Emily looked at herself in the mirror. Given the circumstances; poor lighting, minimal make up, and a forced prom gown (which just so happened to be her style..whoever Charles was really did have good taste..or maybe years of stalking the girls helped him pick out a gown) she didn't think she looked that bad. Her mind drifted to the one person who would always tell her the truth on how she looked: Alison. Ali was always brutally honest with the girls. One time in middle school the girls went shopping to pick out an outfit for one of Noel Khan's parties, and Emily picked out a flannel shirt (no surprise there) and Alison almost crucified her. "Really Emily? Flannel? It's June! We're not going to a farm!"
Emily could practically hear Alison's voice yelling her name. She could visualize the way her name gently slid off Alison's warm, pink lips and out into the cool open air. Anytime Alison said Emily's name it always sounded just a bit different than they way she said the other girls. It always sounded honeyed, with just a twinge of desire.
For a quick moment Emily truly believed she had heard her name being called. But any questions she had about it faded when her door suddenly opened. "Please exit your rooms." Emily stood up and walked to her doorframe, meeting her friends. She wasn't a fan of school dances, but even in her worst nightmares, Emily never envisioned a prom this horrible. Her friends greeted her with the same uncertainty. They were all on edge. There was no telling how this plan was going to go. Just when they thought they were one step ahead of A they ended up really being three steps behind him.
They locked arms and somberly walked towards the decorated warehouse where their prom was going to be held. She imagined most girls probably worried about what they would be served for dinner rather than wondering if they would be killed on their prom night, but then again Emily and her friends weren't like most girls.
The playlist they examined earlier was already blasting through the speakers. Music from their middle school years flooded the room. Everyone was here, except Alison (Mona). Emily still refused to call Mona by Ali's name. Mannequins dressed in suits and gowns stood freakishly still, eerily staring back at them through masquerade masks. The girls made their way down the steps, monitoring their every move and making sure none of the mannequins blinked. Their plan wouldn't work if Mona wasn't here. What was taking her so long? As if Spencer read her mind, she answered her question with a snark comment. "Typical Ali, always waiting to make a grand entrance." Emily looked up to see Mona in a beautiful dress only Alison could pull off, standing gracefully at the top of the stairs. It was like eating your favorite name brand cereal everyday, only to wake up one morning to find the generic off-brand in your cabinet. Regardless, now that she was here, it was go time. They had one shot to get this right, or..well Emily didn't want to think about the what if.