Chapter 219: 219 | Retail Therapy
I didn’t have an immediate answer.
"See?" Felicity said. "That’s what I thought. You need more joy in your life, Lukas. You need someone to show you how to enjoy things without attaching meaning to them."
"And you’re volunteering for that role?"
"Consider it a public service. I’m very good at enjoying things. It’s basically my superpower."
The mall appeared ahead of us, a massive structure of glass and commerce that promised retail therapy and overpriced food.
Felicity’s grip on my arm tightened with excitement. "Okay. Ground rules. You’re not allowed to complain about prices. You’re not allowed to veto anything without trying it on first. You’re not allowed to buy another hoodie unless it’s a significant upgrade from your current hoodie collection."
"Those rules seem specifically designed to torture me."
"They’re designed to improve you. Torture is just a side effect."
We entered the mall and the air conditioning hit us like a wall of artificial comfort. Felicity immediately pulled me toward a store I didn’t recognize, its windows displaying mannequins in clothes that looked expensive and uncomfortable.
"We’re starting here," she announced.
"This looks like a store for people who hate themselves."
"This is a store for people who want to look good. The hatred comes later, when you see the prices."
She pushed through the door and I followed, already regretting every decision that had led to this moment.
The next three hours were a blur of fabric and fitting rooms and Felicity’s relentless opinions.
"No."
"You haven’t even tried it on."
"I don’t need to try it on. It has ruffles."
"They’re subtle ruffles."
"There’s no such thing as subtle ruffles. Ruffles are inherently unsubtle. That’s their entire purpose."
Felicity sighed and put the shirt back on the rack. "You’re impossible."
"You’re the one who wanted to do this."
"I wanted to improve your wardrobe. I didn’t realize your wardrobe would fight back."
We moved to another section. Felicity pulled out a dark blue button-down that actually looked decent.
"This," she said. "Try this."
I took it to the fitting room and changed. The fabric was soft and the fit was better than anything I owned. I looked at myself in the mirror and had to admit the color worked with my complexion.
When I stepped out, Felicity’s eyes widened.
"Oh," she said. "Oh, that’s good. That’s really good. Lukas, you actually look like someone who knows what they’re doing."
"I always look like someone who knows what they’re doing."
"You look like someone who could know what they’re doing if they tried. This is you actually trying. Big difference."
She circled me, examining the fit from every angle. Her eyes traveled across my shoulders, down my chest, lingering on places that felt more personal than a friendship shopping trip warranted.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you’re appraising livestock."
"I’m appraising fashion choices. The livestock is incidental." She grinned. "We’re getting this. And the black version. And possibly the grey version depending on how much you’re willing to spend."
"It’s my money."
"Exactly. Which means you should spend it on things that make you look this good."
I bought all three versions.
By the time we reached the food court, my arms were loaded with bags and my wallet was significantly lighter. Felicity had proven ruthlessly efficient at finding clothes that worked while rejecting anything that didn’t meet her standards.
"You’re good at this," I admitted, settling into a plastic chair with my purchases.
"Shopping is my secondary Aspect. The primary one is illusions. The secondary one is making people look better than they thought possible."
"That’s not how Aspects work."
"That’s not how your Aspect works. Mine is more flexible."
She went to get food while I sat with the bags, watching the mall crowds flow past. Families with children. Groups of teenagers. Couples holding hands and pretending the world was simple.
My phone buzzed.
Sloane: Update.
Me: Still alive. Bought clothes. Currently at food court.
Sloane: Has she touched you inappropriately?
Me: She grabbed my arm while we walked. That’s it.
Sloane: That’s a lot of arm grabbing.
Me: It’s friendly arm grabbing. Apparently that’s a thing.
Sloane: I don’t grab my friends’ arms.
Me: You also set things on fire when you’re annoyed. Not everyone expresses affection the same way.
Sloane: I’m not annoyed.
Me: Your bond reading says otherwise.
Sloane: My bond reading is a PRIVACY VIOLATION.
Me: You’re the one who wanted full transparency.
Sloane: Transparency about ACTIONS not FEELINGS.
Me: I’ll be home in a few hours. Miss you.
Sloane: I hate you.
Me: Love you too.
Felicity returned with a tray loaded with mall food. Burgers, fries, something that might have been chicken but looked questionable.
"Your girlfriend texting?"
"How did you know?"
"Your face got that specific expression. The one that says ’I’m being interrogated by someone I love but also fear.’"
"I don’t fear Sloane."
"Everyone fears Sloane. She’s terrifying. That’s part of her appeal." Felicity sat down across from me and started eating fries. "So? How’s the jealousy level?"
"Manageable."
"See? This is working. We’re having a completely normal friend day and your relationship isn’t imploding. I told you it was possible."
I looked at her across the plastic table, her blonde hair catching the artificial light and her smile wide and genuine.
"Why do you care?" I asked.
"About what?"
"About being my friend. About proving this is possible. You could have anyone in our cohort. Caden practically proposed to you during the mile run. Why me?"
Felicity’s smile faded into something more serious. "Because you saved my life. And because I don’t have that many real friends. Most people see the illusions and assume that’s all there is. You saw through them during the entrance exam. You saw me panicking underneath and you helped anyway."
"Anyone would have helped."
"No. They wouldn’t have. Most people would have kept running. Most people would have prioritized their own survival. You stopped. You pulled me out. You carried me to safety when you could have left me behind."
She reached across the table and put her hand over mine. The contact was warm and deliberate.
"I want to be your friend because you’re a good person, Lukas. Underneath all the strategy and the hiding and the mysterious bullshit you refuse to explain. You’re someone worth knowing. And I want to know you."
The System notification appeared in my peripheral vision.
〘 Felicity Hardy Temptation Gauge: 8% → 14% 〙
〘 Note: The Host’s noble actions continue to generate returns. How inconvenient. 〙
Inconvenient was right.
"We should probably head back," I said.
Felicity squeezed my hand once before letting go. "Yeah. Probably. Before your girlfriend tracks my location through some kind of jealousy-powered GPS."
"She doesn’t have jealousy-powered GPS."
"Are you sure? Because she seems like the type."
I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
We gathered the bags and started the walk back to campus. The afternoon sun was warm and the conversation flowed easier than it had any right to.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to stay platonic for long.
