"Wow..." Meg remarked in an Owen Wilson imitation as Rosie swerved into the next lane to get around a particularly slow vehicle.

"What?" Rosie asked, decidedly unamused though the imitation would normally have gotten a laugh out of her.

In a rather meek voice, clearly wary of facing Rosie's wrath, Meg commented, "Nothing. It's just...your driving is kinda scary."

Rosie shot her a glare. "Well, if someone would get their license, I wouldn't have to drive all the time," she pointed out.

Meg couldn't exactly argue with that. She had her learner's permit, but every time she tried to take the driver's test, she failed by a single point. So, for now, she had to rely on Rosie for rides...which she didn't usually mind, unless Rosie was in a mood (like today), in which case her driving got a little terrifying.

Rosie turned the car into the mall parking lot and screeched into a parking stall, throwing the car into park. "A little retail therapy should turn this clusterfuck of a day around," she said dryly, though her tone didn't suggest she truly believed that.

"Jeez," Meg said, "What the fuck happened this morning that's got your panties in a twist?"

Rosie glowered at nothing in particular as they passed through the sliding doors to enter the mall. "Oh, nothing. Just my stupid mother desperately throwing herself at Alex last night..." she said darkly.

Meg's brows leapt up her forehead in surprise. "Wait... What?"

"I invited her over for dinner and all evening it was like my mom was a dog staring at a steak," Rosie described. "It was mortifying."

"I thought your mom was dating someone?"

She shrugged. "I thought she was... Maybe she got too annoying for them because I sure as fuck don't know how anyone could stand to date her."

Meg elbowed her, harder than entirely necessary. "You're being kind of a bitch," she said, though the words were gentler than the elbow. "Your mom isn't that bad."

"You just say that because you don't have to live with her," Rosie muttered, but she had to admit – if only to herself – that maybe Meg was right. As much as Emily irritated her some days, Rosie loved her mother very much and knew that she was very lucky to have her. "Whatever," she grumbled, in an attempt to avoid hearing I told you so.

In an attempt to divert the conversation from Rosie's anger, Meg said, "Anyway... So, you had the milf on home turf, huh?" She elbowed her again, gentler this time. "How was it? Did she look hot?"

Rosie attempted to bite down on her smirk to avoid looking too thrilled, but when Meg waggled her brows mischievously, she lost the battle and her grin broke free. "She looked sooooo fucking sexy," she effused, her expression dreamy. "I could totally see down her blouse and she was wearing the sexiest lacy black bra and oh my God, her..."

Meg cut her off with a sharp, "Ewww! TMI!" She made a dramatic retching sound, pretending to vomit. "I love you, Ro, but I really don't need to know anything about what kind of underwear my teacher wears."

"Oh God, I can only imagine..." Rosie said, more dreamily than before. She clapped a hand over her heart like she were performing Romeo and Juliet. Several long moments passed while she imagined exactly that. Then, suddenly, a wicked grin spread across her face and she whispered, "I just had the best idea!"

Seeming rather wary, Meg chanced asking, "What is it?"

"Come with me," she commanded, wrapping her fingers around Meg's wrist and dragging her along after her. She failed to elaborate until the two of them came to a sudden halt in front of the lingerie store...at which point she didn't need to elaborate because Meg could practically read her mind. "What colour do you think would look sexiest?"

"Well..." Meg mused, head cocking to the side as she studied Rosie, "Red and black are classics...but I've always thought you look really great in like a teal colour."

While Rosie was in the change room trying on bras, Meg leaned against the door, staring off into space. "So..." she said slowly, "Have you thought about what you wanna do for Prom?" She scuffed her sneaker across the black floor tiles, the rubber making a high-pitched squeaking sound against the floor.

"Huh?" Rosie asked through the door, struggling with the clasp on the bra she was trying on.

"Prom," Meg repeated, louder. "I mean, you're running out of time to decide if you want to go with someone." Rosie opened her mouth to reply, but didn't get the chance before Meg seemed to read her mind. "I know, I know, there's only one person you'd want to go with, but you can hardly ask her to Prom..."

Rosie sighed rather dramatically because Meg was right. That didn't mean she had to like it, though... "Maybe I just won't go," she said. She shrugged, even though Meg couldn't see it. There was nothing she would have liked more than to have a cheesy cliched TV-style slow dance with Alex (except maybe a cheesy cliched TV-style losing of her virginity), but that would certainly cause quite the scandal and the last thing she wanted was to be the reason Alex lost her job.

"No!" Meg exclaimed. A beat, during which Meg's cheeks flamed bright red with embarrassment. "I mean...you have to come - you only get one Junior Prom in your whole life!"

She scoffed. "Like you said, I can't go with the only person I'd ever want to go with...so, what's the point?"

In a meek little voice, Meg said, "Well, you could go with your one and only BFF..."

"Well, yeah," she agreed with a roll of her eyes, "But you'll probably get asked by someone and then I'll be left alone the whole time while you're off dancing and having fun and I'll be bored."

If possible, Meg's voice got even smaller and meeker, "I wouldn't do that. You're my bestie..."