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have to be myself. Mom knocks on the door. "Any luck?"
"Be right out." I'm standing here in my pink bra and underwear. I feel so vulnerable.
Instinctively I cross my arms over my breasts.
"Try the sexy red one," she says.
I quickly grab another black dress, this one strapless with a pink sash. I zip it up and look
into the mirror. It hits me just right at my knees. Not too long and not too short. And I
can breathe in it. I feel it in my bones--this dress is it. Of course, the fact that I don't
immediately have the urge to tear it off is a good sign, too.
I swish back and forth and sneak peeks in the mirror. I look good. The dress
de-emphasizes my stomach and accentuates my boobs. It's like this dress was
custom-made for me.
It's definitely worthy of leaving the comfort of my stall, so I step out and twirl around.
"Ta-da!" I stand in front of Mom and Audrey.
They both look me up and down. Mom pulls at the fabric. I knew it. She hates it.
I look at Audrey and frown.
"It's nice," Mom says.
My eyes bug out. "Really?"
"Yes. It fits you well. They have it in white, too. Let me get it for you."
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I put my hands on my hips. "Mom, you can't expect me to travel too far out of my
comfort zone. The black is good."
"I like it," Audrey proclaims. "And it's great for dancing."
Dancing? No one said anything about dancing. Is that in my contract? I shake my head.
"Don't worry," Audrey says. "It'll be dark and half the school will be drunk. No one will
know if you dance like a toad."
"Thanks, that makes me feel much better." I roll my eyes.
"All right," Mom agrees. "It moves well, and black is always in style."
"Good, then I'm going to change." I point to my back. "Can somebody unzip me?"
Mom gently picks up my hair and loosens the zipper. Her fingers are cold against the
skin of my neck. I shiver. "I should just be glad you're not wearing sweats, right?" She
lets go of my hair.
"Uh-huh." I hold on to the sides of the dress. I can't believe I'm wearing this to my prom.
Unlike my mom, I never thought I'd really be going.
"Sure you don't want to try the shimmery red one?" Mom asks.
I don't bother turning around. "I'm sure." When you find something you like, don't push
it.
I quickly throw on my jeans and tee. I hand Mom the dress and meet Audrey over by the
handbags.
I pick up a black Juicy bag and read the price tag. Three hundred
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dollars. Double the price of my dress. "I still don't know if I should go through with this
contest. I could become really sick the night before the prom."
"Or Contestant Number 13 could be the man of your dreams." Audrey unzips a blinding
purple purse with a pocket for everything.
"I already thought of that, and the other possibilities, too." I pretend to slit my throat.
"It's just one night, and if Gavin's meant to be, it'll happen," Audrey says.
"He didn't even ask if I was going. I'm sure he assumes I'm not, but still ..." I look down
at my shoes. "That can't be a good thing."
Audrey pats my shoulder. "Maybe he didn't want to know."
"I never thought of that." I drape a sheer black scarf over my head.
"See, that's why you have me, to think of the things that you don't."
"Okay, evil twin sister." I hang the scarf back up. "I hope you're right."
"And if I'm not, you can make me disappear with your laser gun." She makes zapping
sounds. *
"I'll remember you said that." I watch as a plastic-surgery addict runs her fingers over a
cream-colored Coach bag and licks her collagen lips.
"Really?" Audrey puffs out her lips behind the woman's back.
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We both giggle and run to meet up with my mom. We find her looking at shoes.
"I thought you were paying," I say.
"You didn't think I'd let you wear sneakers to the prom, did you?" she asks. "No, not
really."
She hands me a few boxes, and I obediently try the sandals on. We actually agree on a
pair of black strappy two-inch heels. It's a miracle. Hopefully I can dance in them. Too
bad they don't come with lessons.
It's not too late to change your mind, half of me says as we wait in line at the register.
The other half says, Oh, yeah, it is. Still, I'm a bit freaked about the whole situation, but
hopefully it's something I can laugh about later. Yeah, like in fifty years, when I've
successfully found a way to live harmoniously with the aliens on Mars. Speaking of
aliens, does Plastic Surgery Lady know that she'd need a passport to get back to Earth if
she ever left the planet?
Mom pays and hands me the shopping bag.
"Thanks." I gulp.
"You're welcome," Mom says and walks toward the escalator. "Now come on, girls, let's
grab some lunch." We follow her down a level and end up at The Cheesecake Factory.
That's so unlike her. Maybe she has changed.
We walk over to the glass case with the cheesecakes while we wait for a table.
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"Oh, I want that one." Audrey points to a slice of cookie dough.
My eyes go wide. "No, I like Macadamia Nut."
"Carbs galore." Mom waves her finger. "Salads only. You want to fit in your prom
dresses, don't you?"
Okay, I was mistaken. The good fairy did not sprinkle my mom with a layer of sweetness.
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chapter TWENTY-FOUR
Where is she?" Mom's pacing back and forth in the front foyer like an expectant father
on an old sitcom. "Relax. She's only five minutes late. We have plenty of time." I throw
myself onto the living room couch in an attempt to relax. I haven't sat down since the
end of school when the bell rang at two-thirty. I don't know why they had to have the
prom on a Friday. Everyone was rushing around like crazy, and all my classes were half
empty. Even the teachers seemed distracted, discussing where they were going to get
their hair done and if their dresses from last year would still fit.
I can't even get comfortable on the couch. My insides are churning, and not because
Pop-Tart is late. I'm freaked because
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if she does show, it means I really have to go through with this. She'll be one more
person cheering me on all the way to the finish line. One more person stopping me
from ditching the prom and becoming the next face on a milk carton.
Mom peers through the peephole in the front door. "I knew we should've used Pamela."
"Mom, Kelly will be here. Trust me." I hope. I turn to the window and stare at the circular
drive. It's still a couple of hours until sunset, but the moon is already in place. Maybe it's
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