On Sturdy Legs

Minus Any Lies

"Ariadne Gallen?"

I opened the door when it rang to be greeted with a smirk, the kind I recognized from my own face. Mia Stone was the same person I had seen at various points but had never really spoken to. Up close and for our shopping trip, she had done her hair up in a ballerina bun with a few stray strands of bangs left down; her makeup with perfect with winged eyeliner and red lips. I would have never imagined her to be the same girl who gave that statement. She wore a sundress with an array of red roses and straps that were tied at the base of her neck, wedge pumps with flowers on the toe and bandaids beneath the straps, toe nails that matched her dress, and in her hand she held a clutch purse that I suspected was designer.

I shot a look at Izzy as I stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind me. "So, where are we going?" I asked first.

It was probably an easier question to start out with than demanding to know why she lied under oath. She lied under oath--I knew she did. I knew James was in the same boat--I just didn't know why.

Mia slid into the driver's seat of her red bug car while I took the passenger side and buckled up. "I know a place. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you!" She glanced at my tennis shoes, "correct me if I'm wrong but you have been doing turns on bare feet all this time, haven't you?"

"Is that a problem?" I asked as Mia pulled away with a speed that was slightly too fast for a neighborhood. This speed tripled when we hit a large road. I wondered if Officer Jamison turned a blind eye to her clear speeding. That was probably a yes because she was driving like a maniac.

"Yes, Ari," she sighed tragically. "It is a big problem. Annie tells me that you need a white dress and something camouflage. Then," she turned to look sideways at me, "we can talk."

This place was apparently just for dance, because apparently clothing was that important in dancing. Apparently Mia came here a lot. She waved to the cashier upon entering and led me to the designated area for foot attire. For an activity that did not require special shoes or shoes at all, this store had a lot of different shoes. There were these ballet shoes that looked like death, softer shoes that didn't look like shoes at all but rather socks, hard shoes that provided no arch support, and these things that were essentially rip offs because they only covered the balls of a foot. It was these that Mia instantly turned her attention to.

"Shoe size?" She asked quickly as if that even mattered when the said 'shoes' were clearly not going to be doing their job of actually protecting one's feet.

"Nine and a half," I answered anyway. Since she was an expert at this, I figured that it would be smart not to question her judgement. Mia selected a package of the not shoes and handed them to me.

"These are a good start, at least for your lyrical. I know you'll need combat boots for your solo and I think Annie is ordering the group costumes herself," Mia led me to the costume part of the store. More specifically, the part of the store that made me want to puke, especially considering that people apparently wore these outfits, willingly. "Off!"

"Off?" I repeated.

"Off!" Mia turned to face me with that smirk on her face. "As in wipe that stupid look off your face because no one can help you find a costume better than me." She seized a random top that looked to be close to my size. "Zander Walters and James Fisher might not scare you, but I certainly can. You go get your ass into that dressing room and start undressing. This is not a debate."

I had every intention of listening to her even if she hadn't pointed out that clear fact. I would have gotten into that dressing room, just slightly more eventually. I only paused for a second with my own smirk since I was not going to be outdone by her.