When Felicity caught sight of Yolanda, she had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. The shop owner’s clothes appeared to have been sewn from the interior decorator’s discarded fabric scraps. She wore heart-shaped sunglasses and at least fifteen strands of pink glass beads, and her bright red hair was teased into a massive mushroom cloud. She was holding a mug in each hand, and when she saw Haylie, she gasped and sloshed coffee over both bangle-clad wrists. “Oh my goddess! It’s Haylie Adams!”
Felicity and Ivy exchanged a mortified look and mouthed, “Oh my goddess?” but Haylie didn’t miss a beat. “Hi, Yolanda, it’s good to see you!” she said. “These are my best friends, Felicity and Ivy. We’re looking for pageant gowns!”
Yolanda put down her coffees and squeezed Haylie tightly. “Your darling mom told me you were competing in Miss Scarlet! Congratulations, sweet pea! What an achievement!” When Haylie finally managed to escape, Yolanda shook Felicity’s and Ivy’s hands with painful enthusiasm. Felicity gaped at her jeweled skull-and-crossbones ring, which was the size of an Oreo.
“Tell me exactly what you’re looking for!” Yolanda said, and Haylie promptly pulled out her catalogs. As she described her dream dress, using wild hand gestures, Felicity started drifting through the clothing racks. Ivy trailed her reluctantly.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Ivy said. She picked up a turquoise velvet sleeve with two fingers, holding it as if it might be infested with fleas.
“Here, I’ll help you. Let’s look for stuff for you first, and we’ll deal with my dress later, okay? Give me some guidelines.”
“No pink. No white. No sequins. Nothing that makes me look like a layer cake or a bridesmaid in Barbie’s dream wedding.”
“Got it.” Felicity dug through a rack for a minute and held up a blue chiffon dress. “How about this?”
Ivy wrinkled her nose. “Too ballroom dancer.”
“All right, what about this one?” Felicity offered a black gown covered with gold flowers.
“That looks like my grandmother’s couch upholstery.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” She pulled out a sparkly green dress and held it up next to Ivy’s face. “This color looks nice with your eyes.”
“I’d look like the Little Mermaid in that.”
“Ivy, you have to try on something.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just pick stuff out, and I’ll put it on. You guys can dress me up like the pliable little doll that I am.”
Haylie had finished explaining her criteria to Yolanda, and they both came over to join the search. Yolanda peered at the scowling Ivy with concern. “What’s the matter, honeybunch?”
“Ivy hates shopping,” Haylie and Felicity explained in unison.
“Tell me what you want, and if it’s here, I’ll find it, sweet thing. That’s my job.”
Ivy repeated her guidelines. Yolanda assessed her carefully over her sunglasses, then ordered Ivy to take off her hoodie. She pulled a neon-pink tape measure out of her cleavage, took a few quick measurements, and beamed. “I know just the thing,” she said as she bustled off.
Ivy flopped down on a puffy ottoman printed with giant peonies. “I’m going to end up looking like a drag queen, aren’t I?”
“Don’t worry. Yolanda’s really good at this,” Haylie promised.
“As good as she is at decorating?”
“Just wait. You’ll see.” Haylie started purposefully plowing through the racks.
A few minutes later, Yolanda returned. “Voilà,” she said, presenting a dress to Ivy with a flourish.
The gown was silvery blue-gray, pleated and draped in a way that looked almost Grecian. There was some silver embroidery around the edges, but for the most part, it was simple and understated. Ivy’s eyes widened. “Wow,” she said. “That’s actually … not bad at all.”
“It’s perfect,” Felicity said as Haylie bounced up and down and clapped. “Put it on!”
As Ivy disappeared into one of the Pepto-Bismol-colored fitting rooms, Felicity asked, “How did you do that? Ivy hates all dresses.”
Yolanda shrugged, her beads clinking together. “I’m good at reading people’s energy. I thought that dress would complement Ivy’s aura. Oh no, babycakes,” she said, snatching a purple sequined sheath out of Haylie’s hands. “Your chakras clash with that color.”
When Ivy stepped out of the fitting room, obviously uncomfortable but also grudgingly pleased, Felicity’s jaw almost hit the ground. For the first time since elementary school, Ivy looked like a girl. It was fascinating.
“Ives, you look awesome!” Felicity said.
“How does it feel?” asked Yolanda. “Are you comfortable? Is it the right length? Will you be able to walk in it in heels?”
“It’s good,” Ivy said. “I’ll take it.”
Haylie’s eyes widened. “But it’s the first dress! I mean, it’s great, but don’t you want to try—”
“No. It’s good. I’m done.” Ivy shut herself back into the fitting room.
Things didn’t go so quickly for Felicity and Haylie. Yolanda brought them gown after gown that “matched their chakras,” but none of them seemed like The One. After an hour of scouring the store, Yolanda ran out of dresses to offer. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be today, chickadees,” she said as she rang up Ivy’s purchase. “At least the universe smiled on one of you.”
“It’s all right, Yolanda,” Haylie said. “You were so helpful.”
“You’re a superhero,” Ivy declared. “Hopefully I won’t ever need another dress, but if I do, I’m coming back here.”
“Aw, thanks, boo-boo.” Yolanda handed Ivy the dress and took a huge gulp of one of her cold, stale coffees. “You girls have a great day, now. Haylie, say hi to your adorable momsie for me. May the goddess be with you, now and always.”
“You too,” Felicity said, trying to keep a straight face. Ivy unsuccessfully tried to stifle a snort.
Four stores later, neither Felicity nor Haylie had a dress, and Ivy had long ago grown tired of playing games on her phone. “Can’t you two just pick something?” she moaned as they approached boutique number five. “It’s just a dress. It really doesn’t matter that much!”
“Easy for you to say, Little Miss The-First-Thing-I-Tried-On-Was-Perfect,” Haylie snapped.
Felicity was just opening her mouth to soothe her friends when she saw The Dress. It was royal blue, her favorite color, with a full, sweeping skirt and a small train. The top was a halter, and there was a delicate pattern of sparkly silver flowers that started at the right strap and meandered down across the left hip. She knew without a doubt that it was meant to be hers.
She approached the gown reverently. It was just as beautiful up close, and the fabric felt silky and expensive between her fingers. Though it was a little pricier than she’d hoped, it wasn’t unreasonable. She turned to call her friends over, but Haylie was already by her side, her eyes the size of hubcaps. “Oh my God,” she gasped. “It’s the perfect dress!”
“I know!” Felicity clawed through the hangers until she found the gown in her size. Only when she had it in her hands did she realize that Haylie was searching through the rack with equal enthusiasm. “Hays, it’s okay, I found one.”
Haylie looked at the dress Felicity was holding, perplexed. “That’s a size six.”
“Well, yeah. That’s my size.”
Haylie pulled a size two off the rack and hugged it to her chest, comprehension slowly dawning on her face. “Oh no. You want this one?”
Felicity stared at her friend across the rack of identical gowns, and Haylie stared back. Of all the dresses in Iowa City, how could they fall in love with the same one? Felicity tried to tell herself it was just a dress. Surely she could find another, and it would make Haylie so happy to have this one. But she couldn’t make herself back down. She needed that prize money far more than Haylie did. She had to look her very best for this competition, and she knew she could do that in this gown.
She
tried to think of something articulate to say, but all she came up with was “Well, this totally sucks.”
“Why don’t we both try it on?” Haylie suggested. “Whichever one of us looks better in it gets it. And the other one has to promise not to be upset. It’s just a dress, right?”
“How will we decide who looks better?”
Felicity and Haylie both turned to Ivy, who said, “Oh, hell no. I am not getting involved in this.” She was out of the store so fast it was as if she had vaporized.
Haylie sighed as she watched Ivy retreat. “I guess we can decide for ourselves, right? We’re always honest with each other.”
Felicity thought of all the times she’d lied to Haylie in small ways over the past few weeks. I can’t come over—I have to pick up the twins. I only let Gabby sit at our lunch table because I felt bad for her. I put sandalwood oil in my hair because I love how it smells. Nothing’s wrong, I’m just tired. A huge wave of guilt crashed over her. But those lies couldn’t be helped. They were for her protection. This time, she would be forthright.
“Of course. I’m sure we can be impartial,” she said.
They found the fitting rooms in the back of the store, each of them carrying her dress as if it were a precious relic. There were two blondes and a brunette waiting in line, and Haylie shoved right past them. “Um, excuse you,” one of the blondes snapped. “There’s a line.”
Haylie stared at her. “But we’re red—” she began before Felicity grabbed her shoulder and gently pulled her back.
“Sorry,” Felicity said to the girls. Even at home in Scarletville, she tried not to cut lines, though redheads who did usually weren’t frowned upon.
The blonde eyed Haylie’s Scarletville High School Dance Troupe T-shirt with disgust, then turned away. “Scarletville girls,” she muttered to her friend. “They think they’re God’s gift to the universe.”
“Someone needs to learn her place,” Haylie whispered, and Felicity’s stomach twisted. She gave a noncommittal smile in response.
They only had to wait a few minutes before two fitting rooms opened up. Just before Haylie closed her door, she turned to Felicity and said, “Listen, I really don’t want us to fight about this dress, okay? So if either of us starts getting mad or upset, nobody gets it, and we’ll both find something else to wear. Deal?” She stuck out her tiny manicured hand.
Felicity was touched; she could see in her friend’s eyes how much she wanted the dress. “Deal,” she agreed, then shut the door behind her.
The dress felt alive in her hands as Felicity unzipped it, stepped inside, and pulled the silky fabric up around her body. There was an unexpected slit in the skirt that reached the middle of her thigh, just high enough to be sexy but low enough to be classy. When she zipped it and tied the halter top, the gown embraced her like an old friend. She turned around to look in the mirror, and her heart fluttered when she saw her reflection. Her very best self was smiling back at her.
“How’s it going in there?” called Haylie.
“Good. You?”
There was a little pause. “Good. You ready to come out?”
“Yeah, are you?”
“Yeah.”
Felicity stood with her hand on the doorknob for a long moment. Until she saw Haylie, she could pretend this dress was hers. She glanced back at her reflection one last time, admiring how the fabric hugged her body as if it had been made for her. But she heard Haylie’s door creaking open, and she knew it was time to face her friend.
She took a deep breath and stepped out of the dressing room.
For a full fifteen seconds, the girls appraised each other in silence. Haylie looked beautiful in the gown, but she was a little too short for it. The slit in the skirt hit her leg in a weird place, and three inches of silky fabric puddled around her feet. But those things could be corrected with a little tailoring. A voice in the back of Felicity’s mind whispered, Give up the dress. Haylie deserves this more than you, you big artie fake.
She opened her mouth to tell Haylie how beautiful she looked, but her friend cut her off before she could say a word. “You look better in it,” she announced. “It’s meant for someone taller. You win. It’s yours.” Though she was clearly disappointed, she sounded sincere.
A strange mixture of guilt and joy suffused Felicity, and she struggled to keep her voice even. “Are you sure? You look really great in it, too.”
“Not as good as you. It’s okay, Felicity. I want you to have it. It’s your perfect dress, not mine.”
If Haylie really wanted her to have it, maybe it was okay to accept it after all. Maybe the universe was trying to tell her something. She’d show everyone she deserved it. She would win that crown, earn that prize money, use it to move her family to a redder neighborhood, just like her mom wanted. She would do this dress justice.
Felicity swooped in and hugged Haylie, squeezing her so hard she squeaked like a rubber chew toy. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” she said. “We’re going to find your perfect dress, even if we have to drive all the way to Des Moines.”
After Haylie retreated to her fitting room, Felicity did a silent happy dance, jumping in circles and shaking her butt. The most beautiful dress in the world was hers. She could barely stand to take it off and change back into her jeans. From the fitting room, she texted Brent and her mom that she’d found the perfect pageant gown.
A minute later, she received responses from both of them:
BRENT: cool. bet you look hott.
MOM: BABY I AM SO EXCITED FOR YOU CANT WAIT TO SEE IT LOVE MOM.
Haylie didn’t find anything suitable at the fifth boutique, but the sixth store had a promising selection. As Ivy napped on a bench outside the door, Felicity scurried back and forth between the racks and the fitting rooms, fetching Haylie new sizes and colors. At last they found a backless teal gown with just the right amount of sparkle and sophistication for Haylie. Felicity saw her friend’s eyes light up as she gazed at her own reflection, and she knew Haylie had finally found her perfect gown.
Speeding down the highway back to Scarletville with her two best friends and her new dress, Felicity was perfectly content. Her garment bag swayed gently on the hook in the backseat, and every time she glimpsed it in the rearview mirror, a little jolt of excitement coursed through her.
As they sped past the sign informing them that they were entering the Red Zone, Haylie asked, “Hey, when’s the prom court nomination assembly? It’s got to be really soon, right?”
Students at Scarletville High had been electing their prom royalty in the same ritualized way since the school was founded. All the juniors and seniors attended the assembly, where students stood up one by one and announced their nominations for king and queen. Each nomination had to be seconded, and each person was only allowed to nominate or second for one boy and one girl. Then the names of all the nominees went on a ballot, which everyone received during prom week. The top five winners comprised the prom court, and the king and queen were announced on prom night.
“The assembly’s on Friday,” Felicity said. “Madison’s going to talk about it during announcements on Monday.”
Haylie squealed and bounced in her seat. “Ooh, yay! I’ll nominate you if you nominate me, okay? And Brent can second for you, and Ivy can second for me. Is that all right, Ives? I assume you don’t want to be nominated.”
Ivy snorted. “No, that’s okay. I’m willing to make this enormous sacrifice for you.”
“Sounds great,” Felicity said. A senior almost always won for prom queen, but it was a status symbol even to be nominated. It would be a nice boost to her red cred.
They stopped at Hy-Vee for staples on the way home: Twizzlers, Sour Patch Kids, Doritos, microwave popcorn, and a tub of cookie dough ice cream. Finally, they arrived at Haylie’s house, where they changed into pajamas, sprawled on the squishy couches in the living room, and immersed themselves in sugar and mindless entertainment.
By the time they had demolished the j
unk food and watched three horrible B movies about oversized insects, it was nearly two in the morning. Felicity lay on the floor next to Haylie, her hair spread out on the carpet like seaweed and her feet propped on the couch next to Ivy’s head. A single lamp glowed softly in the corner of the dark peaceful room. Felicity was in a sugar-and-salt-induced daze that made her feel queasy, jittery, and exhausted in equal parts, but she was happy. She had almost forgotten what it was like to relax. This day with her friends had been so blissfully normal, and it felt like a gift, with her perfect dress shining on top like a giant bow.
Just as she was drifting toward sleep, she heard Haylie say, “Can I ask you something?”
“Me? Yeah, okay.”
“What’s been up with you lately? You’ve been acting so weird at school.”
Felicity’s brain registered that this was a dangerous question, but her body was too tired to react with much alarm. “What do you mean? Weird how?”
“Sort of twitchy and jumpy, like you think someone’s following you. And why are you suddenly talking to brunettes all the time? You’re going to start getting a reputation if you keep doing that.” Haylie nudged Ivy’s head with her toes. “Don’t you think, Ives?”
Ivy yawned. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. We’ve been kind of worried about you.”
“What is this, some kind of intervention?” Felicity tried to keep her tone light.
She felt Haylie shake her head. “We’re not trying to put you on the spot or anything. But maybe we can help if you tell us what’s wrong.”
Felicity desperately wanted to spill the whole story, but she knew she couldn’t. “I don’t know. Nothing. Everything.”
“Well, that’s specific,” said Ivy.
Felicity had to give them something. She chose her words carefully, trying to lie as little as possible. “I just feel like … I don’t know. There’s a lot going on all of a sudden, and I feel like maybe I don’t deserve everything I’m getting. The pageant and the art show and you guys and Brent and everything. I just keep thinking I’m going to get … exposed as a fraud or something. Like maybe I’m not really this person everyone thinks I am. And when they realize they’ve made a mistake, I’m going to lose it all.”
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