Doreen

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Authors: Ilana Manaster
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information could prove very detrimental to Heidi’s social position. Doreen had to participate. That was the only way. Otherwise Heidi could lose everything.
    An elegant woman clicked by in skinny jeans and a glittery top, led by three Pomeranians. Doreen stepped aside to let her pass, and Heidi saw her straighten her posture slightly. She even turned and watched the woman after she’d gone by. Heidi smiled, exhaled. Anyone could see the longing in Doreen’s face. That woman had stepped right out of Roland Gibbons’s world. But it could be their world, too. Doreen and Heidi’s.
    â€œI hear what you are saying, I do,” said Heidi, taking Doreen’s arm. “But, Dorie, you want to excel at Chandler. Socially, I mean. Don’t you? That’s what I thought. The unfortunate truth is that all entrances into high society are very closely guarded. That’s the bad news. The good news for you and me, Doreen, is that the guards are superficial, but stupid. It is easy to get past, the only requirement is that you look the part. So, the way I think of it, the Arthritis Foundation is making a kind of unknowing investment in me. By giving me the trappings of wealth, they are making it possible for me to join the ranks of high society. So that one day, when I’m an adult, I can spend the five grand or whatever may be required to don a designer gown and help the suffering millions. Make sense?”
    â€œI guess.”
    â€œPlus, it’s fun. Trust me.”
    â€œBut, wait, sorry, just one more question. If we are just going to steal the stuff, why come here? Why not just go to Bloomingdale’s or something?”
    Heidi sighed. “First of all, I would never go to Bloomingdale’s. Second, these places have the same designer labels as the best stores, but everyone in there is a volunteer. There is practically no security at all. It’s so easy, Doreen, you’ll wonder why everyone doesn’t do it. Now let’s go. We have a lot to get to today.”
    Doreen resumed her pace beside Heidi. “Hey, you know what? I’m happy to go along. Seriously, you’ll get no judgment from me. But maybe I’ll just observe for a while. Would that be okay? I’ll just browse and not, like, take anything.”
    The girl’s resolve had shaken, but she would go along with the program, all right. Heidi was sure of that.
    â€œDo what you want, Doreen. Just be quiet about it, cool?”
    â€œYeah. Right. Cool. You got it.”
    The clothes. The shoes. The scarves. Everything was so, so tempting. And Doreen looked perfect in everything.
    â€œWe’ll donate, won’t we? When we’re older,” said Doreen as they walked between the Cancer Foundation and AIDS Research, her step swinging from the mint-condition Roger Vivier heels she’d worn out of the store.
    â€œOh, we’ll save the world, Doreen,” Heidi said. “We just need a little boost first.”

    â€œDoreen, you are a natural. Better than I ever expected. You see,” said Heidi, “when you look and act like you are in your rightful place, you are treated accordingly. It is simply the difference between feeling grateful and feeling entitled.”
    Doreen and Heidi sat at a little table in the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton hotel. Their haul of stolen clothes surrounded them, in shopping bags from real designer boutiques. Heidi had brought the bags along to transport their loot and add to the overall effect. And it worked. The girls looked exactly like a pair of society ladies relaxing after a tiring day of shopping.
    Heidi leaned forward provocatively and lowered her voice. “Do we have a room here? No. Can we afford a meal or a cocktail? No. But for a couple of dollars we can sit here all afternoon, drinking Diet Coke and feasting on free snacks. We can speak intimately with one another about things nobody else will understand, we can allow ourselves to be admired. And

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