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Part 8

I stopped my depressing walk in front of a small, red bricked store with several mannequins donned in flannel staring out at the empty street. That felt like a job I could get into. Not doing anything but wearing clothes and looking into space until some other person takes you and you start over again, same as always, the scenery being the only difference. Without Brent, as much of a dick as he was, I'm alone again.

It doesn't matter. You two weren't going to the same college anyways. Hell, you're a year older than he is, I'm surprised that you haven't been arrested or something.

Arrested? He wouldn't have me arrested.

I'm not saying he would, but maybe his parents. You could be the "reason" their son is the way he is. Maybe look at it as: now you can date older guys who have actual sense, and are legal to drink.

Could you just be quiet for, like, two seconds?

I don't know. Can you?

I heaved a heavy sigh. Maybe it wouldn't have worked out between us. I can guarantee that if it was as hard as hell for us to be close now, it'd be about ten times harder long distance. Maybe it was better to end it now, instead of continuing until he broke my heart again by sleeping, or even dating someone behind my back. Maybe.

I shook my head when I realized I had been staring into the store for God knows how long and checked the streets to see if anyone was watching me (even though the streets were empty). I cracked my four fingers with my thumb and this time, actually look into the store. They had assorted t-shirts and jeans, but mostly flannel (go figure). I had the undying urge to go in and spend hours searching for the perfect flannel. Besides hoodies, flannel and plaid were my next two favorite items of clothing. And after about a minute of thought, I opened the door to the sound of a high pitched chime.

The outside didn't betray the inside, it was just as small as it appeared. The flannel shirts were hung up on one side of the room, not in any particular order, with some cheap necklaces hanging to the right of them accompanied by brown leather belts. The jeans were lying on an oak table with the t-shirts. There were two other people, a lanky ferret chatting quietly with a short otter. I immediately went to the right wing of the store, (since the left side had pink and appeared to be a tighter fit, I assumed the right was for guys) which only took about six steps and began browsing the different flannel. I found a couple and draped them over my arm and crossed over to the t-shirts. They were mostly plain, some graphic t's, but, to me, they were pretty unappealing. So I settled for the few on my arm (and by "few" I mean like seven). There was a dressing room, which I guess is also the bathroom, at the other end of the store, so I crossed the room again and quietly closed the door behind me, and made doubly sure that it was locked.

For some reason, I always feel weird when I take my clothes off in public. I mean, I'm not averse to the idea of being a porn star or whatever, but still the idea of someone seeing me like that always make me a little uncomfortable. Even changing in the locker room, I would used to wrap my tail around my body, pretending it was just so people didn't step on it. It's always just been that way, even with Brent. The first time we ever tried anything I kept my shirt on (to retain some decency) while he ripped everything off (not that I'm complaining about that). It wasn't until towards the end of Freshman year that I felt completely okay with being naked in front of him, and was the first to take off my clothes.

Now, though, it's gotten better but not to the point of me stripping off my shirt in public and going from there.

Have you tried it?

Tried what?

Just taking off your shirt and walking around.

What? No.

Really? You did it with Brent. You walked to the pool with him shirtless.

That was different.

How?

Because...it just was okay?

I really hate him. But he did have a point: what was the difference between now and then? I knew the answer but it was hard to put into words at the moment. Plus, I didn't want to think about it now.

I picked up a darkish green (the color sort of resembled pine leaves) flannel and tried that on first. It fit really well and went with my eyes too. Next was the red, it wasn't too great, and I had to try on a medium which made me look ten pounds heavier. The other was a blue flannel, which, fit well but I didn't think it went with my eyes or fur at all. And the other three I didn't even bother with. After every flannel, my eyes instantly imagined the green on me. Mother did say green looked good on me.

I stripped an ugly brown flannel off and exchanged it for the green again. I didn't button it and kept it open to expose my bare chest and abs.

I don't know why you are ashamed, you have a nice body.

A small smile crossed my muzzle.

I took the flannel off and put my hoodie back on. After I scooped up all the shirts and put them back on their hooks, I opened the door. The ferret was still talking to the otter, whose eyes followed me to the other side of the store. I put back all the shirts except for the green and went up to the cashier and carefully placed it on the counter.

The cashier, a bear with a smile that showed off all her sharp teeth, gleefully rang me up. After scanning the flannel and taking it off the hanger which she placed somewhere below the counter, asked, "Will that be all today?"

I nodded my head and she gracefully punched in some buttons. "Okay, sir, that'll be $35."

I dug in my pocket for my wallet and withdrew two twenties, which she took in her large paws. After giving me the change and putting the flannel and receipt into a plastic bag, she smiled and handed me the bag. When I had just grabbed the bag from her, she whispered, "You're going to make someone very lucky."

My head cocked to one side as my eyes stayed on her. She smiled warmly back and said nothing. The first thought to my head, as I put on the best fake smile I could, was I already made someone happy.

I quickly dismissed that thought. He wasn't happy. Never called, texted sometimes, but not as nearly as much as I would've wanted to, and, the obvious, cheating on me twice.

That bear hung with me the next two hours that I was wandering around the small town, occasionally seeing some of the kids from school. They were mostly in pairs of two, sometimes in groups, talking and laughing without a care in the world. I envied them. God, I wish I could just dismiss these feelings of Brent and just move on. Maybe get fucked by someone else or something.

See? I told you hooking up will get you to forget about Brent.

Fuck off.

With my ears lowered and my tail sagging, I wearily crossed the street to where the kids were all huddled together talking and exchanging items that they had bought. I didn't notice the muscular husky approaching me from the crowd until I walked into him. It took me a couple seconds to realize that my muzzle was buried in some guys shirt. I quickly withdrew my head and took a couple steps back while mumbling an apology.

Carson clasped his paws together behind his head as a smile crossed his muzzle. "It's no biggy," he said.

When I made no effort to respond (mostly because I thought I got in his way and that he'd be walking around me in a few seconds), he cleared his throat and said, "'Member when I fucked up your iPhone?"

How could I forget? "Yeah," I replied.

"Well I felt bad so..." He brought his paws down and fished in his pocket. he withdrew a perfectly new iPhone. He angled it towards me, and I took it, cautiously, and stared at it for a few seconds. "I fixed it for ya'. I didn't know what else to do, you wouldn't pay."

I stared at the phone, that was now reflecting my puzzled look on the screen. "How'd you get it? I never gave it to you."

"In the restaurant. When I bumped into you. My bro taught me some stuff about lifting things from other people and so I-"

"Stole it," I finished his sentence.

"Borrowed it," he smiled down at me.

I didn't know what to say. But before I knew it, I had my paws wrapped around his waist. My slender frame felt insignificant in the presence of his musculature, I could feel his abs, his biceps, his pecs, all rock hard and smooth (later, I found out, he was flexing his body to show off). I caught a scent from him that was unfamiliar, at least from Carson. It smelled...different. Honestly, it smelled fantastic. I could feel my stomach churning as his large arms closed themselves around me. It felt so...good. I couldn't find words.

He broke the hug and locked eyes with me for a couple seconds before his Carson-smile came back. "Wanna go hiking tomorrow, it's supposed to be really nice out, one of the nicest days this week."

"Sure," I said avoiding his eyes and holding my wrist with my other paw.

"Cool," he said and patted me lightly on the back. "See you on the bus."