"Ouch!"

"Sorry," Biana said, still pulling painfully on my hair. She had claimed that I needed lots of help in the fashion department, so she was definitely "helping" me get ready (more like treating me like a doll and doing everything for me).

"I don't understand why we have to dress up just to celebrate the New Year, anyway," I said, trying to focus on something other than my screaming scalp.

Biana huffed, yanking extra hard, and replied, "I don't understand why you dread putting on the occasional dress and, for once, trying to look nice."

"Maybe I wouldn't, if it didn't always require this much pain!" I shot back.

"Oh, Sophie, Sophie, Sophie, you have much to learn," Biana said, clicking her tongue.

I rolled my eyes.

"Lesson number one: Looking beautiful does not feel beautiful."

"No kidding," I said, grimacing as I felt some bobby pins scrape my skin. "Just finish my hair, okay?"

After a few tugs and an occasional muttered "sorry," Biana announced, "All done!"

I craned my neck to look back at her. "Really? Took you long enough!"

"I think I am. Let's see. Hair, dress, shoes…" she trailed off, counting them on her fingers. "I think you're finally presentable!"

I made a face at her and stood up, wobbling on my heels. "Pretty please, can I wear flats or something? I'm already going to end up tripping over the hem of my dress, I don't need to worry about rolling an ankle, too."

"I don't know." Biana wrinkled her perfect nose while going through her shoe closet. "I guess you could look passable in these." She held out a pair of beautiful, glass-like flats that sparkled like, well, sparkles.

"Okay, first off, I'll break them. Next, isn't that sort of cliche? I mean, it's totally Cinderella! Last, those look like medieval torture devices for feet."

"Well, you seem to have forgotten that you are in the Elven world now, Sophie Foster," Biana said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Meaning, no, you will not break them. They are unbreakable! I have no idea what your second reason was, but the slippers are perfectly comfortable."

I groaned, almost positive that the shoes would end up cutting my feet at the end of the night. Well, better than heels, I thought as I slipped them on.

"Comfy, no?" Biana asked, smiling. I nodded grudgingly. As soon as I had put them on, I felt like I was walking on clouds.

"Now am I allowed to look in the mirror?" I asked. Biana, being the girly-girl she is, absolutely refused to let me see myself until she was done. "The finished project," she had said, "is much more enjoyable and surprising if you don't see the process."

"Oh," I said, not quite really catching why I couldn't have just looked at myself while I was being redone. I mean, isn't it a right or something about being able to look in a mirror whenever you want? Well, maybe not, but it should be.

"Go ahead," Biana said, stepping to the side. I walked up to the mirror and gasped. You know those T.V. shows where they totally change a person? I felt like that.

Biana had chosen a simple ruby gown that reached my toes and complimented my brown eyes. It had an open back that dipped to the midway point of my spine with thin straps that curled over my shoulders and looped around my neck, creating a delicate halter. It pronounced curves I didn't even know I had and made me look much older than 16. My long hair was swept into a beautiful French braid. Who whudda thunk that so much pain could result in this!

"Biana, people are gonna be like, 'Who's that girl in the red dress? And where's Sophie?'" I said, twirling to get the full effect. "Plus, when I go back to Foxfire on Monday, everybody's going to recognize me and say, 'what happened to you?'"

"Pff, no," Biana said, waving her hand at me. "You're naturally beautiful, you just don't try and show it. That's why most of the boys at Foxfire are head-over-heels for you."

"I dunno," I muttered, turning to face the fashionista next to me. "You know, you're not so bad-looking yourself." I waggled my eyebrows, making Biana giggle.

"I guess not." She turned to examine herself in the mirror before giving her reflection a frown "I just feel like a certain someone just doesn't notice, if you know what I mean."

"Ooh," I said, stroking my imaginary beard and putting on a "confused" face, even though I was pretty sure I knew who the boy was. I stopped abruptly, gasped, and whirled to face Biana. "Is it (cue dramatic pause) Keefe?"

"NO," she said, rolling her eyes. "I got over him years ago. You can have him."

For some reason, that comment made me blush. "I don't want him!"

"Oh, really?" Now it was Biana questioning me about my love life.

"Oh, no, no, missy, we are not going down that road. We are going to sit down and talk about your little comment," I said sassily. I whirled around and roughly plopped her down on the bed.

"Hey!" Biana protested, swiping my hands away. "You're going to mess up my hair!"

"Well, you're probably going to mess up my social life by the makeover you just gave me, so I don't care."

"Harsh," she pouted.

"Soooooo, who is this 'some -"

"GIRLS!" Della's voice drifted up the stairs, interrupting my interrogation. "Time to go!"

Biana flounced by me, grinning, and I scowled at her. "You may be off the hook for now, but I will not forget about this!" Grumbling, I followed her, momentarily forgetting that I had a long dress on, and tripped. Luckily, I caught myself before I majorly face-planted. Unluckily, I caught myself on Fitz's' arm.

"Woah, there," Biana's older brother said, reaching out to steady me. I swiped his hands away, furious at my clumsiness. Part of my brain recognized how handsome Fitz looked in his dress clothes, but only a little sliver. I used to have a huge crush on him, but now he's more like an older brother. This made it sort of weird when I realized he was staring at me. Yep, I was so kicking Biana's butt for convincing me to let her redo my person.

I sighed. "Your sister decided to give me a makeover and chose one of the longest dresses I've ever worn. I told her, being a klutz and all, I would trip over it, but she refused to let me change."

Fitz snapped out of his thoughts, cast me a lopsided grin and said, "Um, yeah. That's Biana for you."

"Lucky for me, she didn't force me to wear pumps, or else I would probably end up breaking my face and my ankles."

Fitz laughed and we made our way down the stairs, talking about school and next year. Since Fitz was in his second-to-last year at Foxfire, he had to decide what to do the rest of his life (which is insanely long… I'm still getting used to the whole "immortal" thing).

"Gosh, what took you so long?" Biana asked, hands on her hips, when we reached the Leapmaster.

"Well," I said, dragging out the "e" sound, "I tripped on my dress hem, which, thanks to somebody, is much too long." I looked pointedly at Biana, who appeared unconcerned.

"Oh, Sophie, you look marvelous!"

I turned around to find Fitz' and Biana's mom, who pulled me into a hug. I smiled.

"Hi, Della."

"Come on, Mom! We're probably going to be late," Biana complained, tugging on Della's beautiful midnight-blue dress.

"Hey," I said, just realizing something. "Where's Alden?"

"Oh, he's going to meet us there. He said he's off dealing with some work-related thing," Della replied, ignoring Biana's pleas.

"Really, we should get going," Fitz said, interrupting my conversation with his mom.

"Where even is this party, anyway?" I asked, stepping onto the Leapmaster platform.

"Foxfire, you dummy!" Biana said, calling down the crystal.

I crossed my arms, and we were whisked away.