"Hey girl!" Alya slid into the seat next to her friend, startling her out of her daze.

"Hey Alya, what's up?" Marinette asked, flipping her sketch book closed and looking up.

"So you know how I'm a bridesmaid at my cousin's wedding in a couple of weeks? Well, she said I could bring a few friends if I wanted, so do you want to come? I'm asking Nino and Adrien, too."

"Adrien?!" Marinette squeaked, picturing the perfect face of the model that sat in front of her.

"Yes, Adrien! Pull it together, Marinette, it'll be fine, I promise."

"Okay…". The dark-haired girl shook her head and sat up in the desk, putting her hands dramatically on her hips. "Yes, I can do this!"

"Good, cause here he comes!"

"WHAT?!" Marinette flailed, slipping off the bench and onto the floor.

"Hey Alya, hey…Marinette?"

Marinette slowly peered up from behind the desk, coming face-to-face with the blond in question.

"Oh, hey Adrien! I was just…picking up my pencil! Because I…dropped it!" Marinette squeaked, holding up a pen.

"Anyway…," Alya said a beat later, looking away from her bright-red friend and trying not to laugh. "You guys remember my cousin's wedding? Do you want to come? I need someone to hang out with all night that isn't related to me."

"I'm in!" Nino said, high fiving Alya over the desk. "Adrien?"

"Sure! I'll ask my dad when I get home."

"Great! Marinette?" Marinette, having regained her seat, started, then nodded vaguely. As Madam Bustier started talking, Alya leaned over to whisper in Marinette's ear. "You know what this means – dress shopping! We'll go this Saturday!"

"I think shopping sounds like a wonderful idea, honey!"

"I don't know Mom. I'm not much of a dress person. Could you grab the mayo please?"

"Oh, c'mon, it'll be fun!" Ms. Cheng said, handing her the white container. Marinette finished making her sandwich and sat down at the table with her dad while she ate it.

"Your mother's right, you know. You're a teenage girl! Go shopping, throw a party, eat a cookie!"

"But what do cookies have to do with-" Her father winked, and handed her two of the chocolate chip cookies he had swiped from the jar on the counter. Smiling, Marinette slid one into her bag, and broke the other one into pieces, which she ate between bites of sandwich. As she finished her lunch, her phone buzzed, and Alya's picture popped up on the screen.

"She must be downstairs," Marinette said, putting her plate in the sink and kissing her parents. Ms. Cheng tucked some money into her daughter's pocket, and waved as she ran out the door.

"She'll be fine," assured Mr. Dupain, putting his arm around his wife's shoulders. She patted his hand and smiled, then turned to the sink to start the dishes.

"Ahh, to be young again."

"What about this one?"

Marinette just raised her eyebrows, staring at the hanger in Alya's hand.

"That would be great!…if I was being crowned queen," she said, giving her best royal wave.

"Okay, okay, no hoopskirt," Alya relented, shoving the gold-and-cream dress back onto the rack. "What do you want?"

Marinette smiled as she combed through the next rack. "A fairy godmother would be nice! And maybe some colored pencils, and a new sketch pad!"

Alya laughed and shoved her shoulder. "You are absolutely impossible, Marinette."

They kept looking, and Marinette soon felt like she had tried on everything in the store. Yellow dresses, pink dresses, dresses that changed colors as you spun – you name it, Marinette wore it.

"I don't know, Alya. Maybe I should just wear pants or something," Marinette sighed, looking down at their latest find (blue with silver thread).

"Why not red?" asked the brunette, noting a lack of the color in their ever-growing pile of rejects.

Marinette shook her head. "No red! It…looks bad with blue hair." More like it looks bad without black spots. I can't wear red – it's too similar!

"Hmmmm," Alya breathed, tapping her fingers on her leg. "Give me two minutes!" She unlatched the door of the changing room and disappeared back into the endless racks. Marinette snorted (good luck to her!) and dropped onto the small bench. After a while – which felt like forever to Marinette but was probably only about three minutes – Alya charged back in, dress in hand. She dropped it into Marinette's lap, then spun out again to let her change. Marinette looked down at the soft black fabric in her hands. Standing up and unfolding it, she discovered that it was short, with the hem ending at her knees, and that it had thick, tank top-like straps. She slipped it on over her head, then unlocked the door to let Alya back in.

"Girl! That looks amazing on you!"

"It does?" Marinette turned toward the mirror, the dress's skirt moving like water around her. The fabric fit her perfectly, and thin, emerald green thread wrapped its way around the top of the dress, tapering off into the skirt. Definitely different than usual…but not bad!

"Do you really think so?" She asked, spinning in her mismatched socks. The dress flared out, revealing miniscule sparkles that made her glitter in the light. Marinette stopped to look at it again, then turned to her very enthusiastic friend.

"Sold!"

Alya squealed, grabbing her arm and jumping up and down before rushing out, shouting behind her (much to the annoyance of the nearby salesperson),

"Now we just have to find you shoes!"