The Improbability of Forever (Kismet #2) ✓

6. In Over my Head

Six

In Over my Head

By nine AM the following day, I realized that I had become obsessed with prom.

I regretted it greatly. I lamented falling into the same trap that hordes of girls have fallen into, the one that insists that we obsess over dresses and jewelry and shoes and hairstyles and to top it off, even the type of tuxedo our date is wearing. But I couldn't help it.

At nine AM I sat in my lab stool in chemistry class, discreetly flicking through photos of dresses. Cody sat next to me, twirling his pencil between his fingers and listening half-heartedly to Mrs. Smith's lecture. On my other side was Elisabeth, who was very obviously looking over my shoulder and making small noises of either approval or disapproval.

I screen-shotted a few dresses that I liked and sent them to Julia for approval, who responded by the end of third period with an extensive message filled with her practical opinions. I had filtered through the essay and narrowed down my options by three o'clock, when Cody met me by my locker.

"I'm thinking a bright color," I told him as I threw my geometry textbook into my locker. "Also, mermaid cut would look good, don't you think?"

"If you're asking me if you should wear a flipper to prom, I strongly disagree." Cody handed me my homework planner, which I hadn't used in several months, and I dropped it into my backpack. I was surprised with how well he was taking this whole prom thing—he was extremely excited when I'd told him earlier that I was going dress shopping that afternoon and that he should join me. Julia had wanted to come, too, but I'd told her this was going to be a special experience with just Cody. She'd been a little miffed at not being invited but had cheered up immediately when Cody proposed she help Sam with his homework instead.

By three thirty Cody had taken a tight turn into the parking lot and I hopped out of the car. The store looked a little like a warehouse, and mannequins in the windows showed off flattering wedding gowns and prom dresses. Cody whistled as he hopped out of the driver's side and slammed the door shut behind him.

"You should definitely get that one," he observed, pointing to a skimpy black lace dress in the window that seemed to display more mannequin than fabric.

I elbowed him and hopped up onto the curb, eager to start looking at dresses.

A bell jingled when we stepped inside of the store and a saleswoman bustled up to us, a garment bag draped over one arm. "Prom or wedding?" she asked.

I bit back a sarcastic comment and said politely, "Prom."

Nodding, she hung the garment bag on a rack near the door and gestured towards the back of the store. "Prom and pageant dresses are lining the walls, sorted by size. If your boyfriend wants to look at tuxes while you're shopping, they're tucked back behind the fitting rooms."

Cody cleared his throat but I nodded. "Thanks."

"Of course. Let one of my associates know when you need a dressing room."

She turned to the garment bag and unzipped it, leaving me free to escape the awkward situation. I passed several shelves of shoes and a jewelry case on the way to the prom dresses—at least a hundred of them lined the shelves.

"This is going to take forever," I muttered, turning in a slow circle so I could see all of the racks. I definitely wasn't cut out for this kind of heavy shopping, especially when I didn't have Julia by my side. I doubted Cody would be a substitute cheerleader and motivator when I started complaining in about twenty minutes.