Thirty minutes later, I find Acerola at the entrance to one of the more high-end department stores in the mall. She waves eagerly at me as I approach.

"Heyyy, Moon! You ready to go dress shopping?" Acerola asks.

"No," I groan.

Acerola laughs. "Hey, we can work with that. I guarantee you'll turn that frown upside down as soon as you take a look at some of our options!"

Seeing the dresses does not turn my frown upside down like Acerola predicts. If anything, it just deepens it. "I'm supposed to be able to wear one of these dresses?" I say, plucking a dress off a rack higher than my head and holding it up to my shoulders. Three or four inches of fabric puddle on my feet. "They're way too long!"

"They're supposed to be that long," Acerola assures me, taking the dress out of my hands and putting it back on the rack. "Once you've got your heels on, you'll gain a few inches, and you don't want to show too much ankle!"

I blink, trying to ignore the panic that's steadily gnawing away at my gut. "I-I have to wear heels to prom?"

"Of course, silly," Acerola says cheerfully. "We'll take care of that once we get the dress. You want to wear heels that match it, after all."

"Oh," I say faintly. "We have to buy heels today, too?"

Acerola seems to hear the distress in my voice, because she glances at me, purses her lips, and changes the subject. "Let's start narrowing down our dress options. What colors do you like in a dress?"

"Darker colors, I guess?" I say with a shrug. "Blue, purple, gray, green…those are the main ones."

"Right! Let's get on it, then!" Acerola exclaims, and she plunges into the dress racks.

As we browse through the dresses, I quickly realize that finding a dress is going to be harder than I thought. While there may be plenty of options available in the colors I like, I have so many problems with most of them that it's hard to pick out a dress that I could actually see myself wearing. This dress looks nice at first, but then I realize it has random holes in the torso. This dress is pretty, but the fabric feels like it will be really scratchy when I put it on. This dress is the right color, but the pattern is just ugly…and so on, and so on.

"So," Acerola asks eventually, while the two of us are looking at dresses on the same rack. "You never told me…who is the lucky guy that you're going to prom with?"

"Oh, right," I say. "I'm going with Sun."

The dress Acerola's holding falls to the ground. I notice that her eyes are almost comically wide for a fraction of a second before she scrambles to pick up the dress she dropped. When she stands back up, she's smiling again, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Whoops, clumsy me," she giggles. "Congratulations, Moon! I'm sure you'll have a great time."

We get back to looking for dresses, but I can't help but notice that Acerola is recommending dresses for me to try on less frequently than before. Then again, it could just be that we're starting to exhaust their supply of options, because I'm not finding dresses that I haven't already looked at as often either. Eventually, Acerola and I meet up again, and I have four potential dresses in my arms.

"So, those are the ones you like?" Acerola asks. Her voice sounds a little strained. "Let's go into the dressing room and try them on, then."

Just as we get settled into a room, however, Acerola's phone rings. She glances at it, and her lip curls up when she reads the caller ID. "I…should probably take this," she says with a sigh. "Do you mind trying on the dresses without me?"

I shake my head, and Acerola slips outside to take her call. I try on the first dress; it's blue satin, with spirals made of blue sequins on the skirt and long sleeves that come to a V on the back of my hands. However, after putting it on and struggling to pull the zipper all the way up on my own, I come to the realization that it's uncomfortably tight around my arms. It would drive me crazy wearing this for a whole night.

I take off that dress and try on the next one. It's a fairly plain deep purple gown that I picked up just because I love the color a lot. The only problem with it is that I couldn't find it in my size – I picked up one that's a size too small and one that's two sizes too big, just in case it runs small or large or something. Unfortunately, both dresses fit about as well as I expected them to: that is to say, they fit poorly.

Finally, I try on the last dress. This one is sleeveless with a cream-colored torso and a gray skirt, which is covered in flowing ruffles and glitter. When I put it on, I'm almost surprised to realize that it fits really comfortably, and it looks nice when I check it out in the mirror.

A knock on my door interrupts my contemplation of the dress. "Heyyy, Moon! Mind if I come in?"

"Go ahead," I say.

Acerola opens the door, a chipper smile on her face. When she sees me, though, it quickly fades into awe. "Oh. My. Gosh. You look gorgeous!" she exclaims. "Do a twirl for me?" I spin around obediently, the skirt of the dress flowing in my wake. "Beautiful! Oh, please tell me you like that dress. It's perfect!"

"I love it," I tell her.

Acerola squeals with glee. "Oh, perfect! Now, we just need to pick out a wrap or shawl to cover your shoulders in case you get cold…oh, and pick out some heels to match. I'm thinking gray is a good color, don't you think?"

"Uh, I have a pair of black heels already, can I wear those?"

"Absolutely not!" Acerola declares vehemently.

"But that's just another expense on top of everything else!" I protest. I don't even dare look at the price tag for the dress I picked out – I'm almost 100% certain that it's in the triple digits, and I don't want to go to a prom in a dress that I don't really like just because it's cheaper. "I have perfectly functional heels already…"

"Perfectly functional heels that don't go with the dress you picked out," Acerola retorts. "C'mon, Moon, your parents are doctors–"

"Scientists," I correct.

"–regardless, the point is, they can afford to splurge a little on your first prom." Acerola gives me a pleading look that I don't dare argue with.

"Fine, fine, we can buy heels too," I mutter.

Acerola beams. "I can take care of makeup for you, so you don't need to worry about that. Ooh, and I know just who to ask to do your hair! I promise, you're gonna look fabulous for this prom!"

"Thank you, Acerola. But you're already doing so much for me…I can't ask you to–"

"You're not asking, I'm offering," she interrupts me. "If you want to take care of something yourself, why don't you handle ordering and picking up the boutonniere?"

"I can do that," I say. "Uh, what's a boutonniere again?"


Acerola: heyyy hap! u got anything going on next friday? :3

Hapu: I have horseback riding lessons until 3, so I am regrettably not available for lunch. Perhaps another day?

A: nah that's perfect! u remember moon right?

H: The black-haired girl from the year between us? She tutored you in Chemistry last year, as I recall?

A: that's the one! shes going to prom next week and she needs someone to do her hair, u mind doing it for her?

H: What kind of style would she like? As I recall, her hair is a bit too short for an updo or braids.

A: shes been growing it out! its like shoulder length now and she doesn't really care about style, she just wants something nice

H: I believe I can come up with something that will not take too long and look nice, too.

A: awesome! my place at 5, i'm doing her makeup :3