Tara Kelly - Harmonic Feedback

“I was going to ask if you made your clothes,” she said in a louder voice. “They’re really awesome.” The salesclerk who’d started our fitting room had come back out. She straightened racks a few feet from us.

“Kinda have to—not much fits me otherwise.”

She nodded at my white skirt. “Did you make that?”

“I added the lace hem to this one.” I leaned closer to her. “Put them back, Naomi!”

She put her finger to her lips, her eyes widening. “So what do you think Justin would like? I’m betting on something innocent.”

Heat ran up my neck at her words. “Do you really think he likes me that way?”

“I swear, Drea. Sometimes you act like you’ve never had a boyfriend before.”

“I’ve had plenty of boyfriends.” My pulse throbbed through my ears and my fingers ran cold. She’d caught me.

“And didn’t you have to make the first move with at least a couple?” She took my hand, pulling me toward the fitting rooms. “We’re ready,” she called over to the clerk.

The salesclerk smiled. “Okay, let me know if you need a different size.”

We squeezed into the fitting room. It smelled like roses and sweat.

Naomi pulled the white lacy slip out of her jeans and tossed it at me. “This will look so good on you. Sweet and sexy.”

I unraveled the light material. A pale ribbon swirled around the high waist, and it was barely long enough to cover my butt. What exactly did she expect me to do with this? “How do I act like I’ve never had a boyfriend?”

She took off her T-shirt and gave me a sidelong glance. “Mostly, it’s the way you act around Justin. You blush a lot—and you get all shy and giggly.”

“He’s different from most guys I’ve been around.” At least that much was true.

“I figured. Were most of them jerks?”

“Yeah.” I thought back to some of Mom’s boyfriends. “A couple drank a lot, and they’d get violent and break stuff sometimes. One of them stole our—my money and gambled it all away.”

Naomi smoothed the black slip over her baggy jeans and raised her eyebrows at me. “Like, online?”

“In Vegas.”

“Was he older?”

Oh, crap. “Yeah.”

She nodded. “I’ve dated a couple older losers too.”

“Like Scott?”

“He’s really sweet when we’re alone together. Oh my God, I didn’t tell you what he did last night.” Naomi’s cheeks practically glowed as she twisted in the mirror, eyeing her behind. “He brought yellow tulips—my favorite—and took me out to this really nice restaurant in Seattle. Like the kind that gives you warm bread before the meal.” She gazed up at the ceiling. “Anyway, he told me he wouldn’t see other people if I don’t.”

“I’d rather a guy not see other people because he doesn’t want to.”

“You and every other girl. Guys just think differently, you know?” She sucked her stomach in. “Do you think I’ve got too much tummy for this?”

All I saw was a huge chest, a small waist, and curvy hips—the perfect female figure. Everything mine wasn’t. “You look beautiful,” I said.

“Aw. Try yours on.”

“No thanks. I’ve got no reason to wear it.”

“Drea! Boys or no boys, there’s always a reason.” She winked. “I think Justin suffers from FGS, by the way.”

“What’s FGS?”

Naomi giggled and peeled the slip off. “It’s a term me and Kari came up with—we used to be joined at the hip.”

“She told me.”

“Yeah, anyway—it’s Former Geek Syndrome. Guys who are late bloomers and don’t get hot until their junior or senior year. Most of the time they aren’t aware of it yet, so they haven’t gotten all arrogant. They usually make the best boyfriends but have no idea how to make the first move.” She nudged me. “So do it already.”

“There’s more to life than boys. I’d rather write more songs.”

She pulled a flathead screwdriver and a small pair of pliers from her pocket.

“What is that for?”

Naomi put her fingers to her lips. “The security tags,” she whispered. “Make some noise, okay? Talk loud or something.” She slid the screwdriver in where the tag gripped the clothing.

“I’ll make you something. Don’t do this.”

“Quit worrying,” she whispered. “I’m not exactly new to this.”

“I’m leaving,” I said, reaching for the door.

Naomi grabbed my arm and yanked me backward. “Chill the fuck out. You’re going to get us caught.”

I avoided her gaze, which seemed to burn into me. Her nails dug into the skin of my arm.

“Please, Drea. Just help me out, okay?”

I yanked my arm out of her grip and slid to the ground. It was so hot in here. I couldn’t breathe.

“Look underneath the door,” she whispered. “Tell me if someone walks by.” She started to sing the lyrics to “Invisible” as she grasped the tag with the pliers. It snapped a couple seconds later and she handed me the remnants, which included a sharp pin. “Hold this. Anyone coming?”

I glanced under the door and shook my head, my breaths coming out fast. Naomi put the black slip back on, tucked it inside her jeans, and then pulled her T-shirt over it.

“Now yours.” She took the white lacy slip from my hands and repeated the process, still singing. “Put this on under your clothes.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Fine, whatever.” She stuffed it down her jeans, then grabbed the broken security tags from me and tossed them under the divider into the adjacent fitting room. “Let’s get out of here.”

When we opened the door, the salesclerk came around the corner smiling. “How’d it go?”

I felt like there was a knife twisting in my stomach.

Naomi handed her the doll gown and the unidentifiable pink thing. “Neither of these were me. Maybe next time.”

“Would you like to try a different size or color?”

Naomi took my hand, pulling me forward. “No, no. The cut just didn’t work.”

We’d almost left the store when the salesgirl asked us to stop. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the security tags in her hands.

“Run.” Naomi took off in a sprint.

I tried to follow, but running through crowds was near impossible. Every time I avoided one major collision, someone else appeared out of nowhere. Two security guards were jogging in my direction. I sucked in my breath and froze, watching them close in on me.

A hand grabbed my arm and pulled me into a hallway with a green exit sign. “Come on!”

I chased Naomi toward the sign, but I could hear the buzz of radios and voices behind us. The two guards entered the hallway just before we reached the doors.

“Found two females matching the description,” a breathless guy said. “They’re running out the south exit. Over.”

Naomi pushed the door open, and I dug my heels into the pavement, using every last bit of muscle to get to her dad’s car.

“Duck,” she said, bending over and weaving between the cars. The sound of opening doors and footsteps rang out behind us.

“Search the southeast parking lot,” a guy said. One set of footsteps ran in another direction.

Naomi pushed the unlock button and opened the silver door of her dad’s SUV. “Scrunch down in the seat so nobody will see you,” she whispered.

I squeezed the handle, and the passenger door creaked open. It sounded more like a scream. They must’ve heard it. I’d gotten us caught.

Naomi threw a blanket over my head as I climbed in, closing the door with as little force as possible. I squeezed my eyes shut despite the darkness. All I could hear was Naomi’s labored breathing and the roar of the car engine.

“We’ll be okay,” she said over and over again. A metal song blared out of her speakers, and she tapped her hands against the wheel.