the duff. ❨ reghead! ❩

CHAPTER SIX

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I ARRIVED TO the outside mall on the other side of town at about 12:05 at noon. I put my bike on the rack, seeing Reggie leaning on the wall staring at me. He looked at the top of my head impressed that I wasn't wearing my hat. He puts on a lopsided smile opening the door.

I walk in and he leans down in my ear whispering, "you're late," he stands next to me as we walk. "It's only been five minutes." Reggie shakes his head. "Yeah, that's still late. But for now, I'll let it slide," I clasps my hands together, a little pep in my step. I was kind of excited for what Reggie had planned. At the same time it was Reggie so you couldn't be that excited.

"So what'cha got for me, teach?" I ask Reggie. Reggie smirks. "A lot actually. I've got three main agendas that we must cover. Clothes, party, girls. But in your case, we'll say boys." I nod. Reggie continues, "after you master those three. We'll go from there." He tells me.

He leads me to the start of where all the teen clothing stores start. We stand in front of this store, Pacsun. He looks at me. "You ready, Pennywise?" I nod. "Let's get this shit done." We walk inside the store, eccentric pop music blaring in our ears. Some guy grins at Reggie fist bumping him.

I look around completely out of my element. I wasn't one of these boys that shopped at these mainstream places. I liked certain things. I didn't want to be like everybody else. But I guess, I'd have to try something a bit different.

Reggie brought me over to the Nike section. He started browsing through the sweatshirts that had the little check on them. I continued to look around but I was just completely confused about what I was supposed to pick. "Reggie," I called him. He hummed still looking through the shirts.

Reggie grabs two different colored sweatshirts holding it by his head. "Which one do you think would look better on me? The bubblegum pink one or the golf ball colored one." He asked me. I looked at him, sighing. "The , uh, the pink one," I said pointing to the pink sweatshirt. He grins, "me too."

"Reggie, what are you doing? I obviously wouldn't have come to be your personal shadow to your shopping. I need real talk, Reg. So can we get this thing going," I tell him. Reggie sighs. He puts the shirts down on the rack and turns to face me.

He puts his hands on my shoulders making me walk backwards to where one of the hanging lights was. He pushes me right under the light looking at me. I stare into his eyes as he studies me. "So? What's idealistically wrong with me?" I ask. He hums, putting a hand under his chin.

He nods. He takes his other hand off my shoulder standing completely straight. "You've got bad posture, you wear these slightly baggy jeans that practically swallow your legs and you wear this flannel around your waist that makes you look like an asshole. Boom! Real talk." My eyes widen. He shrugs, "I watch a lot of Project Runway, what's up?" he tilts his head as if asking me to follow him.

"Some of the things you wear makes me question what type of message you're trying to give off. Sometimes you come off like a rejected tumblr boy and other times you come out like you haven't been outside since 1997. Although at the same time you dress like Freddie Benson's slightly better cousin. Until Freddie went through puberty." Yikes. The amount of comments Reggie Mantle could make out of my clothing could fill a chapter of a book.