But I stood at the edge of the bar, elbow brushing Lily’s elbow, and ordered one more from Scary Bartender anyway. She raised an eyebrow at me as she handed them over, like she had no idea what Lily was doing with me, and I shrugged. Her guess was as good as mine.

“Tell me more about your clothes,” I said before bringing the tiny plastic straw to my mouth and turning my body toward Lily. It was quieter here at the bar, away from the dance floor, and I wanted a chance to breathe, to talk to her more. It was better lit here too, and I could see how her pale skin was flushed with patches of pink, either from the singing or the dancing, down her neck, toward the tops of those lovely breasts. Her hair knots were still firmly in place, but the heat of the now-crowded room had made a few tendrils near her forehead spring loose: small, sweat-soaked curls. And for a second, the wanting became acute: a flash in my veins of wishing she was truly mine.

“You really want to know?” She faced me, an eyebrow raised. “Because once I get going on this topic, I can get kind of...verbose. Or maybe obnoxious is the better word.”

“I promise,” I smiled. “I am here for your verbosity.”

She leaned her back against the bar, elbows propped on the counter.

“Well.” She cleared her throat. “It’s a well-established truth that shopping as a ‘plus size’—” air quotes, eye roll, “—person is a pain in the ass.”

I nodded.

“Most bigger chain stores these days, like Old Navy or whatever, do have plus size options, but they only go up to 3 or 4x, if you’re lucky. And even those plus size options aren’t available in store, only online—as if our existence is too shameful to exist in public, or something—so you can’t try them on. So you waste a ton of time and money and guesswork on clothes that might not even fit you well anyway.”

She took a sip of her drink, shaking her head.

“Even if you find stores with bigger sizes, it’s tough. Because fat people’s bodies are so different, you know? Some of us have big bellies and skinny legs. Some have big hips but are skinnier up top. Some of us are short and some of us are tall. And for people with breasts, sometimes nothing seems right. I can’t tell you how many dresses I’ve bought that made my ass look fantastic but were weird flappy bags from my shoulders to my stomach. And like, I have great breasts!” She motioned to her chest. “Work with my breasts, people!”

“Um.” I realized too late that these were statements I did not need to respond to. Because Lily looked at me, eyes twinkling with what I hoped was laughter. “Uh. Yes. I agree.”