Chapter 10 Luxury Lunch
Max stared at the sleek iPhone box on his bed like it might explode. His fingers hovered over the pristine packaging, not quite daring to touch it.
"Is this..." he swallowed hard, adjusting his glasses with shaking hands. "This is the actual newest model? The real thing?"
I leaned against his doorframe, arms crossed. "No, I bought you a counterfeit from some guy in an alley. Of course it's real."
He picked up the box carefully, examining it from every angle like a bomb technician. "But where did you get this? These cost like... a thousand dollars."
"I bought it." I shrugged, then reached into my backpack and pulled out an identical box. "Got one for myself too."
Max's jaw dropped. His eyes darted between the two boxes, then up to my face, searching for some explanation that made sense in his world—a world where his sister was a broke high school student who couldn't afford breakfast.
"But... how?" he stammered. "You don't have a job. You don't have money. This is..." He gestured helplessly at the phone. "This is impossible."
"It's not stolen, if that's what you're worried about," I said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "And I didn't rob a bank or sell drugs. It's mine, legitimately purchased, and now it's yours."
He clutched the box tighter. "Are you in some kind of trouble, Jade?"
I smiled at his concern. "No trouble. If this one breaks, I'll buy you another one. No questions asked."
Max stared at me for a long moment, his expression a mixture of suspicion and temptation. Finally, his desire for the technology won out over his concerns. He slowly opened the box, fingers trembling slightly as he lifted out the gleaming device.
The next morning, I returned from my dawn run to find Max already dressed and waiting in the hallway. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, and he was thumbing through his new phone with intense focus.
"You look like shit," I remarked, wiping sweat from my forehead. My running clothes clung to me, damp with perspiration. "Did you stay up all night?"
He smiled sheepishly. "Maybe. It's just... it's amazing, Jade. The processing speed, the camera quality—I've already downloaded some physics simulation programs."
"Give me fifteen minutes to shower, and then we're going out."
"Out? Where?"
"Shopping," I called back.
As we headed down the stairs, Emily appeared from her room, eyeing us suspiciously. "Where are you two going?" she demanded, voice sharp with curiosity.
I walked past her without acknowledging her existence. Max hesitated, then followed me, his new iPhone tucked securely in his pocket.
The Cloud City Mall was the biggest shopping center in the area. Max looked distinctly uncomfortable as we walked through the gleaming entrance, his shoulders hunched as if trying to take up less space among the weekend shoppers who clearly had more money than our family.
"What are we doing here?" he whispered, eyeing the high-end stores with trepidation.
"Getting you some decent clothes," I replied, steering him toward the men's department. I nodded to a sales associate who immediately approached, his professional smile widening as he sensed a commission.
"We need a complete wardrobe refresh for my brother," I said. "Casual, but good quality."
The associate's gaze swept over Max's worn jeans and faded t-shirt. "Of course. Right this way."
Three outfits later, Max stood awkwardly in front of a mirror, dressed in designer clothes that made him look older, more confident—despite his obvious discomfort with the attention.
"This doesn't feel like me," he muttered, tugging at the sleeve of a tailored jacket.
"That's the point," I replied. "We'll take these, plus the other two sets," I told the associate.
The total came to $2,400. Max's eyes bulged as I handed over a credit card without hesitation.
"Jade," he hissed as we walked away with shopping bags. "That's more than Mom makes in two weeks!"
"Then it's a good thing Mom's not paying for it." I guided him toward the high-end shoe store. "Come on. Those sneakers you're wearing look like they're one step away from falling apart."
Max tried to downplay his left foot as he sat down, angling it away from the salesman's view. I noticed the subtle movement, the ingrained habit of hiding his disability.
Two hours and $2,800 later, Max had two designer athletic shoes and a pair of casual boots. I picked up several outfits for myself as well—simple pieces that would fit my evolving body as I continued to lose weight and build muscle.
By the time we left the mall, we'd spent nearly $12,000. Max walked beside me in stunned silence, carefully holding shopping bags emblazoned with luxury logos he'd previously only seen in advertisements.
"Are we done?" he finally asked as we approached the exit.
"Almost. Lunch first."
I guided him to the Grand Plaza Hotel. Max stumbled slightly as we entered the marble lobby, his eyes widening at the crystal chandeliers and uniformed staff.
"Jade, we can't eat here," he whispered urgently. "This is the most expensive restaurant in Cloud City!"
"That's why we're eating here," I replied, approaching the maître d'. "Table for two, please. Something private."
We were led to a private dining room on the top floor with panoramic views of the city. Max sank into the soft leather chair, looking wildly out of place despite his new clothes. When handed the French menu, his face paled.
"I can't... I don't know what any of this means," he whispered. "And there aren't even prices!"
"If you have to ask the price, you can't afford it," I said with a small smile. "Don't worry about it."
The waiter returned, and Max practically shoved the menu back at him. "I'm not really hungry," he mumbled, though his stomach growled audibly.
I rolled my eyes. "He'll have what I'm having," I told the waiter, then continued in flawless French, "Nous prendrons le foie gras pour commencer, suivi du filet de boeuf avec truffes noires, et le turbot. Une bouteille d'eau pétillante aussi, s'il vous plaît."
The waiter nodded appreciatively and left. Max stared at me in disbelief.
"Since when do you speak French?"
I pulled out my new laptop and set it on the marble table. "Self-taught. Just to pass the time."
"And you know what foie gras and truffles are? Have you been to places like this before?"
"Something like that," I replied, fingers already flying across the keyboard.
Max leaned back in his chair, taking in the opulent surroundings—the crystal chandelier, the panoramic windows, the thick carpet beneath our feet. "This is insane," he muttered. "Last week we were arguing over who got the last packet of cookies."
I didn't respond, focusing instead on my screen. From the corner of my eye, I could see Max studying me—not just my appearance, but the way I held myself, the confident way my fingers navigated the keyboard.
Eventually, curiosity got the better of him. He slid his chair around to peek at my screen. His eyes widened.
"What is that?"