To Be Frank

At Sixes and Sevens

The pile of clothes in my lap grows bigger and bigger with each passing minute.

"Nope, this ones too... Just, no," Nicole pretends to curtsy in front of the mirror with a frown and pulls of the dress she's currently trying on. "Here," she says, throwing it to me.

Rolling my eyes, I add it to the stack. That makes seven dresses, I count mentally.

"This is so frustrating," she says while taking another dress of its hanger. "I really want Frank to compliment me for the Fall Ball, but I can't find that one perfect dress."

Evidently, Frank decided to go with Nicole after gym class where she asked him nervously. She was thrilled he'd said yes. No hard feelings.

I sigh. "Either way Frank's going to compliment you. You're fine just the way you are."

Nicole turns to look at me, a huge grin now plastered on her face. "Really, Eli?"

"Yeah. Keep trying, and put that dress on," I rub my arms sorely. "Aren't you cold?"

She shrugs and turns back to face the mirror, still close-to-naked. "I think I'm too boyish. Do you know what type of girl Frank likes?"

"Yeah," I snort, "it's called Girl."

"Ha-ha, you're hilarious," Nicole slips on the red dress and twirls once. "I think this one's nice."

"It matches your eyes," I note. It really did bring out the light blueness, and matched her dirty blonde hair.

"Alright, this one it is," she grins and I toss the pile in my lap into the re-hanging bin on our way out of the change rooms.

The thing with Nicole is that she's the captain of the soccer and rugby team, but still knows how to pluck her eyebrows flawlessly and find the most complimentary shade of eyeshadow within minutes. Not that being an athlete and being fashionable are mutually exclusive, but Nicole was pretty darn classy for a girl who spent most of her time sweating on a field in our school's ugly maroon gym shorts.

She's always smiling, graceful, and of course, gorgeous. I like hanging around with her because she doesn't mind my goofiness, and won't bother converting me into the maquillage cults. Nicole's just the kind of person who everyone loves because she's so... good. She doesn't judge and is always kind, no matter who she's dealing with.

I'm glad we're best friends.

"What are you thinking about, Eli?" she pulls me to a side with our interlocked elbows, so that I don't walk into a mother with a baby stroller.

"Just about how your patience always seems to be endless," I say, and suck absentmindedly on my lollipop.

"Thank you, thank you," she chirps. "I try hard."

"I know you do," I say, giving her an affectionate pat on the head.

I feel a tug on my elbow, and am instantly yanked out of the stream of people. "Ooh, look, Eli! Twenty Two Always is having a sale right now!"

Nicole pulls me into the store which has indeed lowered their prices severely. She gazes at the clothed mannequins with awe, and dashes through a row of hanging dresses, pulling out random pieces of clothing and then shaking her head. A couple aisles in, I see a familiar face and my heart instantly crumples.

Jen Park, in all her stunning glory. What was she doing here?

"Nicole," I hiss, trying to get my friend's attention discreetly, "hey. Nic."

She looks up from her shopping endeavors and gives me a confused look. I wave her over to where I'm hiding, behind a rack of smelly returns.

"What?" she asks, joining me.