TOUCH

Chapter 2

AURELIA

The weekend went by quickly.

Getting a membership to the nearby gym for my training was the first thing I did and I knowingly asked for the slot at five in the morning, mostly to avoid people.

Thanks to aunty, I also got a job in the canteen of the hospital she works in. Its a "pay by hour per week" concept here so I am hoping I'll have enough time to study even if I work four hours each day of the week. Weekends are free, as of now.

I have every intention of proving the Asian stereotype about study, right.

After aunt's continuous persistent we also took a tour of the malls. She insisted I buy something new for college or in general. But I refused.

I am good with my comfortable cargo pants and loose t-shirts which aunty has reminded me for the twentieth time already, is big enough to fit two of me.

She isn't wrong though. If I didn't have a hip length dark hair in a braid most people would probably think I'm a boy.

Speaking of people,there aren't many. It feels like Indian tier 2 city on a sunday afternoon, everyday. Coming from the most populated country, the lack of crowd is unsettling but I can get used to of this.

When I refuse the tenth dress she throws at my face, she sigh."Alright I'll buy something of my choice then," she gives me a defeated look.

I smile at her and then turn to face the big windowpane, watching a rain drop make its way down.

After another hour of walking through the maze of racks of clothing ,she finally settle with a long maroon dress. It has full sleeves and...

I look at her in disbelief. "Ohh My God there is no back ...you can't buy this."

Try as I might, to fit in. There's no way I'm comfortable with showing any skin. I don't think I'll ever be okay with it. The conditioning is too deep rooted.

"I can and I will. Just go, try," she lectures me , determination clear in her voice."It will complement your skin tone."

"No but what about the bra?"I whisper at her. "Who designs these stupid dresses? Supporters of free the nipples? Aren't they aware that women wear bra?" I ask her suppressing the irritation in my tone and still whispering.

"You won't need a bra. You can use those things they paste on nipples.",She says, distracted by another set of dresses hung nearby.

"And die from the pain of taking it out. No, Thanks!"  I wince thinking of women's never ending troubles.

"Just try the damn thing,"she laughs

I sigh and head towards the trial room . It takes fifteen minutes and a lot of hand twisting in a way that can land
me a part in a zombie movie to close the little zipper on the hip of the dress.

When the struggle is over I look into the mirror. The dress fits like couture everywhere except my upper arms. My hips looks prominent with snatched waist and the boat shaped neck sitting well with whatever is left of my collarbone.

But the back is entirely bare and that is giving me hives.

Regardless,the maroon color on my skintone ,which is fair by Indian standards and olive by American , did look good.

I come out of the room with one arm wrapped across covering both my breasts."My nipples are showing."

"Girl! you look bomb. Stop crying," a salesgirl remarks from across the counter, gleefully.

Ofcourse she'll say that to flatter the customer and get their money. I keep that thought to myself and just return a smile.

Despite my protest we end up buying the dress.