Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011.

Chapter Seventeen: Theories On Footwear

"Karma karma karma karma karma chameeeeeeeleooooon!"

Sarah poked her head out of her bedroom door. Her best friend was laying on the couch upside down, feet tapping on the wall and head hanging unseen below the table. She held a pillow in her hands and was dancing it across her knees while singing along to a CD at the top of her lungs. "Aggie? What are you doing?" she asked with a giggle.

Agnes shrugged, nearly causing herself to slide off the couch. "Aah!" She hooked her heels on the back of the couch and somehow dragged herself further up. After much scooting, she ended up lying on her back. She turned her head to look at Sarah across the room. "Well, I just wanted to make sure I was in a good position to see you."

"See me? Through an oak coffee table? It is, I grant you, excessively chipped and beat up, but that doesn't make it transparent. What, did you gain Superman powers overnight or something?"

"Ok, so I couldn't see all of you. But I could see your feet."

"My feet."

"Yes."

"And this is important because...?"

"Because you are supposed to ask me which shoes you should wear, and what better angle to see them at than near the ground?"

Sitting at her desk, Sarah re-laced her shoes with the frog laces she received from her family. "But if you could not see the rest of me, how would you know which shoes would have been better?"

Reaching a hand out, Agnes grabbed a handful of Skittles from the bowl on the table. She looked at the variety in her hand and contemplated it briefly before dropping them in her mouth one by one. "Well," she said around the fruity mix that was getting stuck in her teeth, "you'd just have to tell me which clothes, exactly, you are wearing. Your Skittles are mildly stale, by the way."

"Uh huh. But how would you get the complete visual effect of said clothes without actually seeing the whole outfit put together?"

"Considering how long I have known you, and how frequently that we are in each other's closets, I would think that a simple description would suffice."

"And if I should choose to wear something that is not in either my closet or your closet? Something borrowed or, perhaps, brand new?"

"The fa - Man, I hate it when my teeth get stuck together. The fact still remains that you do possess some skill at painting a scene with words. Though my imagination is not nearly as over-active as yours, I do have some minor ability to visualize what I cannot see."

"Not the over-active imagination thing again," Sarah laughed.

"Yes. And I don't know why you always get so indignant when I tell you that. It isn't like it is anything new." Agnes sat up to grab another handful of Skittles and watched as Sarah put on her shoes. "You aren't even going to ask me, are you?"

"They're stale and stick her teeth together, but does she stop eating them? No. Anyway, ask you what?"

Agnes gave the wall a flat look. "Ask me what, she says. Williams, are you going out on a date?"

"Um, yes..."

"And isn't this date the second with your mysterious, secretly admiring, man of your dreams?"

Immediately, Sarah blushed. "Well..."

Agnes snorted, ignoring her friend's discomfort at her candid statement, and plowed on. "The correct answer is 'yes', but the judges will accept 'well' considering the circumstances. That being the case, do you mean to tell me that you are going to go out without asking me, your best friend, which shoes you should wear?"

Sarah looked down at her feet. "Is something wrong with these ones?"

"No, but -"

"But what? They're the ones I always wear with this outfit."

"Actually, they're the ones you always wear except for special occasions."

"They are not!"

Agnes sighed. "Ok, ok. They're the ones you have four identical, with the exception of color, pairs of that you wear on an everyday basis."

"Right."

"Williams, Williams, Williams." Agnes had adopted the patient, patronizing tone one only gets away with using on one's best friend or a new puppy. "Don't you think this date of yours deserves special occasion shoes?"

In return, Sarah gave Agnes a look that told her just how ridiculous she thought that statement was. "No."

"No?"

"That's right, no. It isn't as though we're going to the opera or hiking or anything. We're just going for a picnic."

There she goes with that 'just' business again. "Just because it is a more mundane event does not make it any less special. You should wear your funky sandals instead of your sneakers."

Sarah was fairly sure she was going to end up giving in to Agnes' logic and sense of fashion, but was rather curious as to what was the reasoning behind this shoe thing. "Why?"

"Because it is a sunny day and you have cute toes."

"Pardon?"

"You have cute toes. You should show them off when you get the chance."

Suddenly dreading the answer, Sarah asked again, "Why?"

"In case he has a thing for, you know, toes."

Sarah stared blankly into Agnes' innocent expression. There was silence for a long minute before the two of them burst out laughing. Shaking her head and rising to get her other pair of shoes, Sarah glanced at the window just as an owl landed on the tree outside. She barely restrained herself from yelping in surprise. I'm going to have to explain to him how to use the courtesy phone outside the dorms to let me know he is here, she thought. Going back into her bedroom, she said, "All right, Aggie, point acknowledged. I'll wear the sandals. But then I'm off so you'll have to scram."

"Scram? Scram? Oh, that's harsh," Agnes said. She then began singing along to the chorus of the song that was currently playing. "Do you really want to hurt meee?"

Giggling once again, Sarah came back in the room. "Why are we listening to this again?"

"Mood music."

"Right. And the mood it is supposed to be building is...?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something. So where are you two meeting?"

"On the front steps."

"He's not coming up, eh?" Sarah shook her head. "Smart move. Too many people would poke their head's out their doors to catch a glimpse of him. When are you meeting?"

"In a few minutes or so."

"Not at a set time?"

"Yes and no. He said he'd get here at around noon, give or take a few."

"Oh. So how do you know you have to go meet him already if he hasn't come up yet?"

Sarah looked out the window at a once again empty tree. "Just a feeling I have, I guess."

"Hm." Grabbing a final handful of Skittles, Agnes got up from the couch and stretched. "I won't keep you, then, I guess. How irate will it make you if I decide to tag along?"

"Tag along?"

"Just to the front door. I think I need a bit of fresh air."

"You mean you want to meet him."

"Well, if he happens to be there while I'm still around, sure."

"You mean you'll wait until he gets there." Agnes grinned at Sarah's accusation. Sarah sighed. "Not yet, Aggie, ok? I'm still trying to get used to this whole idea of seeing him. Knowing Jareth will face the Best Friend Interrogation is not something I want to think about yet."

"Crikey, Williams. I don't intend to interrogate him today. I just want to find out what he looks like! You are incredibly vague with your descriptions of him." The nervous, pleading look in Sarah's eyes stopped Agnes from teasing her further. "But ok, I'll be patient for now." Probably better this way, really. When I finally do get to meet him I'll know for sure that she's actually taking this seriously and not deluding herself that they're 'just' seeing where things go.

Sarah gave Agnes a grateful smile. "Thanks, Aggie."

"Yeah, yeah. Now scram yourself." She flicked her hands in the direction of the door. "I'll lock your door for you. Gotta get my tunes out of your stereo, anyway. And there are so many buttons on the thing that it'll probably take me ages." Laughing yet again, Sarah went on her way.