This was Theresa’s kind of thrift store. There was no concrete floor, no glazed fluorescent lighting, just the snug feeling of a boutique. Of course, that’s why people went to buffalo exchange, aside from the amazing deals.

                The shopping trip was another one of Rachelle’s ideas to cheer Theresa up. So here they were, just after lunch during the afternoon gap in classes. The shop was almost entirely empty and the shopping racks were completely full, a perfect combination.

                Theresa walked a few feet away from Rachelle and started thumbing through a rack of olive green denim jackets. She stopped on a vintage style, the olive was fading to yellow, her brother had one like this, but he never let her wear it. She pulled it off the rack and held it to her torso, “what do you think?” She asked Rachelle.

                Rachelle cocked her head to the side and “hmmm”d. After a few seconds of silence, Theresa got the hint “not really my color anyway,” she said putting it back on the rack.

                Her task completed, Rachelle turned back to a row of hemp skirts while Theresa moved over to a rack of jeans. She thumbed through before stopping cold. Theresa reached in and pulled out a pair of light blue jeans; her eyes lit up. They were “PRVCY” and looked like her size!

                She flipped them over to study the tag and almost dropped the jeans clapping her hands in excitement. Rachelle looked over, “what?” she asked.

                Theresa let the jeans fall to the floor, “nothing,” she said nonchalantly. Rachelle eyed her suspiciously before turning back to her search.

                When she was satisfied that Rachelle wasn’t looking, Theresa knelt and felt the smooth denim in her fingers. She glanced at the tag and pursed her lips, they were a six and Theresa’s snug jeans she was wearing were a seven.

                She contemplated putting them back on the rack, but her eyes found the price tag again. Fifteen dollars? She was sure she’d seen these pants in her “Cosmo” for over a hundred. The deal was too good, she had to have them. Besides, she thought, she needed motivation to keep going to the gym. The thought of walking down campus turning heads and finally showing up Jerome made her smile. True, he wouldn’t be there, but it would be revenge enough.

                There was no way she could buy them with Rachelle there. Rachelle would fawn and say they were too small. They were too small, but that was no reason not to buy them, not with so many spectacular benefits to owning them. She tucked the jeans inside the rack and pretended to shop a few more minutes.

                “I need to head out,” she said, when she was certain no one would discover her treasure. Rachelle was done looking by this point and they left the store together. But later, Theresa thought, I’ll come back.

                The gym always smelled like old sweat, Theresa wrinkled her nose. She walked through the entrance past the attendant playing angry birds at the desk and onto the springy black composite floor of the free weight section.

                Most of the gym was empty except for two football players spotting each other on the bench press. As the spotter cast a glance her direction, Theresa felt her face flush. When the spotter looked away she attempted to adjust her black workout pants to no avail.

                Her hair was pristine and pulled back in a ponytail. Her pink and black stretchy workout shirt felt tighter than usual. The bench presser had finished his set and now was nonchalantly glancing her direction. Theresa ruefully thought back to her vacation and the oodles of Christmas cookies made by Jerome’s mother, she knew it would be a bad idea.

                When the bench presser and the spotter switched places, Theresa hurried to the far side of the gym where the elliptical machines lined the wall. A fluorescent light over the cardio machines flickered intermittently making the black walls seem darker than usual.

                Theresa hopped onto the machine and adjusted the settings before selecting Tik Tok on her pink iPod Nano. As Ke$ha started singing about bottles of jack, Theresa shut her eyes and started moving ever so slightly to the music. When she had a solid rhythm she pressed start on the elliptical machine and started running.

                The machine cycled ploddingly at first and then began picking up speed. Theresa let out a long held breath and kept up the pace, all the while her eyes wandered around the gym. The two free-weight lifters finished their set and walked towards the showers, as they entered the locker room they cast a final look her direction.

                Theresa didn’t respond the embarrassment from before returned, but by now she was focusing on her workout. It remained like a nagging doubt in her mind that refused to surface. Theresa continued for several minutes when she heard the gym door open and saw a small crowd enter.

                There were at least ten of them, all dressed in blue and red jumpsuits, the volleyball team. As they walked towards her they laughed together. Theresa rolled her eyes; did the team only take blonde bombshells? That much peroxide couldn’t be a coincidence.

                The swarm made its way to Theresa’s side of the gym, when they were ten feet away the group went silent. No one looked Theresa’s direction, no one spoke, and the laughter became smirks as the team climbed onto the vacant machines.

                Theresa tried to focus on the run, but it was hopeless. They were all so perfect looking, it wasn’t fair! They kept looking knowingly her direction before turning back to each other and speaking in whispers. Theresa never caught them doing it, but she knew they were.

                When the elliptical machine hit twenty minutes Theresa immediately pressed the stop button and hopped down. As soon as she left her machine, the volleyball player on the end walked down and took her place. Theresa walked toward the locker room and paused to look back. They look like a Baywatch squad she laughed to herself.

                With resignation she walked into the locker room, she still had to study tonight.

                It was the whale that fascinated Theresa the most, that massive whale (of what kind Theresa couldn’t say) leaping out of the water and frozen in time before the earth came crashing back. Underneath was the word “determination” in big blue letters.

                The only sound in the admissions office was the tapping of the advisor on the keyboard. Theresa sat, her hands in her lap, and fidgeted nervously with her fingers.

                The advisor took a sip from the coffee she had no doubt purchased from the college’s “Free Trade” coffee shop. Her hair hung in long waves to her elbows, covering her numerous ear piercings. The ring in her nose was still visible, as was the tattoo on her neck, a small patch of leopard print.

                Her blouse was hemp, and her olive green loose-fitting skirt hung just over her knees. Under the desk, red toms tapped impatiently on the ground. The advisor turned her pale green eyes on Theresa and stopped typing, “So what do you want to do?”

                “I don’t know,” Theresa ventured cautiously, “I’m a business major right now…”

                The advisor rolled her eyes, but didn’t interrupt as Theresa continued.               

                “I just don’t enjoy it that much…I thought it might be a time to change majors.”

                The advisor nodded and began tapping again. “You’ve finished your general eds, was there anything you liked?”
                Theresa thought for a moment. “I liked Geography…and comm…”

                Another sip of the free-trade latte and the advisor shivered and stopped typing, “you could try poli-sci,” she suggested, “social work maybe? Do you think you’d like teaching?”

                Theresa shook her head. “I don’t know.”
                “I’m signing you up for modern political thought…child psychology…what about a sport?”

                “That’s not really my thing,” Theresa ventured.

                “You have to take something…what about basketball?”

                Theresa didn’t respond she was thinking. She liked watching basketball, but playing? The advisor seemed to notice her pause and leaned forward. “Can I say something?”

                Theresa nodded.

                “You’re a sophomore in college and you’ve already finished your gen eds. I think you need to live a little bit, try a class. If you don’t like it, you can always switch. You’re only going to be in college once.”          

                Theresa chewed her lower lip and nodded. “Ok,” she said, “I’ll try it.”

                “Sooo…what happened?”
                Theresa fidgeted with her hands under the table while Rachelle took another sip of her orange smoothie. Outside the blizzard continued, Theresa glance back at the table and her peppermint mocha with wilting whipped cream on top. She glanced curiously at Rachelle, if drinking the frozen drink on such a cold day bothered her she didn’t show it.

                The choice of drink was as obscure as her clothing. Rachelle was sporting a medium-length tan skirt, sweater, and ugg boots. The fashion had been dubbed: eskiho by Theresa when she had seen it first, but Rachelle insisted.

                Theresa might have continued her musing for several more minutes and stalled the inevitable question, but Rachelle’s cup crashing into the table broke her concentration. “Hey! Quit ignoring me.”
                Theresa raised the mocha to her lips and took a sip. This was not a conversation she wanted to have. She might have wanted to talk, but Rachelle was being so demanding and why did she have to dress that way? It made Theresa feel like a skank.

                It was another few moments before Theresa gave in. “Well…I went to his parent’s house for dinner Christmas eve.”

                Rachelle raised an eyebrow, “and…”

                Theresa felt her lip tremble, as she thought the words the memories came flooding back. “And I had his present all wrapped and we sat down for dinner and there was a ring at the doorbell.” The tears were starting to well up now. “He went to the door and when he came back…” her voice trailed off. Everything had been so perfect until.

                Rachelle waited a few seconds before motioning with her hands, “what?”

                “He had Bethany with him.”

                Rachelle’s hand went to her mouth. “His ex-girlfriend?”

                Theresa’s tears were falling fast now, “and no one said anything. He kissed her on the side of the head and then everything just spun and I left as fast as I could.”

                “Did he say anything?”

                Theresa nodded. “He sent me a text. Apparently they got back together and he wanted to tell me there…he thought it’d be easiest.” As Theresa let out a sob, Rachelle jumped to her feet. “We’re going home right now,” she said soothingly. Rachelle guided the distraught Theresa out the door to her car.

                The snow continued to fly, but Rachelle ignored it until they were both inside her Miata with the heater running. The car was drowned in silence as Rachelle  backed out of the parking lot and started home. All the while, Theresa couldn’t stop crying.