AN: Eep. So sorry guys, but this is another fillerish chapter. : ( Sorryyy. We promise promise promise the next chapter will be the dance, kay? Ooh, also sorry about the shortiness of this chapter. Just wanted to have them getting ready for it and all. Now, before I give too much away, here's chapter six. Enjoy.

-

Claire Lyons slid on her dark blue baby doll dress as she waited for her best friend to come out of her bathroom. She spun around in front of the full length mirror, biting her lip at her reflection. She rolled her shoulders back, then went back to lounging on the bed. A few minutes passed, and Kristen had not yet come out of the bathroom. Claire jumped up from the bed and began to knock on the white, painted wooden door.

"Kristen, you've been in there for a while now! It's time to come out," she called, hoping that her friend would be able to hear through the door.

"No, I don't want to come out," Kristen huffed.

"Come on, I need someone to help me with my make-up," Claire vigorously shook the doorknob, as if that would do anything. Claire could do make-up for regular day-to-day things, but when it came to the glittery and sparkly junk for formal occasions she needed help.

"Get Todd to help you," she spat in response. Kristen, realizing what she had just said, broke out into a fit of laughter. "At least if he does it, it will look better than if you did it."

"Hey," she stopped, and then hopped up and knocked the small, bronze key from the top of the door frame. "You leave me no choice. I'm coming in," Claire shoved the key inside the tiny hole, turned the old door knob, and barged in.

"Be honest, how do I look?" Kristen questioned, obviously afraid of the response.

She was wearing a soft pink halter dress that hugged her soccer-toned curves perfectly. The light, satiny material just brushed her knees and made her legs look infinitely longer than usual. Her dirty-blonde shoulder length hair had been straightened, and the faintest traces of makeup on her face made her aqua eyes pop and thin lips were glossed to perfection.

"You look great, Kris," a genuine smile covered Claire's face.

"Really, you think so?" Kristen frowned at her appearance in the mirror above the porcelain sink.

"I know so," she smirked when Kristen's face turned a light shade of pink.

"Aw, thanks. You look incredible Claire, you really do," Claire nodded her head in thanks and turned around. Her white blonde curls smacking against her face as she did so.

"Kris, come on. We need to get ready," Kristen walked over to the wooden vanity, pushed Claire down in a chair, and began applying various make-up products to her face.

"God Claire quit moving. You're going to make me screw up, oh shoot," Kristen quickly covered a hand over her mouth, mascara wand still present. Her eyes were bulging with a mixture of shock and or the fear of what Claire would do to her when she saw.

"Kristen, what'd you do?" Claire warily shifted her eyes to meet Kristen's who bit her lip in response. Claire altered her gaze so that she was peering into the small, compact mirror.

She could hardly recognize herself. Her silky, white blonde curls were in half-up do, held back with a glittery clip. Her icy blue eyes had been outlined with eyeliner, so it now resembled Disney princesses- huge; and her lips had been covered in a pale, shimmery gloss.

"What? It looks fine," she appeared puzzled.

"Duh! Of course it looks great. I did it, and it's on you," Kristen grinned, proud at her joke. Let's just say that Kristen wasn't exactly the funniest person around, so this 'joke' was one of the better ones. Seriously. After Claire's make-up was finished, Kristen did a last minute check on her hair and they ran downstairs. The two slid on their somewhat different shoes. Claire covered her feet with silver sequined flats while Kristen sported pale gold, three-inch heels.

The girls twisted the knob on the door that lead to the four car garage. Scanning at each of the cars, they decided to pile inside the small, silver Volvo. Taking the convertible was a serious no-no, they were not going to screw up their hair. The hair that they washed, blow dried, curled, and styled to perfection, not a chance. Even though in every movie that contains a dance; the hot guy drives his date in his convertible, and her hair never gets screwed up.

They remained relatively quiet throughout the car ride. Each mind was racing with who they thought their date would be, or who they didn't want their date to be. The fifteen minute drive seemed exceptionally short today when they drove in front of the school. Eyeing for a parking spot, Claire maneuvered the car around the lot. Eventually she found one, and the two of them slowly shuffled out of the car. As they neared the building, the loud pumping music could easily be heard.

Pushing open the heavy doors, they encountered bunches of students waiting in line to receive their code. Which we all know will lead them to whoever their date may be. Claire could barely see into the gymnasium. Of what she could see, she knew that there was white everywhere, but that was expected, for it is the Winter Formal. She also noted that few people were already in the gym. The chaos outside of it could be the cause of that.

"Kris," Claire pointed her finger to the line around the table where they were passing out the codes. "Let's go." Kristen and Claire navigated their way through the crowd, received their four digit codes, and backed away. Well, they were more like shoved out of the way.

"No what do we do?" Kristen scanned the hallway, hoping she would lock eyes with her date, and he would suddenly know it was her.

"It's quite simple actually. We wait," Claire tapped her heel-clad foot with impatience and nervousness as she waited for her date to show up.

"Uh, hey," a much too familiar voice said behind her. She turned to see Derek Harrington, holding a single soft pink rose with a sheepish look on his face.

"YOU?" she screeched.

-

Review?