Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
I shake my head, glancing down at my clothes. I’m wearing light denim jeans and a plain T-shirt. “Not really. I can’t take home a whole wardrobe or anything, though. My mom will flip.”
“Okay, no problem. We’ll keep it simple, get you some staples. I’m thinking a great pair of jeans, some black leggings, a couple tops, a stylish jacket. Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” she enthuses, flashing me a big grin.
I try to smile back, but I’m definitely feeling intimidated. “Yeah, so much fun.”
Chapter Five
It turns out shopping with Hunter’s mom is fun.
She’s a lot to absorb right off the bat, but the more time I spend with her as she hauls me through stores collecting more bags than I wanted to take home, the more I realize she just lives in her own world. She regales me with horrifying stories of “fun” things she did back in her modeling days, but recounts it all with fondness, like it’s nothing to be ashamed of. She buys me things I think are really pretty, and a few things I try to talk her out of because I know I’ll never wear them.
“Camel looks so good on you,” she insists, holding up a top that… well, I’m not sure if it’s a shirt or a bandana, but it doesn’t cover nearly enough skin.
“I’m never going to wear it,” I tell her, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter how pretty it looks.”
“Nonsense. It looks great. We’re buying it,” she announces, draping it over her arm.
“I really think we should stop,” I tell her, glancing anxiously at the stuff she has already bought me. “We already have so many bags. I feel bad about you spending so much money on me.”
“Nonsense.” She waves me off. “When I got pregnant with Hunter, I hoped so hard he’d be a little girl so I’d have a daughter to doll up and shop with. Obviously, he was not a girl. I still dressed him cute, but boy clothes just aren’t as much fun as girl clothes.” Suddenly inspired, she says, “Oh, we need to get you a couple dresses! Every girl needs a little black dress and a little red dress in her closet.”
“I don’t really have a lot of occasions I need to wear a dress to,” I tell her.
“You’ve got those middle school dances, right? Picture this walking into your next one: you’re rocking heels and a flirty red dress, a black leather jacket, and a cute clutch purse. Oh, we need to get you a clutch. And makeup. We need to get you mascara. Your eyes are beautiful, a little mascara will really make them pop.”
I look around at the five shopping bags we have already accumulated. “I literally cannot take all this stuff home with me. My mom sent me to the mall with twenty dollars.”
“We’ll condense before we send you home,” she assures me. “It only looks like a lot because of all the bags, we can easily fit everything in just a couple. Don’t worry so much. Is your mom really going to be mad that you got to go on a shopping spree she didn’t have to pay for? Come on, now.”
She will, though. Not least of all because it’s not just some shopping spree she didn’t have to pay for—it’s a shopping spree sponsored by Hunter’s mom, and anything having to do with Hunter sets my mom on edge.
“Heeled boots,” she says, suddenly inspired. “Black heeled boots.”
“I don’t think…”
But she isn’t listening. She’s wandering off to the cash register to pay for the shirt I told her I’m not going to wear so we can go shop for boots I’ll also never wear.
___
After a full day of shopping, Venus and I have returned to the food court. She bought us bubble teas and sat me down to give me a makeup tutorial.
She only bought me a few makeup items, but she taps each one as she tells me what I need to know. She bought me a moisturizer, too. Apparently, Venus Keller believes it’s never too soon to start moisturizing.
“You’re not going to wear a lot of makeup, and you’re definitely not going to look like you wear a lot of makeup,” she tells me now, as she carefully applies a coat of mascara to my lashes.
I try to keep from blinking, but I feel like she’s going to poke me right in the eye.
“Your everyday makeup is only intended to enhance your natural beauty, so you don’t want to use a heavy hand. For an evening look or a special occasion you can get a little more dramatic, but for a day at the mall?” She shakes her head. “Take Valerie, for example.”
I stiffen a little just hearing her name.
“Valerie is a very pretty girl, but she’s trying too hard; she needs to tone it down. The pale blue eye shadow she’s wearing today? No woman needs to own that awful shade of eye shadow. I did the same thing when I was your age, though,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Tried so hard to look pretty I just ended up looking like a clown. When I started modeling, I learned a better way, so I’ll just teach you now and save you the painfully awkward stage.”