Just friends.

Rebecca had texted me before breakfast on Saturday morning.

I stared at the message for a few seconds.

Three dots appeared almost immediately.

I smiled despite myself.

That was how I ended up standing inside the shopping centre two hours later, waiting for Rebecca to finish getting ready and finally arrive. My mom had wanted to do the weekly grocery shop, so I had caught a lift with her. I could message her later in the day when I wanted to get picked up. Nearly half an hour after the agreed meeting time, Rebecca finally appeared through the automatic doors, sunglasses pushed up into her hair and a small handbag hanging from her shoulder.

"You made it,” Rebecca said, completely ignoring the fact that she was the one late.

"You invited me."

"I know, and I'm impressed you actually listened."

"You're welcome," I answered, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned. "Come on."

I followed her inside. It became obvious almost immediately that I had misunderstood my role. I had assumed she wanted company while she shopped. What she actually wanted was a personal wardrobe and style consultant.

"Which one?" She held up two nearly identical tops.

"The blue one."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

I shrugged. "Looks better."

She narrowed her eyes. "That's your expert opinion?"

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"Something useful."

"The blue one makes you look less like you're trying to be Rebecca."

She stared at me. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know." I threw my hands in the air.

She laughed. "You're terrible at this."

"You asked for this."

"I did."

She put the blue top over her arm. "Come on."

The next hour went much the same way. Jeans. Tops. A jacket. A dress she insisted wasn't a dress because it was technically a long shirt. Every time she came out of the changing rooms, she made me give her an opinion. Eventually I started wondering if she'd deliberately chosen me because she knew I couldn't tell her anything except the truth.

At yet another store, she came out wearing a pair of jeans and a fitted black top. “Well?"

"They look good."

"Just good?"

"Really good."

She smiled at herself in the mirror. "See? That wasn't difficult."

"You've asked me that about twelve times."

"And you've given me twelve different answers."

"They've all been basically the same."

"Exactly." She disappeared back behind the curtain. A moment later, her voice came from inside. "Actually, come in here."

I looked around. "What?"

"The changing room."

"I heard you."

"Then come in."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired of walking out every thirty seconds just to show you something."

"Rebecca..."

"Oh, stop being weird. You're my best friend."

There it was. The phrase that had always made everything simple. Best friend. I stepped inside. The little changing area suddenly seemed considerably smaller.

Rebecca was standing in front of the mirror with another top held against herself. "Does this work?"

"Yeah."

"Better than the other one?"

"I think so."

“I’m going to try it on,” Rebecca said as she started to pull the top she already had on off.

"Whoa!" I said and started looking every which way but at her.

“Oh hush! You’ve seen me in a bikini before. This is just like that.”

It was not just like that. A black lace bra was not like a swimsuit at all. I could see Rebecca’s young 18-year-old breasts being lifted up by the bra’s demi-cups. In fact, they were only just big enough that I wasn’t seeing any nipple.

“I think I should get out,” I said.

“Don’t be silly. Best friends can get changed around each other.”

Rebecca tried on another three tops to go with the new jeans she had on, and I tried not to look too uncomfortable as she exposed her bra to me each time in between.

"Still good." She looked at me through the mirror.

I didn’t say anything. The whole watching Rebecca get undressed over and over was making me uncomfortable in a few different ways.

"You really don't care, do you?" Rebecca asked when I didn’t respond.

"I care."

"You're just very bad at showing it."

"I've been here for an hour."

"Exactly. We’ve barely got started" She laughed and pulled off her top again.

I leaned against the wall, trying not to think too much about the fact that I was sitting inside a changing room with Rebecca while she tried on clothes. This wasn't something I'd ever imagined happening. Or, more accurately, it was exactly the sort of thing I'd imagined happening. Before.

“Alright, I’m getting all of these,” Rebecca declared.

At last, I thought, I could leave. But not before she turned around away from me and then dropped her new blue jeans down around her ankles. I didn’t get a chance to look away before I saw Rebecca bending over in front of me in basically just her underwear. Her panties were a matching set with her bra and cut just as small. As she folded in half, I could see the way the high-cut material lifted all the way up Rebecca’s tight arse. It was more than a G-string but not by much.

My face was flushed red by the time Rebecca and I stepped out of the changing room together. She’d tripped over slightly getting her legs back into her old jeans and had fallen against the dividing walls. I’d had to shoot an arm out under her armpit to catch her. She’d thanked me and then wiggled the pants over her hips as we faced each other.

We stepped out of the changing room together, Rebecca carrying the clothes she’d decided to buy and me following with the shopping bags. And nearly walked straight into Trish. She’d come from one curtain over on the other side just as we walked out. She stopped in the middle of the aisle, her eyes moving from Rebecca to me. For a moment, nobody said anything.

"Oh!" I said, suddenly confronted by the person I’d barely been able to stop thinking about all week.

Trish stopped abruptly.

Rebecca smiled. "Hi!"

"Hi." Trish's eyes moved between us. I could hardly blame her. We'd just emerged together from a changing room, and Rebecca was standing so close that our shoulders were touching.

"What are you two doing here?" Trish asked.

"Shopping," Rebecca replied cheerfully. "I needed someone to give me a second opinion."

"Right."

Rebecca held up the clothes. "He's actually been pretty useful."

Trish looked at me. "Has he?"

"Apparently." I tried to sound casual, but the whole situation suddenly felt awkward.

Rebecca, naturally, seemed oblivious. "Are you shopping too?"

"Just looking around."

"Oh, cool. Well, I’m going to pay for these. I'll see you around."

Rebecca headed towards the checkout, leaving me standing with Trish. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

"How have you been?" I asked.

"Fine."

"How's Heather?"

"She's good."

I waited, hoping she'd say something more. She didn't.

"Have you been up to much?"

"Not really."

The conversation felt strangely difficult. Trish had always been easy to talk to, but today she seemed determined to keep things brief. I wondered whether she'd found it strange seeing me with Rebecca.

Before I could ask, she glanced towards the checkout. "I should get going."

"Oh. Okay."

"See you." She gave me a weak smile and walked away.

I watched her disappear into the crowd.

Rebecca had returned, shopping bags in hand. "Trish isn't sticking around?"

"No. It doesn’t look like it."

Rebecca shrugged. "Come on. I want to show you something."

And just like that, I was dragged off to the next store.