"You're taking forever," Nico calls from outside of the dressing room as if he's not the one who brought me here.

"I don't understand the point of this," I say as I try on my third lacy bra. They all look the same to me, to be honest. I don't even like lace. "I'm not going to wear this for a guy."

"It's not for a guy, dummy. It's for you. Body empowerment or whatever." I can hear him shuffling around outside, probably looking for another associate to flirt with.

"Body empowerment, my ass," I mutter as I look at myself in the mirror. My boobs actually look existent, which never happens, and my ass cheeks are basically fully out but I have to admit, it is kind of empowering. Always wearing baggy clothes has made me forget I have a waistline.

"It's not wrong to wanna look hot," he says.

I start changing. "I don't look hot. I look dumb," I mumble as I slip into the first nightgown. It's hot pink, which is already a red flag.

"I'm sure it looks fine," he says dismissively.

I grimace. "I look like a kid trying to be a stripper."

"Well, that's disturbing. Geez, Cho, it can't be that bad. Don't be fucking dramatic."

"Dramatic? I'm dramatic?"

"Yes! I've never met someone as offended by everything as you. I-"

"Shut up, Nico!" I exclaim finally, pushing the curtain aside ready to yell at him, but my voice trails off when I catch his gaze on me. His jaw clenches as he stares through his lashes, taking in every inch of exposed skin. My face starts to heat up at his gaze and, for a second, I'm frozen.

I snap out of it, closing the curtains. "I told you I look dumb," I say as I reach for my original clothes, fanning my face.

"Not... the word that came to mind," he responds in a strained voice. He clears his throat. "Just hand me the ones you wanna keep."

"You don't seriously think I'm gonna spend money on these."

"It's on me," he says. "I found my wallet in my locker and I'm the one who made you come here so..."

I step out, holding the pile of undergarments in my hands. "I can't let you spend all that on me," I say. Where the hell am I going to wear these? School? The thought makes me scoff.

"You know I love using daddy's money," he says and smiles. "Besides, this way I don't ever have to witness whatever mess you were wearing last night." He grabs the pile from me and his smile falters when he sees my expression.

Suddenly serious, he stares at me until I look up at him. "Jennie, if you're uncomfortable, we'll walk out of here right now but if it's because you think you look bad, you're wrong," he says.

I don't know why I believe that he's telling the truth but I do. That's what makes boys like Nico so dangerous.

"Ok," I find myself agreeing. "I'm sorry for telling you to shut up."

He shrugs. "I deserved it. I didn't mean what I said. I mean, you do get offended, but that's because you don't take bullshit." His eyes stay trained on me. "I respect that."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, well, you better watch yourself from now on. Like I said, we're not friends, Accardi."

He smiles. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Cho."

---

We end up going in and out of those trendy stores that I never go into because I refuse to buy fast fashion before settling on a clothes shop. Nico sips on the smoothie that I bought him, which doesn't even compare to what he spent on lingerie.

Even after saying "thank you" so many times he threatened to tape my mouth shut, I feel guilty. Also, who just carries around that much cash in their wallet? When I tell him that doesn't seem very responsible, all he does is shrug and say, "I'm never responsible."

As my hands sift through the racks, I find myself being drawn to the men's section more and more.

"You lost, babygirl?" A voice whispers against my ear. I jump back in shock, nearly dropping my clothes, as Nico laughs at his lame attempt to scare me.

"You're a child," I say, shaking my head.

His gaze flickers to the clothes in my hand and he grimaces. "I knew that you would be like this," he says. Carelessly, he grabs the clothes out of my hands and piles them on top of a random rack. Before I can protest, he drags me away.

---

When I step out of the dressing room, he immediately busts out in laughter.

"You flatter me," I say flatly. Why did I even let him choose my clothes?

"The clothes aren't the problem. Your face is," he says, still amused.

My eyes flash. "Do you want to get punched?"

Unaffected by my threats, he walks over to me and lifts my lips into a smile with his fingers. "Try not to look like you wanna kill someone."

I swat his fingers away. "Get your dirty hands off of me."

"Loosen up, Cho. Do a spin," he suggests.

"You can't be serious."

"Come on. Please?"

Begrudgingly, I stomp in a circle.

His face freezes. "Okaaayyy. Let's try something else. Pose or something."

I stand there awkwardly and Nico studies me, neither of us moving. Finally, he says, "In 7th grade, I drew a dick with a glue stick on the board and when Mr. Potts went to wipe it off, he got white stuff all over his hands."

"What?" I ask, taken aback, and start to laugh at the ridiculousness.

He grins with satisfaction. "That's better," he says. "Now go try on the rest so we can go home."

"It's MY home," I say as I walk back in, shaking my head.

---

After buying bags of clothes, driving across town to get a new haircut, and grabbing McDonald's, we finally head back. "Don't you need to try on your clothes?" I ask as I unlock my car.

"Nope," he says with a smile. "Everything looks good on me."

Rolling my eyes, I mess around with my new hair in the reflection of my car window. My entire life, random Korean grandmas have cut my hair in the same fashion, just a trim. The blond in the front strands of my hair is the result of my own bleaching concoction when I was bored. It now lays in curtain bangs, shorter layers in the front, and longer layers in the back, just over my shoulders, courtesy of the Accardi hairdresser.

Nico catches my hand in his as I continue to brush my hair, unused to it. "Stop that," he says. I feel myself stiffen as our eyes meet.

I expect him to move away but he doesn't. Instead, he reaches out, catching a strand of my hair between his fingers, his silver rings glinting in the sun like his eyes. Suddenly, I don't know how to breathe.

"Huh," is all he says, his eyes shifting over me, before letting go. The easy smile returns to his face as he walks to my passenger seat.

For some reason, this action leaves me speechless and stuck to the floor like there are weights on my feet. I'm not even thinking about my hair anymore, just long fingers and blue-gray eyes.

"You good?" Nico asks from the passenger seat.

"Yes!" I blurt out. "Let's just go." Not making eye contact, I slip into the driver's seat and put in the key.

I swear, there's something wrong with me.

A/N: HAPPY FRIDAY! I feel like this week has been SO long. thank u for reading and don't forget to vote and comment if u like :))