonna make a request. Give me three things you love the most about yourself.
Staring at myself in the bathroom mirror of Revamp, I take stock of my features.
I’ve never been one to wear a ton of makeup.
Luckily, I don’t need to. The freckles sprinkled across my cheeks and nose are much more prominent than they were when I was a little girl.
Honestly, I do love that about myself. Greta used to tell me they were fairy kisses, and that I was lucky to be so loved by a mystical creature.
To this day, I choose to believe her reasoning as opposed to blaming my fair skin and red-headed father.
Twirling a strand of my auburn hair around my finger, I smile back at my reflection.
I love my naturally wild hair. When I was in school, there weren’t any other girls who looked like me.
At the time, I saw it as a flaw. I only wanted to be like the other blonde barbie-doll lookalikes walking the halls.
But now, I feel unique. A knock on the door shakes me from my thoughts.
“Magnolia, this is work time.” Malcolm’s nasally voice seeps through the door and I roll my eyes. I lean against the sink, wasting time just to piss him off at this point.
Before I can stop myself, I type out a quick reply to Iris, indulging his plan to increase my elf-esteem.
I don’t hate my freckles. Or my naturally curly hair. They make me feel unique, especially in my family.
Pocketing my cell, I don’t wait for his reply. I don’t want to see it, anyway. Compliments make me so uncomfortable, as if I’ve completely convinced myself everyone is lying to me. Opening the bathroom door, I run straight into Malcolm’s chest and stumble backwards.
“What the fuck? Why do you have to be so creepy all the time, Malcolm!?” I shout, pushing past him.
“Watch your tone, Magnolia. I’m still your superior,” he says, his slimy smirk sending chills up my spine.
“You can kiss my ass. You know you’re not superior to shit, Malcolm.” He tries so hard to be such a badass, but honestly, it’s just annoying.
Becca, the owner of Revamp, is the sweetest woman alive. But I don’t know how she’s kept Malcolm around for so long. I would love to be able to kick his ass to the curb and take over. I love this place so much, but putting my heart and soul into it is exhausting with him here.
I can’t say it’s always been my dream to run a little boutique like this, because it hasn’t.
Honestly, I was so busy trying to survive my childhood, I can’t remember what I dreamed about.
Becoming beautiful like my sisters? Finally living up to my mother’s expectations of me?
I don’t know. But I know that Revamp is my dream now, and I’ll do anything to make it a reality.
The look on someone’s face when they find the perfect outfit for a first date, or when they finally feel confident in a new pair of jeans, it’s like a drug to me.
I can’t do it for myself, so I get off on doing it for other people.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I have to stop myself from instantly checking to see if it’s a reply from Iris.
Casually, I slide my phone out, a notification from the “#mentalhealthmonday” post I made this morning glaring back at me. Every time I walk out of the house, my mask slides into place. I put on another smiling face just to blend in with what people expect from me. Why do I do that to myself?
I do it so nobody sees me, at least not the real me.
No one would ever believe me if I told them all the bullshit running through my mind.
I hate the body I live in some days, like I’m locked in a prison of my own creation.
I tell everyone that I'm happy, but l'm grieving the life I will never have. I tell myself I’m a fighter, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have bad days or even bad months.
If I'm being honest, I'm not honest with anyone in my life.
Self love is such a trend right now, but it’s so fucking hard some days.
I wake up and I want to wallow in the depression that lives in my soul, but I get up and move through life, anyway.
Just hoping no one looks too closely. Maybe that’s why Iris makes me so uncomfortable, because I can tell he studies me and I don’t like what he’ll find.
I want to be the person I am in my mind and in my heart.
A strong, confident, independent woman who truly doesn’t care what other people think.
But it’s a struggle to keep her in my mind when I hear my mother talk about how she wishes I looked different or acted more ladylike.
My phone buzzes again as I hang vintage band tees on hangers for display.
This time, Iris’s name glares back at me from the screen.
You are unique, angel. Fuck your family.
I snort out a laugh at his reply. Something about Iris makes me wish it was that simple, makes me wish this thing between us was real, instead of him taking pity on a friend in need.
God, I can’t imagine the feeling of actually calling that man mine.
I’m embarrassed to admit that at twenty-three years old, I’ve never had a real boyfriend.
Book boyfriends have satisfied me since I was old enough to pick up a novel.
Well, them and my battery operated boyfriend, of course.
A twenty-three-year-old virgin with a man like Iris? Yeah, I don’t think so.
If only it was that easy!
I send my reply, hanging the t-shirts on a display by the front door. I see Ember and Kelsea walking through the town square out of the shop window, and I give them a wave. For once in my life, I do have something genuine when it comes to my friends.
It wasn’t easy to make friends with other girls when I was young.
I was a chubby tomboy who preferred surfing and climbing trees over playing with dolls and gossiping about boys.
But the friendships I’ve found with Em, Kelsea, and Rory are something I couldn’t have dreamed up.
Need somebody to hype you up? You got it.
Need somebody to be Dr. Google and convince you that you don’t have a brain tumor just because you have a headache?
They’re on it. Need a book rec about a mafia billionaire who ties you up and makes you his good girl?
We’ve got those for days. These women are everything I needed growing up and I’m so lucky to have them now.
It is that easy. Watch, I’ll show you…
The text bubbles at the bottom of the screen keep me in suspense, but the bell over the front door snags my attention.
“Oh, Magnoliaaaa,” Kelsea’s voice echoes through the space, and I laugh.
“Ladies. Having a girl’s day, huh?” I ask, hugging them both.
“I’m enjoying a rare moment away from Evelyn today.
I love my sweet girl, but mama needs a break,” Kelsea huffs, leaning against the counter.
Ember browses through our new selection of bookish hoodies, already pulling out three in her size.
Looking down at the skirt of my blue sundress, I wish I could dress however the hell I want to.
I have piles of t-shirts and hoodies I’ve saved for myself stacked in the back of my closet, but I know if I were to dress that way in public, my mother would hear about it before I could even smile.
I don’t want to care about her opinion, but it’s not worth the argument to me.
It’s not worth the devastation she causes to my self-esteem every single time.
My phone buzzes, and I check it without hesitation. A picture of Iris making a kissy face and flipping off the camera fills the screen, and I laugh loudly.
“Who ya smiling like that about? A boy?” Ember asks, shooting me a side eye.
“No, it’s just Iris,” I tell them and they both stare back at me, slack jawed.
“FYI, Magnolia. He is a boy. Actually, that’s a man right there,” Kelsea says, and I snort.
“We’re just friends,” I tell them, neither of them looking convinced. I don’t dare tell them about the kiss that’s haunted my dreams every single night since the moment I felt his lips against mine.
“Iris doesn’t have friends with boobs, Maggie. Except us,” Ember says.
“Yeah, us,” I say, gesturing to the three of us standing here.
“No. You’re unattached. Therefore, fair game if you want to be,” Kelsea suggests, smirking back at me.
“It’s not like that. He’s not in to me, he’s just helping me with some family bullshit,” I say, sliding my phone back in my pocket. Ember’s eyes soften, understanding the kind of bullshit that goes on when it comes to my family.
“See, I think that’s where you’re wrong. And I noticed how you said he’s not into you, but are you interested in him?” Kelsea asks, and I feel my cheeks heat under their scrutiny. Damn my fair skin.
“Ok. So, obviously, you like him,” Ember says, smiling widely.
“I mean, have you seen him?” I joke, but they just stare back at me.
Finally, I crack. “Ok, yes. I like him. Physically, the man is swoon worthy. But he’s also so funny and kind.
He reads romance novels, for Christ’s sake!
What man does that?! He’s such a gentleman, but not afraid to stand up for himself and other people.
I know he’s always been kind of a player, but I just don’t think that’s who he really is. ”
Ember and Kelsea exchange a knowing look, and I realize I’ve revealed way too much.
“It sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this, babe,” Kelsea says.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s not interested in me like that and his friendship is important to me. I won’t ruin it over a silly crush,” I tell them, picking at the skin around my fingernails.
“But what if he is?” Ember suggests.
“Are you kidding me? Have you looked at him? Guys like that don’t end up with girls like me, Ember. It just doesn’t happen,” I tell her, and she furrows her brows.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re beautiful, Magnolia, whether you believe it or not.
And you’re caring and funny. You’re so fucking smart, you could run this business by yourself!
He would be the luckiest man alive to be with you!
” Kelsea replies, her raised voice drawing attention from Malcolm where he stands behind the front counter.
“If he asked me…” I say, barely above a whisper. As if putting the words out into the universe will set something into motion I don’t know if I’m ready for. “I’d be his, if he asked.”
My admission makes Ember and Kelsea both smile widely, their eyes already plotting how they’re going to make this happen.
“Magnolia, do you know the definition of work?” Malcolm asks, and I scoff. All I ever do here is work. Hell, I do his job and mine most days.
“Fuck off, maggot,” Kelsea says, flipping him off. I’m jealous of her newfound freedom since quitting.
“Kelsea. You’re looking thicker than usual. Have you put on weight?” He says, and my jaw hits the floor. How fucking dare this man make any comment on a woman’s body! She just had a baby!
“I don’t know. Let’s ask my husband, shall we?” she replies, and his face pales.
He tries and fails to cover the fear in his eyes when Kelsea mentions calling Everett. We all know Malcolm is a chickenshit, but it’s so nice to prove it every once in a while. Without another word, he walks back in to the stockroom. Kelsea gives him a little wave, giggling as he walks away.
“I swear, I hate that man. When are you gonna tell Becca you already run this place so she can fire him?” Kelsea asks, and I grimace.
“It’s fine, really. I can ignore him most days. Besides, Becca doesn’t take me seriously, Kels. She would never let me run this place the way I want to,” I tell them, daydreaming about all the things I could do here.
“But you don’t even know that, Mags. You’ve never asked her,” Ember says, and I sigh. I know she’s right, but I still don’t want to hear it.
The biggest obstacle to achieving my dreams has always been me.
I was taught to be seen, but not heard. Most of the time, I’m scared to go after the things I really want.
I don’t know if it’s the fear or rejection or failure that scares me the most. But I do know that I’ll never be anything more than I am right now if I don’t find a way to get over it.
“I know you’re right, but I don’t wanna think about it right now,” I tell her, pulling my hair into a messy bun on top of my head. “I’ve gotta finish the weekly inventory. Talk to you guys later?” They both nod, and I quickly ring up Ember’s hoodies.
My phone buzzes again in my pocket, but I don’t check to see if it’s another message from Iris.
I can’t afford to raise any more suspicions with my friends, or I’ll never hear the end of it.
Once the door closes behind them, I look at my phone.
Two messages from Iris pop up on the screen and my heart flops in my chest.
Dinner tomorrow night?
It wasn’t really a question. I was just being polite. I’ll pick you up at 8.
I scoff at his confidence. Only a man like Iris would demand I cancel whatever plans I already had to make sure I had time for him. Not that I had any plans to begin with, but still.
What if I had plans?
I reply, just fucking with him at this point. We both know I’ll be ready and waiting for him by 7:30.
You do have plans, angel. With me.
I laugh out loud at him. I love the way talking with him makes me feel.
Like I can really be me, the real me, and it doesn’t matter because I don’t have to impress him.
In the past, I never would have approached a guy like Iris.
But knowing the man behind his devastatingly handsome face definitely eases my anxiety.
I pocket my cell, knowing the feeling in my gut is a dangerous one.
I like him. I know I shouldn’t. In reality, he’s not a boyfriend kind of guy.
And even if he was, I wouldn’t be the kind of girl he’s after.
But I can’t help it. He makes me laugh and makes me feel like he’s really listening when I talk.
But I know convincing myself he feels the same way would be the biggest mistake my heart ever made.