“That color. It’ll make your titties look sick. You want to look like you’ve got blue boobs and purple nips?”
Celia raised her eyebrows. She looked at Alison.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Alison admitted.
“See if they’ve got the same thing in black,” Helen suggested.
“Good idea.” She smiled. “Thanks.”
“Though, if you ask me, you’d be better off putting your money in potato chips.”
Alison held the blue nightie until Celia, searching the rack, came up with a black one in the same style. “Great,” Celia said. “Perfect.”
Alison hooked the hanger over the rail, then unhooked it and looked again at the garment. The blue was deep, bright, and shiny. She caressed the fabric. It felt slick, and clung to her hand. She wondered how it would feel on her, how it would look. She had never owned anything like this. She raised her eyes. Celia and Helen were both staring at her. She grinned.
“Blue boobs,” Helen warned.
“I can live with it,” she said.
Celia grinned. “A little something just in case Evan comes through?”
“What happened to your vow of chastity?” Helen asked.
“This has nothing to do with it,” Alison said.
“Oh, no?”
As they left the shop with their purchases, Alison offered to carry Celia’s bag.
“Yeah,” Helen said. “Take it off her hands. Something like that, it must weigh a ton.”
“Maybe you should’ve bought one,” Celia told her.
“Ready to go?” Helen asked, ignoring the remark.
“We just got here.”
She curled her upper lip. There were sparkles of sweat above it. She had to be suffering, Alison thought, trapped inside that heavy raincoat.
“Maybe we should go,” Alison said.
“I just want to be fair to you guys,” Celia explained. “Poor Helen needs to ogle the puppies and hit the doughnut shop, and you want to check out the bookstore, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Alison told her. “I think one of us is melting.”
“I’m all right,” Helen said, though clearly she wasn’t.
Celia grinned. “That perked you up—doughnuts, maple bars, bear claws, chocolate eclairs…”
“I could sure use a soda,” she admitted.
With Helen in the lead, they headed across the concourse toward the wing of the mall where the food stands were located.
“Salutations,” someone said from behind them.
They turned around.
It was the weird kid. Though Alison didn’t know his name and had never spoken with him, she had noticed him around the campus. He was impossible not to notice, the strange clothes he wore and the way he parted his hair in the middle. Right now, he was wearing a garish sport jacket and a T-shirt with a gash spilling blood and entrails printed on its front. He was clutching a bag from Spartan Sporting Goods.
“You’re Celia Jamerson, right?” he asked. “I saw you in
“Thanks,” Celia said.
“You probably don’t remember me.”
“You’re Jason’s friend, aren’t you?”
He grinned, his thin lips stretching away from big, crooked teeth. “I’m his roommate, Roland. Anyway, I was just wondering if you’re okay. What happened, were you in an accident?”
“I had a little mishap on my bike.”
“Gosh, I’m sorry.” His gaze traveled sideways to Alison and slid down her body, then returned to Celia. “I hope it wasn’t serious,” he said.
“Well, thank you. I’ll be all right. How’s Jason?”
“Oh, he’s fine. He’ll be trying out for the spring play. I know he’s hoping you’ll be in it.”
“I don’t know. Auditions are next week. I’m pretty banged up.”
“That’s awful.” He looked again at Alison. She felt an urge to pull her jacket shut. “Anyway, I’d better get going. Hope you’re feeling better.”
“Thanks,” Celia said. “See you around.”
He turned and walked away.
Alison realized she had been holding her breath as if afraid of inhaling a disease.
“What a dream boat,” Helen said.
“A nightmare boat,” Alison muttered. “I feel like I need a bath.”
“He sure looked us over.”
Alison hadn’t seen him looking Helen over, but she kept her mouth shut.
Celia shrugged. “It was nice of him to be concerned about me.”
“Play your cards right,” Helen told her, “maybe he’ll ask you out. How’d you like to model your new nightie for him?”
“Gimme a break.”
With Helen in the lead, they walked toward the food area. Alison still felt a little squirmy. Though there wasn’t much similarity between them, Roland somehow reminded her of Prince Charming, the crazed, filthy man she’d seen yesterday afternoon at Gabby’s.
They stopped at one of the refreshment stands. Helen ordered a drink and a hot dog. Alison and Celia each ordered sodas. They found a vacant table in the middle of the concourse and sat down.
Poking her straw through the plastic lid of her drink, Alison could almost see Roland leering at her. “What a creep,” she muttered.
“He gives new meaning,” said Helen, “to the expression ‘nasty slimy yuck.’”
Celia grinned. “Yeah, but his roomy’s not half bad.”
“He the guy who played the gentleman caller?” Alison asked.
“That’s the one.”
“If he’s so wonderful,” Helen asked, squeezing a thick trail of mustard across her hot dog, “how come you haven’t added him to your list?”
“For godsake, he’s a
“Shouldn’t let a little thing like that stop you.”
“You kidding? I’d never live it down, it got around I was seeing a frosh. Besides, he’s already going with some gal.”
“So,” Helen said, “it’s not that he’s a freshman. Just that somebody else has dibs on him.”
“Gimme a break. He’d drop her like a hot spud if I gave him the ol’ look.”
Helen took a big bite out of her hot dog. Mustard dribbled down her chin. Wiping the mustard off with the back of a hand, she said to Alison in a muffled voice, “Don’t you just adore modesty in a person?”
“Hell,” Alison said, “she’s probably right.”
“Not that I intend to give Jason the ol’ look,” Celia pointed out. “Like I said, he’s a freshman.”
Helen licked the mustard smear off the back of her hand. “Maybe you could date him incognito. Wear Groucho glasses.”
“He’s got to have a personality defect,” Alison said, “if he pals around with that weirdo.”
Celia grinned. “Can’t judge a person by his roommates. Shit, look at
CHAPTER NINE
