Lillian
The day Lillian was whisked off to the infirmary had proved to be a time for them to get to know a little more about each other. Weeks passed by since then in a symphony of training, meditation and coding training. Mark took the time to ensure he programmed not just a clock into her VR gear, but a schedule and timed reminders to help prevent any further health scares. Chelsea began taking Lillian to a little known fitness track on campus. The light exercise helped more than just her health. It also built up her muscles a little, bringing her physical build closer to matching her avatar's strong lean physique.
It was during one of these light workout sessions that Chelsea made her announcement. "You and I are going shopping tomorrow." Lillian's blood drained from the top of her head down her body. Their easy jog was stopped in their tracks. Shopping meant public places and those places meant crowds. Chelsea must have noticed her reluctance because her brown eyes narrowed and plump lower lip poked out with her scowl. "Sister, your clothes are tread bare and your shoes are falling apart. You need new clothes."
Lillian protested, ears pinned back. "I don't think I'll be able to leave the just yet." Not that Chelsea fully knew about her predicament with the company.
Chelsea sighed, her head lowered a bit as she groaned. When their eyes met again, the empathy was clear. "Look, I understand why you don't like going out in public, but you've been making progress." A naughty grin graced her lips as she continued. "I also know there's a certain rep that's quite sweet on you. I bet if he thought going out may help he'd be all for it."
Mark's face immediately came to mind. She looked away in defiance, trying to hide the blush staining her cheeks. "Yeah right. Mark's just looking out for my well being."
"Oh, really?" The knowing grin Chelsea gave her made her body tense with unease. "Why do you think Mark has been acting like a mother hen?"
"Because he's a stickler for the rules and I happen to be his charge." Lillian stated matter-of-factly. She cocked her head away in denial. "Besides, being acknowledged as his friend is enough." The last part stung when she said it and she wasn't sure why.
Chelsea briefly put her finger to her chin, eyes upturned as if thinking about it. "I don't think so. Devs that are assigned to testers don't wear tailored suits, but the heads of the company do. Heads don't get assigned. They do the assigning." Chelsea shrugged nonchalantly, her lime green crop top lifting to show a sliver of her abs in the process.
"You're saying he chose to hang out with us lowly testers?" Lillian asked in disbelief, yet a glimmer of warmth stirred in her chest.
Chelsea shook her head. "Not us." She pointed between them. "You. I'm telling you, girl. He's got it bad." Lillian pushed down the warmth that bloomed in her chest despite her doubt. It was more likely because of her unusual condition.
Lillian felt and heard someone coming toward them fast. Thanks to her lightning fast reflects, she pulled Chelsea to the side in time to prevent another girl about an inch taller than Chelsea from slamming into her friend. Her skin tight black track suit hugged her curves, auburn hair cut short in a pixie style.
"Out of the way." The girl shouted angrily, snagging the loose material of Lillian's grey shirt as she rushed by. The fabric tore at the seam from the waistline all the way down to the hem, exposing pale fresh scored with a faded silver scar mostly covered by the hanging fabric.
A growl rumbled deep in Lillian's chest low and primal as she clutched the torn edges of the fabric back together hastily. Too late. The shock on Chelsea's face said it all. She gave her friend a sheepish smile. "Looks like I need to do some shopping after all. Let me get changed."
Lillian hurried back to her room with Chelsea close behind her, nearly crashing into Mark who was mere feet from her door. "Whoa! Where's the fire?" Mark exclaimed, startled. Lillian was in too big of a hurry to answer. She especially didn't want Mark to see her ripped shirt. She swooped through her room, snatching the strap to her duffle and zoomed into the bathroom locking the door behind her. While trading out her torn rags for a fresh purple shirt, she could hear Mark ask Chelsea what had happened.
Chelsea's voice was like a soft chime of a bell on her ears. "There was a little mishap on the track. Luckily, her sixth sense saved me from getting hurt. Her shirt … not so much."
Lillian came out carrying the torn garment, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Chelsea was blocking the entrance with her arms on each side of the door frame, barring Mark from entering the room. Lillian came up behind Chelsea and casually perched her chin on top of her friend's head, earning her a disgruntled protest from her shorter friend. "Before you ask, no. Nobody got hurt."
"Not yet anyway." Chelsea grumbled, flicking her hand in front of Lillian's face to shoo her way.
My, how the tables have turned.
Chelsea pointed her thumb to Lillian, shifting her weight. "Mind if I take her shopping tomorrow?"
Mark crossed his arms over his chest. He wore a simple blue long sleeved shirt and loose denim pants. One of his attempts to blend in whenever he stopped by to see Lillian. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Lillian is still under evaluation and I have to keep an eye on her." Chelsea slumped forward crestfallen with her dark hair slipping toward her face, allowing Mark to see into the still mostly bare room Lillian inhabited. For some reason, Lillian couldn't help being a bit embarrassed every time he looked around her room. It wasn't like she had anything to hide in it. "But I suppose she could use a few more necessities before her evaluation ends."
Chelsea perked up. "So does that mean we can go?" Chelsea was buzzing with barely bridled energy, her hope restored.
Mark gave her stern, "No." Chelsea's face fell, dejected. "But we can order anything she needs within her budget. I'll just need her to write a shopping list." His eyes landed on Lillian, softening to a warm grassy field green. "I'll see you again soon."
Chelsea closed the door, and then stood up on her toes to whisper in Lillian's ear. "How much do you wanna bet he was picturing you in a dress?"
Lillian rolled her eyes on her way to the desk. She opened the drawer, taking out a notebook with half the papers missing and a pencil. "Need I remind you that if I took you up on that last bet, you would've lost?"