Carol's bedroom is a mess with an array of costumes and accessories spread out on her bed. Nicole is dumping out the contents of her backpack to mix in with Carol's. It seems like she has been carrying around a random assortment of costumes and makeup all day and I laugh at the ridiculousness of the scene.

"This is why you didn't have the English essay done?" I ask, picking up a crumpled hot pink skirt.

Nicole rolls her eyes, digging through her backpack with a grunt. She keeps pulling more things out and I begin to wonder if her bag is bottomless. I lean forward, trying to catch a glimpse of how tightly everything is packed.

"Clearly I had more important things to worry about," Nicole snaps, snatching the skirt from my hands. "That's not for you."

"Good," I say, pulling my cat ears and turtleneck from my bag, "because it wouldn't have matched anyways."

Nicole is fast swiping the ears from me, tossing them to Carol who holds them just out of my reach. Carol lifts an eyebrow, daring me to snatch them back, before tossing them into her wastebasket with a hint of disgust. "You're not wearing that cat costume," Nicole hisses, still digging to the bottom of her bag.

I exchange a look with Carol, who is carefully teasing her hair in her closet mirror. "Seriously Lace," Carol sighs, a bored expression on her face, "you're not four years old anymore."

Carol's going as Alex Owens from Flashdance, her gray sweatshirt already cut at the neck and hanging off the back of her chair. It's short and sexy and definitely will catch everyone's attention the way she wants it too. Carol's confidence is admirable and I'm slightly jealous that she can make even a gray sweatshirt look flawless. There's a hint of annoyance behind her eyes when she catches my gaze in the mirror. She smiles, but I know that she doesn't mean it.

"I think it's cute," I argue, folding and then refolding my turtleneck. I hate when they gang up on me, like I don't know how to dress myself.

"We know," Carol sighs sympathetically, like I'm a child who needs to be coddled.

"I don't have another costume," I say, turning away from Carol and the judgment in her eyes.

"Sure, you do." Nicole sings, straightening out a dark green, velvet dress from the bottom of her bag. It's the only piece of clothing that has been neatly folded, clearly taken care of. The design is stunning with a deep plunging neckline, off the shoulder sleeves with an elegant gold trim. "It's my sisters," Nicole explains, noticing the way my eyes widen. I picture her older sister wearing this at a college party and feel my mouth go slightly dry.

"It's too much," my voice is tight and I pull my legs up to my knees, eyeing the dress like it's a ticking bomb.

Nicole ignores my protests, dropping it into my lap. "It should fit," she continues, picking up a gold tiara off of Carol's bed and placing it haphazardly on my head.

I lift the dress with a finger, holding it as far away from me as possible. "This isn't even a costume," I continue, eyeing the trashcan my cat ears have disappeared to. They can't actually stop me from wearing them, but one look at Nicole's face tells me that they are not an option unless I want to arrive at the party with a major headache and both of my friends mad at me.

"Sure it is, you're princess Lacy tonight." Nicole explains, she's putting her costume together, but her eyes are still watching me closely, like she's waiting for me to bolt.

"No," I say, shaking my head. "I'm going to look like idiot Lacy."

"That's always what you look like," Carol sighs from behind me and Nicole smirks, covering her mouth. I shake my head, turning to shoot Carol a glare.

"I'm wearing the cat ears," I frown, tossing the dress to Nicole's feet. I crawl over to the wastebasket, but Carol kicks her foot out blocking me. I open my mouth, feeling a sudden rush of anger at Carol.

"You're going to look irresistible," Nicole interrupts, sensing the tension. She picks the dress up and holds it near my face, pulling my attention away from Carol. "It really brings out the green in your eyes." Nicole is trying, but I am still unconvinced. This isn't even a dress that I would choose to wear to the winter formal in fear that I would stand out too much.

Carol snorts, looking over her shoulder at us. Her eyes, still glinting with annoyance, narrow on the dress in my lap. Her hands grip the cut gray sweatshirt, twisting the fabric. "Give it up, Nicole," she sneers, tone sharp, "it's just too revealing for our girl."

This makes me flinch, my hands running over the soft fabric. I can't bring myself to look at Carol, feeling slightly hot. My eyes focus on the dress, carefully trailing the gold embellishments on the sleeves. I glance at Nicole, my brows knitting together. Maybe if I plead, she'll let it go, let me put on my turtleneck in peace.

Nicole's eyes flit over to Carol, biting her lip with a sigh, before focusing back on me. "Just try it on," Nicole commands, ignoring Carol and my gaze completely.

I sigh, feeling the weight of their differing expectations. I glance at Carol again, her face is stony, her eyes are daring me to prove her wrong. I grip the fabric a little tighter, looking for courage of any kind. "Fine," I grumble, standing and heading towards the bathroom. "But if I look ridiculous, I'm not going."

Nicole grins triumphantly, clapping her hands in excitement as I pass. "You won't. Trust me."

Locking the bathroom door behind me, I lean against the wall, steadying my breath with deep inhales. The mirror reflects my skeptical expression and I grip the counter, trying to chase away the look of self-doubt that lingers in my eyes. There's no reason not to wear the dress, I know this, but I am still embarrassed by the idea that some people might think I'm trying too hard.

I sigh, removing my sweater and skirt, leaving them crumpled on the floor as I slip into the dress. The fabric is soft against my skin, clinging to the shape of my body, and when I finally look at myself – I hate to admit it – but Nicole is right. The green velvet compliments my eyes, bringing out the flecks of green, and the gold trim adds a touch of elegance. I adjust the tiara on my head, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

The dress is stunning, but a little much for a high school Halloween party. I run my hands over the fabric, smoothing down the wrinkles over my hips, straightening the off the shoulder sleeves. I look older, mature, and not at all like myself. Butterflies begin to flap within my stomach and the familiar flush of nerves rises. I am completely out of my comfort zone, like I am wearing someone else's life. Nicole and Carol always know how to push my buttons, making me question if my own choices will ever be good enough. I know if I don't wear this dress tonight I will be disappointing them, further proving that I don't really fit into their world as an equal.

"Lace," Nicole calls from the other side of the bathroom door. "Let us see!"

I swallow, stepping back into Carol's room, folding my arms over my chest as I wait for their opinions. Nicole's face lights up with approval, while Carol's smirk holds a hint of something else – jealousy, maybe? Her Alex Owens costume doesn't even slightly compare and I feel a sudden rush of confidence, when she pulls at the off the shoulder sweatshirt, trying to show more skin..

"See?" Nicole says, clapping her hands together. "You look amazing."

Carol narrows her eyes slightly on Nicole, forcing a smile. "Sure, Billy Hargrove eat your heart out."

I shift uncomfortably, remembering the entire point of Nicole's plan for the evening. Billy's smirk flashes in my mind and the nerves are so intense my lip quivers slightly.

"I feel like I'm playing dress up," I admit, trying to steer clear of talking about Billy. The mention of his name causes my heart to flutter and I'm bothered with myself for not understanding why.

Nicole shakes her head, stepping forward to adjust the tiara. "You're stunning," she insists. "And tonight, you're going to have fun. No more worrying about anything else."

I glance at myself in the mirror again, trying to see what Nicole sees. The dress hugs my curves and accentuates the length of my legs. The tiara is simple, but brings out the natural highlights in my hair. Altogether, this is a costume that I would expect Carol to wear because it's flashy and seductive, but as much as I hate to admit it, Nicole is right about one thing – I am stunning. Maybe it's okay for me to stand out sometimes.

"Okay," I say, taking a deep breath. "Let's get this over with."

We spend the next few hours doing each other's makeup, teasing hair, and making last minute adjustments to our costumes. Carol has even snuck up a bottle from her parents liquor cabinet, mixing it with a sweet lemonade her mom had made for us. The more I drink, the more I begin to admire myself in the mirror, enjoying the way I look.

Finally, we're ready. Nicole looks like a glamorous popstar and Carol is the perfect Alex Owens. I take one last look in the mirror, smoothing down the dress, adjusting the tiara, and pulling my shoulder back so my chest stands out a bit further. The nerves are fully gone now, replaced with a courage and confidence I didn't have before.

Tommy and Chuck are waiting in the living room for us. The TV blaring loudly about the recent college games in the area. When we walk in, Tommy whistles low, standing up to pull Carol into him. He's dressed in a Cobra Kai costume that's somehow more embarrassing than Dustin's Ghostbuster suit. I catch the lingering gaze he gives me over Carol's shoulder, his eyes trailing up my legs quickly, a confused expression behind them. I am a little surprised, and hide myself behind the armchair, exchanging an uncomfortable look with Nicole.

"Lacy," Chuck breathes, leaning a little too close. "You look great."

Chuck is dressed up as Indiana Jones, the ruggedness of his costume suiting him a little too well. His costume is spot-on, from the worn leather jacket to the iconic fedora perched on his blonde, tousled hair. His chiseled jawline and bright blue eyes add to his overall appeal, making him look like he stepped straight out of the adventure film.

Despite his good looks, there's something about the way he invades my personal space that sets me on edge. His gaze lingers a bit too long, and the way he leans in, feels more intrusive than friendly. The nerves begin to awaken once more and I feel slight regret with my costume choice, wishing to switch the tiara out for the comfort of my cat ears.

"Thanks, Chuck," I manage to say, taking a small step back to put some distance between us. His attention is flattering, but there's an intensity in his eyes that's slightly uneasy, like he's trying too hard to make an impression.

Nicole, always observant, raises an eyebrow at me as if to say, "I told you so." I force a smile, trying to ignore the slowly sickening feeling in my stomach. Her plan is working a little too well and on the wrong guy.

The doorbell rings and I breathe a sigh of relief when the attention shifts to the front door. I stand closer to Nicole, feeling her hand gently brush my elbow in reassurance.

"Hargrove," Tommy cheers, opening the door and I feel myself stepping even closer to Nicole, trying to hide behind her.

Billy steps into Carol's house and my heart slams against my chest. He's in a black leather jacket, jeans, and boots. I fight the need to stare at his bare chest under the jacket, feeling Nicole's grip on my elbow tighten. We exchange a glance, both of our faces fighting nervous laughter.

Billy's eyes find mine, but his gaze lingers for a moment too long. My hands nervously tug at the dress, pulling the hem line down even more. His eyes trail the movement, his smirk faltering for the smallest of moments before his eyes meet mine again. There's a moment there where the room seems to slow down around us and I am desperate to know what he's thinking of me.

"You look good, Hargrove." Carol says lazily, barely looking up from her parents bar cart. Her cheeks are a little pink, a clear sign that Billy's presence can make her nervous as well. Tommy doesn't seem to notice or maybe he doesn't care, instead he is opening different bottles of alcohol, taking a sniff of each of the amber liquors he pulled off the top shelf.

I am having a hard time looking away from Billy for too long, the nerves rattling around my body like loaded springs. This is only the effects from the alcohol, making me feel slow, warm, and silly, but as Billy casually crosses the living room towards me I am having a hard time sorting out my true feelings about him from the tugging on my heart. Billy's gaze feels like a magnet, pulling me in despite my better judgment. I hate how effortlessly he gets under my skin, making me question my every move and my every thought about him.

"Your highness," Billy greets, winking at Nicole, who grips my elbow again. "You sure clean up nice, sweetheart."

"That makes one of us," I say, my voice strangely confident despite the fluttering of the butterflies. Billy shakes his head, but his smirk twitching into a genuine smile at me. It's brief, but it's there.

Chuck clears his throat next to me, breaking the moment. I had forgotten he was standing there, feeling slightly exposed again by the way his eyes meet mine.

"Lacy," he begins, his hand reaching out to brush the hair off my shoulder. I feel a shiver shoot down my spine from his touch, but it's not a feeling I enjoy. There's a rise of panic, feeling trapped where I'm standing between him and the wall.

Luckily, Nicole is quick, shifting to grab his arm with a smile. "Chuckie," she coos, interrupting whatever he's about to say, "let's make a drink!" He hesitates, refusing to be led away, but Nicole yanks him, pulling him off balance and towards the bar cart where Carol and Tommy are still standing.

I watch them go, relief settling inside me. The unease seems to lift instantaneously and I find my gaze meeting Billy's again. Now that we're alone, I swallow, fighting the temptation to look at his bare chest. Of course he has a six pack, it's almost ridiculous how perfectly sculpted he is. The thought makes me slightly annoyed to be in his presence, the audacity of him to be so attractive and arrogant and always taking up space in my mind.

"What are you supposed to be?" I ask, breaking the tension, forcing my voice to stay casual, despite the rising irritation. "A leather salesman?"

Billy chuckles, "Oh come on, I know you of all people have seen The Outsiders."

I fight the urge to tell him that it's one of my favorite books, refusing to give him any satisfaction that we might have anything in common. I narrow my eyes, desperate to drop my gaze to his chest. "I remember them wearing more clothes."

He steps closer, the smirk returning full force. "Guess I'm just a modern interpretation."

I can't stop myself now, my eyes drop to his chest, trailing the line of his stomach, before meeting his eyes again. Billy lifts an eyebrow, clearly amused by me. I shake my head more in spite of myself and how pathetic I am for being attracted to him, ignoring the deep need to reach out and touch him.

"Still, you might want to consider adding a shirt," I quip, trying to regain control of my thoughts. "Autumn in Indiana is drastically different from California. I'd hate for you to catch a cold."

Billy grins, leaning in slightly. The closeness causes my brain to feel cloudy and I remind myself to slow down on the vodka lemonades. "Don't pretend like you're not enjoying the view, Henderson."

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest, knowing he's caught me. "Please, I've seen better."

"Oh, really?" He tilts his head amused, turning to look at Chuck, who is standing across the room watching the exchange with a sour expression. "Don't tell me that Chuck's more impressive. I don't think my ego can handle it."

"I don't kiss and tell," I respond, trying to sound coy, but feeling my cheeks flush.

Billy laughs, the sound warm and surprisingly genuine. "Good. I like a girl who can keep my dirty secrets," he teases, stepping even closer.

I feel my heart race, a mix of excitement and nerves at what he insinuates. I swallow, knowing that he's waiting for me to take the bait and part of me desperately wants to, but I hold my ground, sighing like I'm bored.

"Who says I want to be one of your dirty secrets?" I ask, but a smile is tugging at my lips, enjoying the way his eyes spark at the hint of a challenge. It's a look I recognize, an anticipation that builds at the height of a match with my opponent when I have just scored a point.

Billy bites his lower lip, clearly enjoying the game. "You're going to make me work for this, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you mean," I shrug, glancing at my friends who are lining up a row of shots across the table, their voices and laughter carrying across the living room.

Carol's voice cuts through loud and excited, breaking the tension between us, "Alright, everyone, pick your poison." She opens her arms, presenting a table of shots for all of us, like she's Vanna White.

We gather around the table, Billy handing me a shot before grabbing his own. It's a subtle gesture, but one that doesn't go unnoticed. I catch Carol's look, her brow lifting slightly at me. Her eyes are watching closely, like she's calculating every move, every interaction. Is she trying to push us together or is part of her jealous that all the attention isn't on her?

"Aw, doll, is this your first shot?" Carol asks, her voice lifting in fake kindness. Tommy snorts next to her, exchanging a humorous look with Chuck.

There's a shift in the air, as Carol waits for my response. I refuse to drop my eyes, but I can feel the wave of a blush flowing over me. "No," I spit, my voice even, waiting for her to argue. It's a lie, she knows it's a lie, but she just shares a vicious smile.

"Cheers then," she says, lifting up her shot glass, everyone else following suit. I hesitate, but lift the shotglass to my lips. The smell of the straight vodka makes my eyes water, but I hold my breath, fighting the deepest need to gag as the alcohol rushes down my throat. It's different from the small mix drinks from earlier, more intense, and disgusting. I shiver, a trail of goosebumps lifting up my arms.

I set the shot glass down quickly, feeling the tears pricking my eyes from the burn. I am fighting the urge to look at Carol, feeling her eyes burning into me, waiting for me to gag at the taste. Suddenly, Billy is holding a larger cup in front of me, nodding for me to take it. I sip it, the sweetness of the lemonade chasing the burn of the alcohol away. Billy licks his lips, fighting the smile that threatens his face.

"Like a champ," he teases, voice low enough that only I can hear. "Finish that," Billy continues, chuckling slightly, "it'll kill the burn."

"I know that," I say, sipping the lemonade again.

"I'm sure you do," he agrees, his eyes refusing to lift from my face.

I drop my eyes from his gaze and glance at Nicole. She's smiling, subtly nodding her head in support. I lift the lemonade to my lips again, fighting the smile that dares to threaten my face.

"We should probably get going," Tommy says, but he's apparently in no real rush because he begins pouring out another round of shots for everyone.

The group lifts it to our lips and I find that the burning of the vodka is less, the feeling rushing straight to my head this time. I take a deep sip of the lemonade, watching as Billy rolls his shoulders as the vodka travels down his throat. I hand him the rest of the lemonade and he winks, taking the cup from me.

"Chuckie's driving," Carol says, pulling our attention back to her. I notice that her eyes are on me and Billy, flitting back and forth. There's a pink tinge to her face, her arms crossed over her chest, the irritation is radiating off of her but I don't understand why. She has Tommy standing right next to her, his arm wrapped around her waist, there is no reason for her to be so interested in the interactions between me and Billy.

Billy makes a show of taking out his car keys, the metal jangling together, shaking his head. "I'm not showing up in a station wagon," he says, the familiar arrogance rising back in his voice. He smirks at Chuck, who clenches his fists slightly at the jab, "No offense, Chuck."

"It's cool," Chuck says, eyes settling on me. "You got everything, Lace?"

Chuck's voice is firm, annoyed at the proximity between myself and Billy, but there's a dare to his tone and I realize he's locked in his own match with Billy over my attention.

I swallow, looking back and forth between them, suddenly realizing the way both of their eyes are on me. Chuck is looking at me expectantly, but there's a hint of possession in his eyes that makes me uncomfortable in my own skin. My hands reach for the hem of my dress again, tugging at the fabric, trying to save a little bit of modesty as Chuck's look only seems to burn through me.

I glance at Billy, he's looking at me with a less expectant stare. The butterflies in my stomach are swirling, my mind buzzing slightly from the alcohol, but before I can make my own decision, Carol's voice interrupts again, "Nicole should go with you, she's the only one without a date."

I feel myself flinch slightly, noticing the way Carol's eyes flick between Chuck and myself. Billy tenses next to me, but I can't bring myself to look at him, feeling my embarrassment growing.

"What?" Nicole hisses, but she flinches slightly when Carol snaps a look on her. "I mean, I thought the whole point was all of us going together."

I inhale sharply, narrowing my eyes onto Carol. The realization hits me like a splash of cold water to the face. Carol wants to mess this up, clearly hating the idea that I am receiving more attention than her. It might be jealousy, it might be control, but it's clear, despite my costume and my confidence: Carol's the queen bee here and she'll get the last word no matter what.

Carol meets my eyes, daring me to disagree, to cause a scene in front of Billy and Chuck. Her need to remind people where they belong is suffocating, but standing up to her is never worth it. I feel myself roll over slightly, when I drop my eyes.

"No," I say, feeling my voice tightening, pretending like everything's okay. "She's right. You should go Nicole. I'm sure Billy would like the company." I force a smile, hoping it's enough to ease the storm.

Nicole exchanges a look with me and I nod reassuringly, slipping away from Billy to grab my purse off the chair. Nicole joins me, her eyes questioning, but she doesn't argue.

As we walk away, I lean into her and whisper, "Just go with it. It doesn't matter anyways."

Nicole makes a face, glancing at the rest of the group who are clearing off the table, getting ready to leave. "I'll put in a good word," she whispers, giving my hand a quick squeeze.

I take a deep breath, casting a final glance at Billy, as we head out the front door. His eyes follow me, a mix of curiosity and something else I don't recognize. He's slightly guarded, his eyes glancing at Chuck again, who is opening the car door for me. For a moment, I wonder if I'm making the right choice, but then I remember the look on Carol's face and know that I need to play this smart.

I feel the same rising anxiety watching Nicole and Billy walk away. She's laughing, the sound carrying through the calm night. I feel a tinge of jealousy, but exchange a smile with Carol. Pretending like everything is okay is my specialty.