Velvet | Teen Ink

Velvet

May 4, 2014
By Anonymous

Velvet



It looked nothing short of stunning. I need that dress, I’d kill for that dress, Ada thought. It seemed to shine among the others, practically calling to her from the rack of prom dresses, begging her to carry it out of Noveau. A few blonde girls in huge sunglasses had just flitted past her like Louis Vuitton donned butterflies, snickering at nothing in particular. She immediately tensed up. She was anything but a butterfly. Ada was… fierce. At least that’s what she liked to think.

She’d really be fierce if she strutted into prom wearing the royal blue, long sleeved, mermaid gown. Her cleavage would look amazing beneath the flattering velvet bust. Haha. She had decided not to bother with finding a date; every guy she knew was either taken or simply made her want to barf if she thought about the idea.

Feeling the overbearing weight of the emptiness in her pocket, Ada hurriedly decided on what she had to do. Her heart banged against her ribcage like her father’s palms against her great-grandfather’s tribal drum. The one each generation had passed down to the next.
If only daddy knew what you’re contemplating right now… you’d be sent to Ghana to learn a lesson in a heartbeat. Shuttup, she thought to herself. Just DO it. For some reason, the small (but freaking expensive) outlet hadn’t installed metal detectors at the door.
Looking around to make sure that no one was paying her any mind, Ada grabbed the dress off of it’s wooden hanger, dived behind a rack of scarves and shoved it into her purse.
Pulse rate at an alarming staccato, she rushed toward the exit, her purse seeming to weigh a ton. This was exhilarating. The dress was going to be hers!
Just as her petite, brown hand reached for the glass door, a voice like baby thunder made her jump, heat rushing to her face.
“Hey! Stop, I saw that. Come here please,” motioning towards himself.
Ada spun around to face an athletically built young man in dark jeans and a black polo shirt labelled “security”.
Oh s***. Now you’ve done it, b****.
My Math?


Ada’s voice shook, thankful that he was at least being lowkey; no one else in the store had noticed them. “I- I’ll put it back. Sorry.”

The guy looked at her with the same look she gave her puppy, Coco, when she begged to get in bed with her at night. His denim blue eyes looked at her up and down as his mouth twisted as if he was deep in thought.

“Look, I’ll pay for the dress and you can go -- no consequences.”

Ada’s thick, arched brows shot up in shock. She was extremely skeptical. “Why?”

The boy looked down at her with amusement and folded his muscular, tan arms together. “You don’t seem like the stealing type. What’s up?”

He was so genuine and… nice. What the hell. Ada felt an immediate attachment. She wanted to tell him… everything.

But he was a stranger. That would be weird. Besides, it was the wrong place under the wrong circumstances.

“Um, look, I’ll go put the dress back and leave okay?”

“Wait--”, he bit his bottom lip and ruffled his sandy tresses. “Can I get your, ah, math before you go?”

Ada paused for a moment, cocking her head. Was this guy hitting on her? And did he just refer to her number as math?

She guffawed. “You don’t need to use corny slang on me because I’m black, dude.”

He blinked, his face burning a slight crimson. “Uh…”
Ada walked past him, discreetly putting the dress back.

On her second way out, she pulled a green sharpie pen out of her tribal print tote and scribbled her name and number on his tan forearm. She giggled as he flexed his arm as she wrote.
“Bye...uh?”
“Owen. Bye, Ada,” he smiled a big koolaid grin in her direction as she floated out of Noveau, a butterfly.



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