“Of course it does.”
My face contorts with disgust, and I press a hand to my mouth as I shake my head. This is the most awkward thing I’ve ever experienced. In fear of these people glancing down and seeing my feet through the opening at the bottom of the divider, I silently step up onto the chair. I’d try to leave without them ever knowing I was here, but the thought of me making a sound and them discovering my presence is keeping me glued to the spot. I tilt my head to the side and let my eyes fall to the floor. They may not be able to see my feet, but I can certainly see theirs. Sky-blue flats and brown boots.
“Tyler,” the girl gasps as she pulls her lips away, “we’re not doing that here.”
I don’t know what it is that they’re not doing here, but I do know that those brown boots and the voice and the name Tyler click in my mind all at once. Please, God, no.
It’s then that I almost throw up, and it’s also then that I hear Rachael call, “Eden, are you still in here?”
Without waiting a second longer, I snatch the clothes from the wall and leap off the chair, throwing open the curtain and fixing Rachael with a frantic stare. I make my way toward her, half jogging as I wave my hand around in an attempt to let her know that we need to get the hell out of here.
“Shhh,” the girl says sharply, and then, louder, “Who’s here?”
I try to push Rachael out the door, but she stops. “Tiffani?”
“Rachael?” The curtain of the cubicle next to mine slides open, and a tall, platinum-blond girl takes a step out. Her cheeks flush with color and she bites her lip. Half the buttons on her blouse are undone. “Um, I didn’t know anyone was in here.”
Clearly, I think.
“What are you doing?” Rachael asks, raising her eyebrows suspiciously. “Tyler, are you there too?” We wait for a response.
“Yeah, I’m here.” Tyler steps out around the curtain just as he’s pulling on a faded gray T-shirt, then he runs his hand through his hair. Admittedly, he looks a lot better than he did in the early hours of the morning. “Ever heard of privacy?”
“Ever heard of not hooking up in the middle of American Apparel?” Rachael shoots back, her voice even, nose wrinkling. “That’s gross.”
Tiffani’s eyes fall to the floor. Her brows are perfectly arched, her cheekbones high and her lips plump. At first she appears abashed at being discovered, but then her expression hardens as she quickly closes up the buttons on her blouse. I have to look away.
“What the hell are you guys even doing here?” Tyler asks, locking his attention on me. His sharp eyes fix on me for several seconds, and a shiver surges down my spine as I worry about what he might say next.
“Trying on clothes,” Rachael answers tersely, “which is a normal thing to do in fitting rooms.”
Tiffani throws her a death glare before locking her eyes on me, clearly pissed off. She tilts her head. “And you are?”
“Eden,” I murmur. I’m struggling to meet her eyes, partially because I feel so small and partially because the circumstances are awkward. I look to Tyler instead. “His stepsister.”
“You have a stepsister?” Tiffani’s tone softens only briefly as her eyebrows knit together. She flashes her eyes at Tyler.
He just shrugs. “Apparently.”
She blinks at him for a few seconds, as though a stepsister is some sort of mythical creature that only exists in fairy tales. When she eventually comes to terms with it, she glances back over to me, her eyes narrowed. Her tone is sour. “Why were you in here? Were you spying on us?”
“Chill, babe,” Tyler tells her, saving me from having to muster up an answer, and reaches for her arm. “It’s not even a big deal. Stop tripping out.”
Tiffani’s eyes grow wide as she parts her lips, appalled at his lack of care. She folds her arms across her chest and sulks. “I’m just saying.”
“Yeah, well, don’t,” he says. He presses his lips together, shrugs again. “She doesn’t care. Let’s just go. I need to go to Levi’s.” He throws his arm impatiently over her shoulders and pulls her against his body, but she heaves a sigh and stands her ground, pausing to meet Rachael’s eyes.
“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” she tells her. “You’re still coming to the beach, right?”
“Yeah,” Rachael says, glancing at me. In that second I know exactly what she’s thinking, and I pray she doesn’t say it out loud. But, of course, she does. “Eden can come too, right?”
Ugh.
Tiffani’s features harden again as she exhales slowly, evidently having a mock debate with herself on whether or not she should allow the intruder to invade her beach plans. Eventually, she murmurs, “I guess.”