[Alex's POV - At the shopping district]

  "Ok, where do you want to start?" I ask once we are standing in the middle of the local shopping district.

  "I don't know! Isn't that why you're here?" Otto asks as she shifts her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot.

  "Didn't you grow up here?" I joke, but Otto looks away in shame.

  Oh boy. Because of her revelation earlier, it feels like the mist has cleared. I can read her like an open book. Not that it helps with her awkwardness towards me.

  It is disheartening to know that if Jasper had made the same joke, Otto might have laughed, or even made a clever remark of her own. I think it is safe to conclude that she still doesn't feel at ease around me. Maybe it's better to focus on the task at hand?

  "What kind of clothes are you looking for?" I ask.

  "What kind?" Otto echoes while she looks at me as if she wants to ask in return why I am asking such difficult questions.

  "Yes, what kind," I repeat patiently. "You know, ... Like dresses, pants, T-shirts, sweaters... um, casual, formal?"

  "All of the above, I guess," she concludes indecisively.

  "That doesn't exactly narrow it down," I chuckle. I'm starting to see why Jessy didn't want to accompany her. "Ok, ... What about that store? They have a little of everything."

  Otto nods and she follows me as I lead the way.

  [Otto's POV - Inside the store]

  I can't believe my eyes. The inside of this store is massive! I don't know where to look first. It is hard to believe that the floor Alex guided me to is "just the female department"!

  "Shall I help you pick clothes?" Alex asks as he starts looking through a rack packed with clothes on hangers.

  "Definitely not," I say resolute.

  "What?! Why not?!" he asks incredulously.

  "I bet you'd have me wear something ridiculous."

  Alex snorts.

  "Let me guess, Jasper had you wear a pink catsuit. Oh! No! I know. Tyrolean pants with white socks and leather sandals," he jokes.

  "It was Jessy. And it was a pink push-up bra," I say matter-of-factly, not thinking much of it, until I hear his awkward chuckle.

  Why is he laughing? Have I said something funny?

  "You're joking, right?" he asks once our eyes meet. But I hadn't been joking. I instantly feel my cheeks burn. Only now do I realise how embarrassing what I'd said really was.

  "Please forget what I said," I say hurriedly.

  Oh no! Now he's looking at me with pity, which only makes me feel more embarrassed. An escape route! I need an escape route!

  "Oh, look! What a pretty dress! I'll go try that on," I say as I grab the first piece of clothing that catches my eye on a nearby rack and rush off towards the dressing room.

  [Alex's POV - Inside the dressing room]

  I feel guilty.

  It is clear to me that Otto ran away earlier because she was feeling embarrassed. I shouldn't have laughed. But her answer had really thrown me off.

  At first, I thought she'd said it as a witty come-back to trip me up, but then I realised she'd told me the truth.

  "Otto? Are you in there?” I call out loud enough for her to hear me, even if she’s not in the booth I’m standing at. Following her to the dressing rooms was easy. Figuring out which cubicle she darted into? Not so much. All fourteen were occupied, and my attempts to identify her feet under the curtains earned me a few disapproving glances.

  "Don’t come in!” she yelps from inside the booth I picked.

  Thank heavens, I picked the right one. I sigh in relief but clear my throat awkwardly when I notice the woman in front of the neighboring cubicle giving me a curious glance.

  "I wasn't going to," I say in what I hope is a reassuring voice. "Did you try on the dress?"

  "I did," she says.

  "Really? Can I see?"

  "No!" she yelps again. I stare at the curtain of the dressing booth for a second. Her straight out refusal hurts. She's acting as if I am some kind of monster that pounces on every opportunity to humiliate the people around me.

  I need to calm down. She is only acting skittish because I laughed at her earlier. I only have myself to blame. So I take a deep breath to calm myself.

  "Look, Otto," I say seriously. "I'm a little confused as to why I'm here. You don't want my help to pick clothes, and now you don't want my opinion on the ones you pick either?"

  It's quiet inside the dressing booth for a few heartbeats.

  "But... I grabbed the wrong size... and now the dress looks ridiculous," she mumbles quietly. Had she really been in such a hurry to get away from me? Yeah, that definitely makes me feel worse.

  "Would you like me to bring you another size?" I ask.

  "Yes, please... But I'm afraid that I don't know which size it should be," she says a little more coherently now. "The last time I went shopping with Jessy, a size 36 fitted me, but that was for a roomy sweater, so maybe it is even smaller."

  "No problem. I’ll grab a couple of sizes,” I say, smiling softly, and hurry off.

  When I return, I pass the sweaters through the curtain.

  “Here you go, I took the liberty of bringing the matching sweater too.”

  "Thank you!" she says gratefully as she accepts the dresses and quickly busies herself with trying them on. I patiently wait until she gives me some kind of feedback, but she stays busy inside the dressing booth.

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  "Are you alright in there?" I ask, curious to know why she seems to be wriggling and grunting so much.

  "I- I'm fine," she says nervously as she abruptly stops moving altogether. She clearly isn't fine. And why does her voice sound so muffled?

  "You know I'm here to help, right?" I say, proud of myself that I sound only a little bit annoyed.

  "I know," she says in a quiet, muffled voice again. Is it my imagination or does she sound defeated? While I'm pondering her words, a delicate hand wrapped in a warm looking, cream-coloured, knitted sleeve appears at the edge of the curtain. The hand slides the curtain aside just far enough for me to look inside. A dark blue eye peaks at me from within the collar of the knitted sweater.

  “Actually, Alex, can you help me please? My earring got stuck in the collar and I can’t see what I’m doing.”

  “O! Of course! Let me see,” I say as I take a step into the dressing booth, peel the collar down until I can see her ear and manage to free her earring from some threads which it had gotten tangled in.

  “There!” I say as I take a step back. I watch her as she pulls the sweater further down over her head and frowns as she grapples for the elastic that had been holding her hair up in a bun, but got completely disheveled because of the ordeal. She pulls the elastic from her hair and her long blond hair tumbles well past her shoulders.

  I swallow. I had known that Otto is a pretty girl, but uniforms are mandatory at school and so is wearing long hair in a ponytail. She looks much softer with her loose waves. Even the messy bun she’d worn this morning changed her appearance completely.

  She huffs as she glares at the offending sweater in the mirror and says “Thanks.” as her eyes meet mine briefly.

  “Do you like it?” I ask cautiously. I wouldn’t be surprised if she discarded the whole sweater all together now that she’d gotten stuck in it. But instead she turn her body left to right, moves her arms in a few awkward stretching positions and finally shoot me a smile in the mirror.

  “Yes, I love it! I’m definitely buying it,” she says, clearly pleased for having found something so perfect so fast. The cream-coloured sweater with a soft cable-knit pattern is roomy and looks a little large on her, with her sleeves falling to her knuckles, but somehow it makes her look soft and cute. I guess that’s the style she’s going for.

  “It looks cute on you. What about the dress? How does it fit?” I ask as I study the skirt peeking from underneath the sweater, but since the sweater reaches onto her hips and the dress barely reaches past her knees, there’s not much to go by. I do take note of the white sneakers she is wearing and make a mental note to grab some leggings later.

  “It fits. I’ll be buying it too,” she says. I give her a sideways glare.

  “Sorry, but… considering you’d even grabbed the wrong size earlier, I’d like to confirm that.”

  In reply, shy blushes brightly, but starts to pull off her sweater. Now the long-sleeved, khaki A-line dress comes into view, but it looks much too tight, hogging every inch of her figure.

  “Is this the 36 I brought? Or the 34?”

  “The 34.”

  “I’d like you to try that one on too. You’re still growing after all. This dress might fit you now, but you’ll burst out of it soon.”

  She doesn’t answer, but I notice her nod from the corner of my eye. When I look up, I notice that she is blushing bright red.

  "Calm down," I say with a gentle smile. "Why are you so nervous? Is this related to the extremely handsome thing?"

  "No, actually. It's more of a boy-sees-girl-changing-clothes kind of situation," she admits quietly.

  "Ah? Ha, ha! That does make a lot more sense," I laugh and add with a wink: "Except for the fact that I'll be on that side of the curtain when you actually change."

  She flushes an even brighter shade of red when my words register. Was it still too early to joke around? Well, back to focusing on finding clothes.

  "Go on. Try on the bigger size," I say as I head back out of the booth and close the curtain.

  Not five minutes later, the curtain flies open again, revealing Otto once more in a decently fitting khaki dress this time. She seems overjoyed.

  "You were right, this size fits me much better!"

  "I’m glad you like it," I say with a friendly smile and watch as she twirls around in front of the mirror, a heavenly smile dances on her lips and the lights of the dressing booth dance in her deep blue eyes. It’s rare to see Otto this carefree. Smiling suits her. She definitely needs to smile more.

  "Do you think they’ll let me wear it?" she asks.

  I frown at her question.

  "Well, of course! Isn't that the whole point of shopping?" I ask, she blushes and her smile dampens.

  "What I meant was; Do you think they'll mind if I keep it on while I pay for it?" she clarifies.

  "Oh!" I laugh in surprise. "Don't be ridiculous! We still have to fit lots of other clothes."

  "Well, yeah... but..." she mumbled, her spirit dampening more and more. She reminds me of someone who crossed the desert and is denied access to the oasis.

  "Do you really like it that much?"

  She nods.

  "Well, I guess you can change into it after we pay for it," her smile brightens instantly again, so I quickly add: "But first you have to fit more clothes!"

  "Okay," she chimes happily.