I starred at myself in the mirror. This dress didn’t look right either. None of them did. I didn’t even want to be here right now. Then there was a knock on the dressing room door.

“Stace, are you okay?” asked Liza, who had already picked out a puffy pink dress for prom.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, opening the door. “Can you get the zipper, I don’t like this one,”.

Each dress was either too long or too short, too sparkly or too lifeless, too pink or…too not pink, and Liza was really giving me a head ache.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, closing the door in her face. I wanted to go home. I was stressed out and I didn’t even know why. Was I just being a grump, or was I just thinking about Matt?

When I finally had my clothes back on, I left the dressing room.
“I’m gonna go home,” I said to Liza. She suddenly frowned.
“But you didn’t get a dress,”.
“I know, I’ll probably go shopping another time,”.

We said our goodbyes and I left. I only had to walk sixteen blocks in my Chanel high heels to get home.