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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
"You know, it's just a school dance. No need to go all out," said sixteen-year-old Hazel Nielsen as she carefully applied a thin layer of pink gloss to her chapped lips.
Arya Flores stood with her hands on her hips in front of her full-length mirror, a frown crossing her face as she inspected herself in a short, velvety red dress.
"Mm-mm," She shook her head at Hazel's comment, marching over to her closet, "This is homecoming, Hazel. Not just some dance. Your outfit has to be perfect. Especially if Cooper-freakin'-Hayes is your date."
Hazel tried not to roll her eyes as her mind went back to a week ago, when Cooper, the tall, athletic basketball player of every girl (but Hazel)'s dreams, had asked Arya to the dance. Hazel kept her mouth shut all week about her secret hatred for her best friend's boyfriend, not wanting to ruin Arya's big night.
"Okay, how 'bout this one?" Arya held up a tropical-print halter top dress.
"It's nice," Hazel said, fighting off a yawn.
"Hmm. You said the red one looked cute. Cute is better than nice." Arya put the tropical dress back, finally making up her mind. "You sure you don't wanna borrow one of my dresses, Haze-y? You look a little..."
"A little what?"
"I mean, you look cute! Really, really cute. But...you know how people say 'wear something you'd be okay with your grandma seeing you in?' Well, your grandma would probably...mistake you for herself."
Hazel stood up and spun around in her floral-print sundress. She wore butterfly clips in her pale blonde hair. "What's wrong with this?"
"Nothing! Nothing. Never mind. You look cute."
There was a knock at the door. "You ladies all done in there?"
Arya's mom came into the room. As soon as she saw her daughter, she let out an awestruck gasp. "Oh, Ary, honey, you look adorable! Mind if I snap a quick pic of you in your dress?"
"Okay, fine. But get Hazel in there, too." Arya put her arm around her friend. Hazel smiled tightly as the quick double-flash of Mrs. Flores's digital camera temporarily blinded her.
"Okay, we're leaving now. Bye, mom." Arya took Hazel by the arm, dragging her off.
"Ah, I remember my high school days," Mrs. Flores sighed, leaning against the doorframe as the two girls clumsily descended the stairs in their heels. "Enjoy your youth, ladies, while you can!"
"Okay, mom."
"Thank you, Mrs. Flores," Hazel said, buttoning up her cardigan, bracing for the cold.
"Have fun, Hazel. Arya, honey, I want you home by nine! On the dot! No afterparties, got it?"
Arya rolled her eyes, her false lashes fluttering.
