"Nothing's wrong," Allison said as she and Lydia stepped onto the escalator. "I just, ugh, have a lot on my mind."
"You could smile at least. Ever hear the saying 'Never frown. Someone could be falling in love with your smile'." Lydia countered perkily.
Her tone dropped a little when Allison sighed. "Smile, Allison, I'm buying you a dress."
"I have to admit, as far as apologies go, that's more than I expected."
"Excellent." Lydia said, looking away.
"But not as much as I'm gonna ask." A teasing smile played on Allison's lips.
"What?" Lydia turned back to Allison, nervous again. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're going to cancel on whatever dumb, roided up jock you said yes to and you're going to go with somebody else."
Lydia frowned. "Who?"
"I haven't decided yet." Allison gestured to the wide store in front of them as they stepped off the escalator.
"Wait a minute," Lydia held up her finger as she scanned the floor, hoping Allison wasn't thinking what she thinks she's thinking, "Is that what this whole trip is about? I thought we were shopping for a dress."
"We are." Allison beamed. "We just have to shop for a date first."
"You want me to pick up some random stranger at a Macy's store?" Lydia pouted.
"Aw, don't frown, Lydia. Someone could be falling in love with your smile."
"This is hopeless." Lydia threw up her hands after what felt like hours of roaming but was really only about half of one. Pointing out various men in the store, she declared "Too young. Too old. Too...hideously unattractive. Too poor, probably can't even afford a ticket, let alone a suit."
Allison frowned at the last one. "How do you know that?"
"Please, Allison, I know fashion and every item part of that guy's outfit is from some cheap knock-off brand. Plus he's not buying anything, he's just window shopping, soaking in the glamour he could never afford."
"Well what about that one?" Allison pointed to a slouched over guy in the corner.
Lydia tilted her head and did a quick assessment. Blue-green eyes, curls of light brown hair, it looked almost dark blonde. Just tall enough to be the same height as her in heels, relatively fashionable and seemed a little jumpy, like he wasn't really sure what he was doing here. He was cute in a loser kind of way. He seemed vaguely familiar but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"He'll do." Lydia said simply and marched her way over to him. The click clack of her heels echoed slightly, enough to attract the attention of the boy in question. He looked up, startled, then recognizing her face, he seemed to freeze as if a deer caught in headlights.
Lydia thought nothing of it. She usually had that effect on boys. "You," She pointed her finger at his chest, not accusingly but slightly flirtatiously, "are going to be my date to the winter formal at Beacon Hills High School." She said, her tone posing it as a statement, not a question.
"I...I am?" He stammered, staring dumbfounded at her perfectly manicured finger touching him.
"Yes," Lydia answered in a clipped voice. "I assume you know your way there? You'll pick me up at six so we can be fashionably late. I like to make an entrance."
"I know where it is," He seemed to have gained a quiet confidence about him now that he's had time to adjust to the idea of Lydia Martin asking him out. Still, he was looking at the floor when he said, "I go there."
"Excellent." Lydia started to turn around when he quickly spilled out, "But I don't have a car."
Lydia turned back to face him, rolling her eyes, and sighed, "I like my dates with a nice ride."
"I only have a bike..." He mumbled "...with a chain..." He looked up at her as if that had some kind of significance.
"He can borrow mine."
The boy seemed to jump at the sound of another voice entering the conversation, a man who seemed to pop from just around the corner.
"I'm his father." The older man extended his hand for Lydia to shake. "And I'll be happy to lend him my car if it means he can get a date with a beautiful girl...for the first and probably the only time in his life."
"Problem solved." She beamed. "You know where I live, right?" She asked and then without waiting for an answer, she went on. "Of course you do. Everybody does. It's where parties of the year are thrown."
Spinning around, she began to strut away when she heard the boy timidly call out, "Aren't you going to ask me my name?"
"Mm, no." She replied without missing a beat, let alone turning around.
"It's Isaac. Isaac Lahey."
Lydia turned around to face him. His father had an expression on his face like he found the entire situation utterly amusing.
"Well, Isaac, Isaac Lahey," Lydia parroted in a clipped tone. "I didn't ask."