-make it alright-
-chapter twelve-
Beverly Hills, California: September, 2002
�There�s a spot!� Jorge Flores yelled out. He was Melissa�s other roommate. The one not quite so flamboyantly gay. He�d been leaning his head out the window of Melissa�s truck, scanning the streets for empty spaces. After driving around the block several times, something finally opened up.
�Where?� Melissa asked.
�Between the two Mercedes.�
Melissa rolled her eyes. �Give me a break. This is Rodeo Drive. All the cars on this street are Mercedes.�
�The car right there,� He said. Placing his hands on the back of Melissa�s head, Jorge directed her focus where he intended. For added emphasis, he also pointed.
�Oh, there. Got it.� Melissa finally understood. She maneuvered her large truck towards the street parking. Her roommate closed his eyes while she tried to parallel park. Unlike her better half, Melissa hadn�t wasted her teen years playing video games. Therefore, she lacked Nick�s hand/eye coordination. Riding with Melissa in the driver�s seat was always an adrenaline rush.
Luckily, the car stopped without hitting anything. After turning off the ignition, Melissa quickly bowed her head in a silent prayer.
�What was that for?�
Unbuckling her seatbelt, Melissa turned to face Jorge. �Just a little prayer to the patron saint of parking to thank her for aiding us to find this great spot.�
�Oh, so this spot is all due to Sister Mary Margaret, and not at all to me keen nose for empty asphalt?�
Melissa leaned over to kiss her roommate on the cheek. �I wouldn�t have survived the last eight years without you, Jorge. That includes help with parking.�
�Is that as close to an apology as I�m going to get?�
�You�re lucky you got that much out of me,� Melissa remarked. Jorge nodded his head, accepting Melissa�s comment. He opened the truck door. Squinting his eyes in the bright California sunshine, Jorge waited for his best friend to join him on the sidewalk. After feeding the meter with the contents of her change purse, Melissa stepped back next to Jorge.
Melissa took a deep breath, breathing in her surroundings along with the smoggy Los Angeles air. Cocking her head to the side, Melissa compared her monstrous 1970�s pick-up truck to the sleek and sophisticated Mercedes that surrounded it. Nearby, Jorge looked from an overflow of Armani suits on passerbys to his own clothes.
�Ever feel like you don�t fit in?� He asked Melissa.
�All the time,� she responded. Turning around, Melissa shook her booty at Jorge. It was hard not to notice the huge rip in the ass of Melissa�s favorite pair of Wrangler jeans.
�Well, this is Rodeo Drive,� Jorge remarked.
�You�re so punny, its not even funny!� Melissa said sarcastically. �Besides, you�re not dressed much better yourself.�
Jorge looked down. He was wearing cheap drugstore flip-flops and dark gray sweatpants, pushed up to mid-calf. Defending himself, he said, �Well- I have an excuse. I�m just starting grad school. This may as well be the uniform at UCLA.�
�For some reason, I have the feeling you�ll be using the �I�m a student� excuse for everything until you get your Master�s degree.� Commented Melissa. She laughed when Jorge shrugged uncertainly. �I thought so. Hey- where�d you get your shirt?�
�This?� Jorge asked, tugging on his Bruins soccer t-shirt. He waited until Melissa nodded before winking suggestively. �A hot date with a sexy little co-ed named Dave last night.�
�You didn�t!� Melissa exclaimed.
�Oh, but I did.�
Melissa slapped her best friend a high-five. �A soccer player? Score! Those boys have the best legs.�
�I know!� Jorge gushed.
�So that�s why you didn�t show up for my dinner last night,� Melissa realized.
�Well, that�s not the only reason.� Jorge admitted. �You�re cooking pretty much sucks, girly.�
�I�ll let that comment slide on the fact that you got lucky last night.� As an afterthought, Melissa added, �You did get lucky, didn�t you?�
Jorge raised his arms innocently, as he began to walk up the sidewalk. �When do I ever disappoint?�
�Oooh, you�re such a bad boy!� Melissa scolded. She ran to catch up with her friend. �So have you told Phillip about this new guy?�
Melissa had originally been introduced to Phillip back in 1999 when he and Jorge were dating. They�d since broken up, but managed to stay friends. Jorge shook his head at Melissa. �No, no, no. You should know by now- I never introduce my dates to Phillip. At least not until the guy has fallen head over heels for me. Otherwise, Phillip will lure my men away with offers of free designer clothes.�
�Speaking of designer clothes,� Melissa interrupted Jorge�s tirade. She grabbed him by the wrist, pulling Jorge to a stop. �We�re here.�
Jorge barely had the change to acquaint himself with the Tommy Hilfiger storefront. Melissa was yanking on his arm, dragging her best friend around. �Come on- we�re probably already late.�
The two were no more then twenty feet inside the door before they were stopped. �You do know you�re on Rodeo Drive, don�t you?�
The snide greeting came from a peppy-looking salesgirl, manning the front door. She was peering down her nose at Melissa and Jorge�s choice of attire. Straightening herself out, Melissa said, �Of course we know where we are.�
�Oh. Well, we�re offering a great clearance sale today that I�m sure you�d be interested in. Some items are marked down over seventy-five percent.� The girl was about nineteen, with perfectly highlighted strawberry-blonde hair. Probably a student at Occidental, or one of those other ridiculously priced private schools, Melissa decided.
�Actually, we�re not interested in sale items,� said Melissa as she glared at the salesgirl from behind her dark sunglasses. �We�re here to see Mr. Phillip Atwood. I have an appointment for a personal fitting.�
�Oh! You�re here to see Mr. Atwood!� The girl exclaimed with embarrassment, as she realized her mistake. �I�m so sorry. I just assumed��
�Oh, let me guess.� Melissa jumped in. �With the way we�re dressed? A couple of scrubby Latin kids? You probably thought we drove over from East LA to spend a day with the rich people. Trying on clothes we can�t afford and generally being bothersome. Am I right?�
�I�m so glad you understand-� the girl began to gush.
�Oh, but I don�t understand,� Melissa interrupted coldly. �Next time, don�t be so quick to jump to conclusions.�
The girl laughed uncomfortably. She fidgeted with the edge of her perfectly starched button-down, while trying to come up with a dignified response. Melissa took off her sunglasses, glaring icily at the younger girl. Finally able to make eye contact, the young salesgirl�s face flashed a sign of recognition. �Don�t you dance for Britney Spears?�
�As a matter of fact, I do.�
�That�s what I thought,� the girl�s voice was growing increasingly excited. �I saw your performance on the Grammy�s last winter. It was just great. I�m a huge Britney fan.�
�I�m sure your are.�
�Hey- aren�t you and Nick Carter together? I like Backstreet more than *NSYNC. Didn�t I see something on TRL that you and Nick-�
�Oh, look!� Melissa interrupted yet again. �There�s Phillip!�
Without letting the girl finish her question, Melissa yanked Jorge away. Once out of earshot, Jorge whispered, �You can be such a bitch sometimes.�
�I know,� Melissa agreed. �But it�s because of people like her that I hate Rodeo Drive. She reminds me too much of my mother.�
�Melissa! Jorge! Come up these stairs here!� Phillip called out. He was leaning over the railing on the store�s second floor. �Honestly, I can�t believe you�re late to your own personal fitting.�
�Sorry, sugar daddy.� Melissa apologized. She jumped the stairs two at a time. �We had trouble parking.�
�What you need is a smaller, more manageable car. Besides being hideous, that things you drive now is incredibly unpractical. Besides�� Phillip cut himself off when his roommates finally stood in front of him. �Oh sweeties, what are you wearing?�
�What we always wear,� Melissa stood up for the two.
�Why do you treat me like this?� Phillip massaged the bridge of his nose. �Here I am, hooking you up with a free personal fitting. And how do you thank me? By showing up to my place of business, looking like a pair of homeless bums!�
A professional-looking young brunette wearing a navy blue suit clamped a hand on Phillip�s shoulder. �Phillip, honey. You have a phone call.�
�Oh, okay. I better get that.� Before rushing off, Phillip pushed the lady in the freshly-pressed suit closer to his roommates. �Anne- these are my roommates, Melissa and Jorge.
�Anne will be running your fitting today.� Phillip explained to Melissa. He whispered, just a little too loudly into Anne�s ear, �As you can tell, she needs a lot of work.�
Melissa stuck her tongue out at her roommate. Smiling, Phillip rushed off, leaving the threesome alone. Hand-shaking went around the circle.
�Follow me,� Anne directed. �I�ll bring you back into the fitting room.� Anne led Melissa and Jorge into the back part of the store. Just off from the public shopping area was a small, but nicely kept, private room. Melissa and Jorge took a seat on a plush navy blue love seat, with patriotic red and white pillows. In front of the two was a glass coffee table containing a variety of tea sandwiches.
�So Phillip tells me you�re going to the Video Music Awards in New York later this week. Is this your first awards show?� Anne asked warmly.
�My first walk down the red carpet,� Melissa explained.
�Ah, I see. Well, that�s exciting.� Anne smiled. �So do you have any ideas about what you would like to wear?�
�Well�have you ever seen the *NSYNC video for �For The Girl Who Has Everything�?� Melissa asked. Anne shook her head uncertainly. �Well, there�s this great dress that the girl in the video wears. Its real sparkly and-�
�And don�t listen to her,� Phillip said, upon entering the room. �Just have her try on the outfit we discussed earlier.�
�It�s right there, inside that dressing room,� Anne directed Melissa to yet another small room. The curly-haired girl disappeared for a few minutes. When she reappeared, the whole room grinned broadly.
�You guys like it?� Melissa asked. She turned around, showing off the outfit. She wore a dark chocolate leather miniskirt and a matching triangle bikini top. Over the leather swimsuit top, Melissa wore a fitted, button-down shirt made out of a see-through material.
�You look amazing,� Phillip said proudly. Melissa stepped back into her dressing room. She surveyed her body in the full-length mirror. The short leather skirt did look pretty good, the way it clung to her muscular dancer�s leg. And the color of the sheer shirt perfectly matched the color of her own eyes.
Melissa walked back into the main room. �I like it. I just don�t think my mother will approve.�
�Do you think your mom will even be watching?� Jorge asked.
�To see my performance,� Melissa said with a nod. �But I�m twenty-two years old. I shouldn�t dress to impress my mama anymore.�
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