"And it took me a while to realize it, but everything I've had to go through in this life, all the pain and sadness I've had to bear . . . well, its led me straight to you."
• • •
After tragedy strikes Mo...
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"What about this one?" Lana pulls a white dress off of the rack in front of us, holding it up to herself and striking a pose as she faces me. I roll my eyes teasingly at my friend, unable to stop the laughter rising in my throat from escaping my lips.
"For the last time," I say, shaking my head, "they all look amazing, Lana. Maybe you should try one on?"
"It's just so hard to pick one!" Lana whines, pouting as she goes back to staring at the dresses hanging in a row before her. She's already got an armful of options in hand, and she's only adding to that pile as we continue to browse. "Maybe I should do an outfit change every song? That way I can wear more than one dress!"
"Lana." I shake my head at my friend, biting my lip so that the laughter I'm so desperately trying to keep in won't escape. "That would be way too much money."
"You're right," Lana agrees, clearly bummed. She sets the white dress back on the rack, frowning. "Have you made any decisions yet?"
Both of my hands are empty. We've been shopping for a few hours, yet I still haven't managed to find the dress. For some reason, I can't stop myself from wondering what kind of dress Jack likes, or what he's going to think of what I look like if we run into each other. It's ridiculous and crazy, yet the thoughts won't stop coming.
"Not yet," I admit, eyes wandering over the racks in front of me. "Still looking."
"Wanna meet in front of the dressing rooms in ten?" Lana questions, eyes narrowing as she studies the endless options of dresses she has piled in her arms. I nod, deciding that's a pretty good idea. We depart from each other after a second, each taking a different side of the store. I look through the racks, shifting through the dresses in boredom.
It takes a while, but a dress finally manages to catch my eye. It's simple in design, with a tight black bodice and long sleeves made of sheer lace. I don't know why I seem to like it so much, but I can't stop myself from thinking I might have finally found the right dress for the occasion. I head to the dressing room, slipping the dress on to see what it looks like on me.
I almost gasp at my own reflection when I turn toward the mirror. The gown hugs my body in all the right ways, pronouncing my curves without being too obvious about it. The hem hits only a few inches above the knee, wrapping around my thighs tightly. The sleeves are gorgeous, a simple lace design that turns the dress from what some might call scandalous to girly. I love it instantly, dreading having to take it off—which is shocking considering I've always hated dresses.
When Lana sees me in the dress, she squeals and claps, making me smile. She looks gorgeous herself, adorned in a light pink dress with a short, yet full, skirt and no sleeves.
"You look amazing!" we both cry at the same time, bursting into laughter once we realize we've spoken at once. "I love your dress," we once again repeat in unison, adding to our laughter.
