* * *
That night, after Jake drives me home, we sit on my porch swing. The last time I was here, I was so nervous about even mentioning Winter Formal to him. Funny how things can change.
“Did you have fun?” I ask him.
“I always have fun with you,” Jake says. “It was nice to meet more of your friends too.”
“They thought you were great.”
“Glad I passed the test,” he replies with a smile.
“Haha. Just stating a fact. There was no test,” I say.
Jake takes my hand. “I wish we could hang out more, but my dad is excited about having me home for the holidays. He made all these plans for us, starting tomorrow.”
I’m bummed but try to stay upbeat. “We’ll keep talking, texting, and emailing, like we always do.”
“And there’s prom,” Jake adds quickly. “Assuming you have time to go in between all the dresses you’ll apparently be designing. And assuming you plan on asking me, that is.”
I rub my chin, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, you make the cut.” We sit quietly for a few minutes, and then I add, “For now, I’d like to borrow Dan’s idea.”
“What’s that?” asks Jake.
“To not think about the future,” I say.
Jake gives me a hug. “That Dan is a smart guy.”
For the next few minutes, for a change, I focus only on the present.
“I can’t believe Mimi invited us to her holiday party this year!” Mia exclaims as we wait for Mimi to open the door.
The invite was very last minute, which is very Mimi. Two days after Winter Formal, she called me and said she loved working with us this year and was going to miss us and would love it if we came to her party. A week later, here we are.
“Do you think we’ll see any movie stars?” Jada asks. “I’ve lived in California since the summer and still haven’t seen one!”
I can’t help but laugh. Jada could certainly pass for a movie star in a black silk tank, paired with loose-fitting gold pants and black heels. It’s easy to imagine her look at a post-Oscars party. But the likelihood of us seeing an actual celebrity in Santa Cruz? Slim to none.
I pat her hand. “I’ve lived here my whole life and still haven’t seen one. Don’t get your hopes up. I bet Mimi has famous friends, but probably old-school famous.”
“It would still be cool to hear their stories,” says Nina. “I love when Mimi tells us about her days in Hollywood.”
As if she heard her name, Mimi chooses that moment to open the door. “Welcome,” she says, ushering us inside and giving all of us hugs. She’s wearing a floor-length velvet gown sewn with silver embroidery and a draped neckline.
We step into Mimi’s marble-floored foyer. Holiday decorations are displayed at the entryway. There are guests in fancy dresses chatting on the staircase leading upstairs and standing in the huge living room sprawled out in front of us. Past the living room’s glass doors, I spot even more guests milling about in Mimi’s garden. There must be more than one hundred people here!
“Didn’t you say this would be a small party?” I say.
“Oh, darling,” says Mimi, “back in the day this would be called an intimate gathering.”
“Your home is beautiful,” says Nina. “I might be underdressed.” Nina looks party-ready in a gold sequined cocktail dress with a black ribbon tied around the waist.
Mimi shakes her head. “Nonsense. You fit right in.”
I agree with Mimi, but I get what Nina means. Mimi’s home is so impressive, I feel like I should be wearing something more red-carpet ready. However, I feel confident in today’s outfit — even though I almost chickened out and didn’t wear it. It’s a strapless jumpsuit with a deep V-neck in bright fuchsia. It’s a very un-Chloe color, but the New Year will be here in less than a week, and I’m starting it off early and with a bang.
“Enjoy yourselves and mingle,” says Mimi with a small wave. “Food will be out shortly. Until then, enjoy the hors d’oeuvres.”
My friends and I mill around together, collecting appetizers on our plates. “I’m so glad we’re here together,” I say. “I’d be a little intimidated to be here alone.”
We walk to a far corner of the room, where an empty sofa awaits. Alex sits on its arm, glass in one hand and white, feathered clutch in the other. Her strappy V-neck camisole and sequin pants remind me of an outfit I’ve seen on Lola James in a fashion magazine. “I could get used to this,” she says, taking a sip of her juice.
“Not me,” I say. “I’ll be the mysterious name behind the label.”
“That works for me,” says Nina. “I don’t need you stealing my spotlight.” She pretends to elbow me out of the way.
“And we return to the big question,” says Mia, adjusting her fitted sparkly dress and black tights. “Will this label be in Cali or New York?”
Jada groans. “We’re having a good time. Why bring that up?”
“Yeah,” says Alex. “I’m pulling a Dan and living in the now.”
Mia holds up her hands surrender style. “It was just a question. Sheesh.”
My eyes twinkle. “Well, if we’re talking strictly about my future imaginary label, won’t it be everywhere? New York, Paris, California, Milan…”
Nina gives me a high-five. “Good answer, Chloe.” She looks around the room, pulls out her phone, and types something into it. “That woman’s gown just gave me an idea for a prom dress design.”
Alex groans. “Don’t you ever rest?”
Nina shrugs. “Sketching and creating makes me happiest, and when I get an idea I need to jot something down immediately so I don’t forget.”
“Chloe’s the same way,” says Alex, smiling. She looks around the room and nods at someone. “That one.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“That knee-length strapless dress will be my prom dress inspiration. Write it down, Chloe,” Alex says, winking.
I laugh and make a note in my phone.
“This is a good game,” Mia says. She glances at the patio doors. “I pick the woman with the spiky pink hair. I love that long blue gown. The color is so fun and vibrant.”
We look around the room, picking out more dress inspiration. This party is exactly what I needed. Tomorrow, Nina and I have plans to mail our applications together since they have the same deadline. It was actually Alex’s idea; she’s doing the same thing with Mia in January.
“Let’s make a toast,” says Alex.
We all raise our glasses of juice and soda.
“To good friends,” Nina begins.
“To good times,” Jada says.
“To new friends,” says Alex, glancing at Nina.
“To new experiences,” Mia adds.
“And to always finding a way to get together, no matter how far away we all go,” I finish.
“You do realize how dorky we are, right?” Nina says the next day. We’re sitting at Nina’s kitchen table, laptops open and our portfolio requirements ready to be uploaded.
“Sending our applications at the same time is not that weird,” I argue.
“No, but dressing up to do it is.”
“That was all your idea!” I say, laughing.
Nina blushes. “I know, but you went along with it.”
“That’s because I’m dorky too. Besides, it’s not like we’re in our Winter Formal dresses or anything.”
Nina’s idea was to make this sending of our applications totally college-themed and to wear something we might wear the first day of classes. Since we’re applying to schools in California and New York, we flipped a coin to see who got which style. Nina got Cali, and I got New York.
I feel a little silly sitting in Nina’s kitchen in a black leather skirt, loose white blouse, and black ankle boots, but Nina’s outfit — a denim jacket over a l
ilac-colored dress with flower print — isn’t necessarily typical hanging around the house attire either.
“It does make this a little more fun, doesn’t it?” asks Nina.
“Yep,” I say, pulling up the FIDM website, “but I’m still nervous.”
“Good,” says Nina. “I thought it was just me. I mean, why are we so nervous? It’s not like we’re going to find out if we got in immediately.”
“Exactly,” I say. “And it’s not like something big happens once we hit send.”
Nina moves her mouse absently. She sighs. “This is going to sound dumb, but it’s almost a letdown finally submitting everything.”
“What do you mean?”
Nina thinks about what she’s trying to say. “I’ve worked on these designs and applications for so long; it’s all I’ve done for months. Once I send everything in, I won’t know what to do with myself!”
I laugh. “I know exactly what you mean. I kind of feel the same way, but then I remind myself that I can have a life again, and I feel better.”
Nina grins. “A life that doesn’t involve being holed up in my room working on my portfolio?” she jokes. “What’s that like?”
I laugh. “I’ll let you know when I find out.” I take a deep breath. “We should probably get started. I have the FIDM site ready.”
Nina pulls up the site on her laptop, and we both start attaching our documents and drawings, which we’ve already scanned so we have electronic versions. I start with my series on Alex’s evolving style. It’s like a trip down memory lane for me. It’s been fun remembering Alex’s old looks and how they’ve changed.
When I’m done, I move on to the bathing suit line. Who would’ve thought that when I started creating these, I’d be inspired to create Alex’s Winter Formal dress too?
“How’s it going?” asks Nina.
“Almost ready to hit send on all my FIDM stuff,” I say. “You?”
Nina checks something in her notes and then types on her laptop. “Same.”
“Let’s do it,” I say. “One.”
“Two,” says Nina.
“Three,” I say. We hit our buttons at the same time, and it’s done. The first application is off and floating in cyberspace.
“Is it weird I got a rush out of that?” asks Nina.
“We’re sitting here in back-to-school outfits,” I say. “This entire day is weird.”
“True,” Nina says, laughing. “Parsons next?”
“Why not?” I gather the Parsons requirements. I admire all the formal dresses I designed for the themed clothing line. When I started putting the designs side-by-side for my portfolio, it was cool to see the range in dress styles and colors. I like seeing bits of myself in each of them.
“Ready?” asks Nina, her mouse hovering over the send button once more.
I nod, and we count down again before hitting send.
“One left,” I say. Excited, I pull up my pop star designs for FIT. Nina does the same.
“These Diana Gardo styles were probably my favorite to draw,” Nina comments. She looks away from her laptop and sits back in her chair. “Being able to stretch my designing skills was what I liked best about this whole process. If I hadn’t been required to create that fall line or play with edgy styles like I did for Diana’s look, I would have never known I could design out of my comfort zone. Apparently, there’s a world beyond florals and pastels.” She laughs.
“That’s what I loved best, too,” I say. “It was beyond stressful, but now that I’m done, I’m less scared to try out new design elements.”
“It’s good prep for college no matter where we end up,” Nina adds. “All the schools have high expectations. We might as well start getting used to it.”
“Right,” I agree. “Let’s get this done, so we can make the most of the time we have to chill out. Knowing what’s ahead for us makes me even more determined to relax now.”
“True,” says Nina. “Are we counting down again?”
“How else can we make sure we send them at the exact same time?” I ask, grinning.
“I’m just glad no one’s recording this. This is dorkiness at its finest.”
“One,” I say.
“Two,” says Nina.
“Three.”
We hit send one last time and then sit back. After months of stress and hard work, all three applications — FIT, FIDM, and Parsons — are officially done and sent. All that’s left to do now is wait.
It’s March, and I’m sitting on my living room floor, three thick envelopes at my feet.
“This is the big moment, huh?” asks my mom.
“Do you want privacy while you open them?” asks Dad.
“Definitely not,” I say shakily.
“Which one first?” Mom asks.
“Let’s go with FIDM,” I say. I run my nail under the envelope seal, opening it carefully so I don’t rip anything important. I quickly scan the first page of the packet, but it’s the first word — CONGRATULATIONS — that’s key.
“I got in,” I whisper.
My parents hug me, and I give them the packet to read for themselves in case I imagined it.
“We’re so proud of you, honey,” my dad says.
“Parsons next?” I ask. I open it quickly, less carefully than the first. This time I stop reading at the first word. “I got in here, too!” I shout.
“I had no doubt,” Mom says proudly.
“Shall we make it three for three?” asks Dad.
Unable to contain my excitement, I tear open FIT’s envelope. I rip the first page, but only the heading — another CONGRATULATIONS.
“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe this!” I shout.
“I can,” Mom says, voice wobbly. She swallows and wipes at her eyes before speaking. “You’re a determined young lady, Chloe. You worked so hard to get here, and all that is paying off.”
“Now that it’s official,” Dad says, “you’ll have to make a choice.”
“I know.” I stare at the three packets. I think about the fun I had with my friends the past few months. I think about Jake in New York.
“And?” Mom asks.
“I’ve pretty much decided,” I admit. “But I want to think about it a little more.”
“You have until May,” Dad points out. “That’s plenty of time.”
“Plenty of time to obsess,” Mom says, laughing.
I laugh too, but for once I’m not freaking out. “That’s the thing,” I say. “I don’t feel like that anymore. I’ll be okay no matter where I go. Each school and city has its pros and cons.”
“Wow,” says my dad. “I’m impressed with this new, evolved Chloe.”
“Does this mean you’ll no longer be our little worrier?” Mom asks.
“Let’s not get crazy,” I say with a laugh. “We all know I haven’t gotten a totally new personality. I’m sure I’ll still look at everything from a hundred different angles and wonder if I made the right decision. But as far as this college thing goes, I guess I’ve made peace with it.”
“It probably helps that all those things you were worrying about at once are done,” Mom says. She counts off on her fingers. “Finishing your portfolio, designing the Winter Formal dresses, worrying about whether or not you’d get in at all… put that all together with deciding where to go, and it became this Mt. Everest of decisions.”
I nod slowly. “Probably. I learned a lot from all of it, though. But that doesn’t mean I’m not relieved it’s all done,” I add with a laugh.
“Very true,” says Dad.
“Well, I believe you have some phone calls to make,” Mom says. “I’m sure you want to share the good news.”
I nod. A few months ago, I would have been nervous to call Jake and Alex. I would have worried about their reactions, but now I know they’ll be h
appy for me no matter what. We each have our own journey, and part of the excitement is in how we’ll all get there.
Margaret Gurevich has wanted to be a writer since second grade and has written for many magazines, including Girls’ Life, SELF, and Ladies’ Home Journal. Her first young adult novel, Inconvenient, was a Sydney Taylor Notable Book for Teens, and her second novel, Pieces of Us, garnered positive reviews from Kirkus, VOYA, and Publishers Weekly, which called it “painfully believable.” When not writing, Margaret enjoys hiking, cooking, reading, watching too much television, and spending time with her husband and son.
Brooke Hagel is a fashion illustrator based in New York City. While studying fashion design at the Fashion Institute of Technology, she began her career as an intern, working in the wardrobe department of Sex and the City, the design studios of Cynthia Rowley, and the production offices of Saturday Night Live. After graduating, Brooke began designing and styling for Hearst Magazines, contributing to Harper’s Bazaar, House Beautiful, Seventeen, and Esquire. Brooke is now a successful illustrator with clients including Vogue, Teen Vogue, InStyle, Dior, Brian Atwood, Hugo Boss, Barbie, Gap, and Neutrogena.
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