The Perfect Day

Amaya

“Yeah, I just need a little help with the zipper,” I called back, and she tugged the curtain open, stepped inside, and did it up for me. I turned to the mirror. I bit my lip to keep from laughing out loud. It looked terrible. It was a few inches too long, the waist flopping awkwardly down around my hips and the bustline drooping nearly to my belly button.

“Okay, that looks like crap.” Cleo shook her head and chuckled. “Maybe scrap this one, huh?”

“Glad you said it,” I replied. Any tension that might have remained between us was gone. We went through the rest of the dresses she had picked out for me, and I tried not to think too hard about the price tags. This was just fun, after all, and I was sure I could suggest a place a little more in my price range when this was all done with and pick up something there.

But then she handed me one last dress, deep green, a similar color to the one I had worn that very first night when Kristo and I had met at the gala. I slipped it on, and I