My Beautiful Mind

16.

If I have to flip through one more rack of dresses, I might start using them to strangle someone. I peek over my current rack of clothes to find Cordelia in the same predicament. She's just sitting on the carpeted floor of the department store bored out of her mind, having given up on looking after five minutes. Adela doesn't seem to be too thrilled about it either, but flips through the racks determined to just get this over with and focus on the 'fun stuff' like the fakes and guns. The only one truly enjoying herself is Emy who holds up dresses for us to see if we like it or not, her own dress already chosen maybe fifteen minutes into the search. She's picked out a sleeveless olive cocktail dress with shimmers of golden bronze that accentuates her dainty shoulders and slender neck–a dress that could've been designed solely with her in mind. Mila, although not too excited about the whole trip to San Diego, finds a long sleeved, slight v-neck dark plum one and drapes it over her arm with a relieved sigh.

If there's one thing the girls and I share, it's our preference towards simpler, less flashy and gaudy clothing, and with racks upon racks of bejeweled, neon party dresses, we might be here for awhile. It seems as though Emy and Mila are the only lucky ones. "I will wear only black, navy, and grey," Cordelia snaps for the fifth time as a snickering Emy puts back a hot pink number that she joking pulled out to spite her. I sigh and return to my sifting until almost an hour later I find a burgundy high neck sleeveless dress with lace accents. Emy spots me inspecting it and plucks the hanger out of my hand to approve it herself. She beams and practically pushes me towards the dressing rooms where I confirm it's a perfect fit. When I come back, Cordelia's got a dress whose sweetheart bodice and skirt are made up of a glittering black satin and sheer long sleeves and neckline. To everyone's relief, Cordelia's quite satisfied with her find. Four down, one to go.

Emy sidles up to Adela who flips through the racks quickly to avoid keeping us waiting for long. "Take as much time as you need. We are not going to make you settle for anything less." As the girls spread out in the entire dress department, I make my way over to a rack none of us have looked through yet in the very back. I push aside a few gowns before a flash of silver catches my eye. When I shove aside the dresses to get a better look of it, I suck in a breath. In its metallic silver glory, a cold-shoulder sleeved, shift dress beckons to be worn by a certain girl whose hair is only a few shades lighter. I take care to remove it from the rack and weave through displays and discarded clothing on the floor to where Adela is slowly losing hope. "Be sure to wear this with your hair down," I say softly to a messily ponytailed Adela. She and all the other girls have the same reaction to the dress and it needs no convincing on my part to try it on. We leave the department store exhausted, but satisfied.

After the near three hour nightmare, I make a mental note to never go there again.

*****

A rectangular-shaped plastic card clatters onto the edge of my desk and I look up from my writing with a start. "Happy New Year's Eve. Start off the year right with a fake that's not really a fake," Adela says. I warily pick up the ID and blink. On an authentic California driver's license is the exact picture and information on my New York one. "How did you get all the info?" I ask, waving the card in her face. Adela smirks, "I may have went through your wallet and Mila's the day we went to buy our dresses. Cordelia's and Emy's were a pain the ass though, but they're also completely legal too. Officially, with birth certificates and SS numbers, you four exist in my universe." I raise my eyebrows, impressed with the thoroughness of her work–I guess being an engineered entity has its perks. "Then I guess you really don't need to be saving up for an apartment with Alex if you can cheat the system like this." She laughs and shakes her head, "I want to work for the things that mean the most to me. It wouldn't be much of a life otherwise."

She sits in the gray chair and blows a strand of hair from her face. "I dropped off everyone else's IDs already. I'm picking up the guns tomorrow so we should be ready for the West Coast on the second." I can only nod as my anxiety for the dreaded night at the casino increases tenfold. "Do you have any plans for tonight?" I ask, changing the subject. Thankfully, Adela catches the bait and shrugs, "Honestly, I think the whole staying up until midnight drinking and snogging random-ass strangers is overrated. I mean, it's just a year finished–time's supposed to move forward. To me, it's always been a 'congrats, you made it alive in the streets for a whole three hundred and sixty five days–now try to do another three hundred sixty five more.'" I sigh and lean back in my desk chair, "I completely get it. Lately for me it's been a 'congrats you made it alive without your twin brother for three hundred and sixty five days–now keep living as if there isn't a hole ripped out of your chest for another three hundred plus more.' But I know I'll probably watch a few minutes of the ball drop on TV with Mom and Dad."

"We're such killjoys aren't we?"

"No, we're just real, living, breathing human beings."

*****

As discussed with Adela, the transition into the new year was just as normal of a night–with only a TV special and the change of the year on my phone to distinguish it from the rest. But slipping into a burgundy lace dress over the pistol strapped to my upper inner thigh and sliding on four inch heels, however, will go down as a transition that'll be anything but normal. After putting in eye contacts, lightly applying some mascara and eyeliner, I stare at myself horrified of what happened to the ratty pajama clad homebody I know and love so much. I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable in the tight dress and impractical shoes and I haven't even left the safety of my bedroom yet. Fortunately, I don't have to stew in my own nervous thoughts for long. At midnight, as if they walked straight out of a fashion show runway, the girls materialize into the room completely owning their outfits. Even Mila, who shares my qualms about the trip, seems to quickly adapt and make do with the predicament.

"Oh, Elin! You look positively radiant!" Emy gushes as soon as her emerald eyes lay upon me. I look down embarrassed at my heels. "Look in the mirror for the true definition of radiance," I mutter so lowly that no one hears. Adela glances at me concerned as if she can detect my increasing distress and panic, but is quickly distracted by an overeager Cordelia. Not wishing to waste time, we all take inventory to make sure we each have the IDs and guns in our wristlets and thigh straps before taking off into the glittering, glitzy night.