After a few days of lounging around the house I felt myself itching to go out. I felt like I would be wasting my newly-altered body by laying around. Although it seemed vain to want to show it off, and narcissistic to think anyone should want to see it, the idea of presenting myself to the world felt right.

The vintage store was within walking distance, so I made my way there and immediately noticed that something was different. There was no longer that unsettling sense that I didn’t belong. I could take all the time I wanted to look over the racks of clothes and not feel like I was intruding, or wonder who I thought I was fooling by being here.

Since it was starting to get cold, I realized I would need some warmer clothes. I started with the long-sleeved shirts and quickly spotted one with frilly lace on the chest and cuffs. It sat on a rack of various colored button-down shirts seemingly in defiance of the drab sameness of most men’s fashion. Clutching it close so that the clerk wouldn’t see, I rushed to the changing room to try it on.

It was a size smaller than the shirts I usually wore, so it fit tightly around my body, but as I looked in the mirror I couldn’t help but wonder at how small it made me look. The lace at the cuffs seemed to draw attention to everything I did with my hands and make it all look delicate and graceful. I had always assumed that a shirt like this couldn’t possibly be my style. But, I realized, until now I had never known what my style was. Prior to my abduction, my parents had purchased all of my clothes for me during boring shopping trips in which my mother had picked out articles and shown them to me, eliciting at best an unenthusiastic “I guess.” My shopping with Bliss had just been a fast-forwarded version of one of those shopping trips, with me quickly selecting the types of things that would have been chosen for me. Was I just now, in my early thirties, learning how to dress myself?

I reluctantly changed back into my other shirt and stepped out of the changing room, finding myself face-to-face with a girl.

“Oh!” she said with surprise. “Ross, right?”

It was Marizafel. Or Mary, as she preferred to be called. I had met her a couple of times, during group hangouts with Anise and her friends, but had never spoken more than a few words to her. Of course, those visits had occurred in the Enclave where her now-brown eyes and glowed red and a pair of horns had poked up from underneath her silky red hair. I wondered whether changing shape was a natural demon ability or if she had purchased some sort of enchanted item.

“Hi, Mary.” I felt like I needed to say something more. “I was just trying on a shirt.”

She reached for it and I let her take it. She held it by the shoulders and examined it.

“It’s not really your usual style, but it’s cute.” I felt a twinge of excitement at the word “cute.”

“I’ve been thinking about trying something different.”

“You’ll look good in it. You should buy it,” she said definitively. If I hadn’t already decided I wanted it, hearing those words from her would have settled it.

“I’ll get Bliss to come back with me later so I can get it.”

She cocked her head. “You can’t get it now?”

“I don’t have any money,” I admitted. “Or a job.”

She shrugged. “I get it. You were in space for a long time. You’re still getting your Earth legs back. Well, in that case I’m buying this for you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I reached for the shirt, but she pulled it away. “Bliss can take care of it.”

“It might be gone by the time you get back. Some opera singer or something might come buy it.”

Without waiting for a response, she took the shirt to the counter and paid for it.

“Hey, would you like to go out sometime?” I wasn’t sure what compelled me to ask this and I regretted it as soon as the words left my mouth. Couldn’t it ruin a potential friendship?

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled. “Sure. What do you want to do?”

I froze. It had been so long since I’d asked anyone out that I’d completely forgotten about this part. I had no idea what to do. She would be disappointed and lose interest. It went like this every time.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted.

She shrugged. “Well, we’ll figure something out. Do you have a phone?”

I shook my head.

“I figured. I’ll text Anise when I’m free. She won’t mind being our go-between for now.”

“Really? That sounds great. I’m pretty much free any time.” I couldn’t hide the eagerness in my voice.