Hey Macklemore Wanna Go Thrift Shopping Novels & Stories

I did great shopping yesterday at the mall and made sure to pick the best dresses. The price was so pocket-friendly compared to Nairobi, which enticed me to buy more than I had planned. Not that money is a problem for me because my account is loaded, but you know that feeling when you go shopping and you find the prices are much lower than you expected? You end up buying more than you had planned to. That, coupled with the freedom of being able to walk around without being watched, got the better of me. I came back with huge shopping bags weighing me down. With everything that I bought, the dresses, both medium-length and floral gowns, the shoes and inner wear, and some shorts and light tops

Olivia asked bewildered. I chuckled. "Maybe. This kinda mall does not sell anything less than a thousand, except you want to head to the thrift store," I replied smiling. "Way better," she replied as Candice was busy conversing with the sales rep. "A dinner date with the high and mighty Devon and you want to wear a thrift? C'mon girl. I may not be in support of the fifty thousand dollar dress, but at least something good. Like a thousand or two," I said.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more shopping to do. It’s dangerous to leave a girl unattended in a mall.” Adrian laughed, a rich, easy sound. “Fair enough, Hilda. Enjoy your shopping. I’ll be in touch.” I waved and turned back to the racks of shoes, heels, and handbags, my pulse still a little higher than it should be. Today had already taken a sharp, exciting turn, and I liked it.

My only concern is doing my make-up but since we are inside a high-end mall, there will be good salons too. We are having lunch when Trevor messaged me. “Where are you?” he said in his message. “I’m having lunch with Bobby’s mother,” I replied. “Oh, so you’re not coming,” he asked. I excused myself so I could make a call outside of the restaurant. “What do you mean I’m not coming? I’m done shopping for the dress. We'll buy shoes after lunch,” I said. “But the event ends after lunch,” he said. “What? So what are we shopping for?” I asked.

“Yes. We are going thrifting. And no, I won’t take no for an answer.” I laugh, already knowing I’m not getting out of this. “You’ve had this planned, haven’t you?” “Since Thursday,” she says proudly, standing and brushing off her coat. “There’s a new place off Main Street I’ve been dying to check out. They have everything, books, vintage jackets, weird old records. We’ll be treasure hunting.” The word treasure pulls something soft inside my chest. I don’t know why. Maybe because it sounds hopeful, like we might stumble on something good, something forgotten but worth keeping.

Guess it finally did. [Damn, she's lucky, right? Andrew Arlington. That family's serious old money.] [For real. I heard her dress alone cost five figures today.] [Five figures? No way. I heard it was custom. Just the hand embroidery took three months...] Skeet exited the chat. Bella in that dress kept flashing in his head. Then he laughed. It came out bitter, like chewing sand. Seven years. He thought they were solid. He was wrong. What he called "solid" was her staying quiet. Putting up with everything. Always backing him.

I hissed back. His hand slid around my waist, fingers splaying against the small of my back. The heat of his palm seeped through the thin fabric, sending an involuntary shiver up my spine. "Cold?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. I shot him a glare. "Peachy." We made our way through the crowd, a sea of designer labels and fake smiles parting before us. I caught snippets of conversation as we passed. "...can't believe he's really engaged..."

Owen and I almost argued right there when he tried to drag me into a brand-name boutique, but I held my ground. Why waste money on labels when we could find perfectly good designer pieces for a fraction of the cost at our favorite thrift shop? We loaded our bags into the car, then headed to the biggest mall in the province. We let Lebi run wild in the play area and treated ourselves to fast food for lunch. It was perfect—almost. Every so often, my mind would drift, painting pictures of what could have been. What if Levi was here with us? What if he was the one helping Lebi build towers out of plastic blocks, the one holding my hand as we walked through the aisles?

“That’s for low lives.” “Well, your mate is a low life.” He grimaced, but I didn’t give him a chance to apologize. We were from different worlds. Becca and Fumi would never be found dead in a thrift store. Thrift stores were my go-to until I earned enough for brand new. I learned not to be offended by the status quo long ago. “What about something more casual?”

I dragged her with me into the car, said goodbye to my parents and grandma and Hank drove off. Shopping is like therapy. Especially when the money I’m spending isn’t mine. In fact, that’s the only time shopping felt like therapy, when it’s my money, I feel a heart attack coming each time I pick up something to buy. I did buy a sexy dress, a lingerie set from Victoria’s Secret and a pair of stripper shoes. Joyce dyed her hair green. My mother would FLIP when she sees it. I thought it looked good on her. Joyce grew her hair longer than mine so she decided to spice it all up and got a funny looking cut that surprisingly looked really good on her. She also got a tattoo. It was fun spending time