soooo sexy."

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I turned away from her to see myself in the full-length mirror. For a second I was sure I was

looking at someone else's reflection.

"Lovely," said the saleswoman. "So mature. And it's on sale. Fifty percent off."

"Guys," I said, waving my hand in front of their faces. "I can't buy this dress."

"You have to get it," said Jessica. "You look amazing in it."

"Yeah," said Madison. "If I looked that thin in a dress, I'd totally buy it."

"It's a beautiful dress," said the saleslady.

I looked back at myself in the mirror. It was like I'd been transformed into my incredibly sexy

older sister. Or maybe my incredibly slutty older sister. I turned around. You could see the lines

of my underwear through the tight fabric.

"Come here," said the saleslady, beckoning me over with her finger. When I got to where she

was standing, she spun me around and in one move, unclasped my bra, slipped the straps off my

shoulder, and whipped it off. "There," she said. "Much better." Then she pointed at my butt.

"Also, you need a thong."

"A thong?"

"Yes," she said. "A thong is--"

"I know what it is," I said quickly. "I just don't own one."

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"Oh, we'll go to Lace Escapes," Madison said. Then she started to giggle.

Jessica giggled, too. "Yeah," she said, giggling harder, "they have really nice stuff."

Their laughter was contagious. "Guys, stop," I said, laughing. "I don't know ..."

But I did know.

I was getting it.

Jessica's mom pulled up in her car just as the three of us were stepping out of Lace Escapes. She

honked and waved. "Hi, girls," she called. Then she pointed at Jessica's bag. "What'd you get?"

Jessica waved at her mom. "I got the cutest tank top at Ralph Lauren. You're gonna love it."

"Oh good, honey. I can't wait to see it," said Mrs. Johnson. Then she smiled at me and I smiled

back. A lot of teenagers get stressed out about meeting peoples' parents, but it doesn't bother me.

I do parents really well-- they always tell my dad what a nice girl I am, how I'm so polite and

everything. For a second, though, while Mrs. Johnson was smiling in my direction, I felt a

nervous flutter. I was afraid she was going to ask me what I'd gotten, and I'd have to say, "Oh, you know, just a sexy red dress and a lace thong." -- It wasn't quite the nice-girl impression I was

eager to make.

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Chapter Twelve

Just before seven, Princess One let out a shriek that penetrated the floorboards of the living

room--where she and her sister were sitting by the window waiting for Connor--and reverberated

through the basement-- where I was standing in front of the mirror waiting for Connor.

"He drives a Lexus!"

"That is so cool," Princess Two screamed down to me. "A Lexus is a very cool car."

I didn't care what car Connor was driving; I was just relieved he hadn't stood me up. But I

couldn't take much time to thank my fairy godmother right at that particular moment, as I was in

the midst of negotiating what could only be described as an extremely tricky thong situation.

The lady at Lace Escapes had assured me the thong I'd

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gotten was the most comfortable one on the market. "You won't even feel it," she'd said about ten thousand times.

But how can you not feel something that keeps going up your butt? And not only does it keep

going up your butt, it's supposed to keep going up your butt.

I shimmied, hoping to get the thong to relocate, but it didn't help. Maybe I just needed to take it

off. But then what if we got in a car accident and the paramedics discovered that under my tiny

little red dress I wasn't wearing any underwear? Maybe they'd decide any girl who was that big

of a slut didn't deserve to live.

The bell rang and I heard the Princesses shout, "We'll get it! We'll get it!" I didn't move.

The longer I stood there, the more convinced I became that I needed to start from scratch--just

take off the thong and the dress and wear something normal like ...

But of course that was the problem. Normal like what? Normal like jeans and a T-shirt? Because

if the dress came off, that was pretty much all there was to choose from. I did my little "Thong,

Please Get Out of My Butt" dance again. Something somewhere must have shifted because for a

second I was able to concentrate on something other than my posterior. Unfortunately, that

something was my toes, which were pinched together in a pair of shoes I'd bought for (and hadn't

worn since) my dad and Mara's engagement party--a night on which I'd been in so much

emotional pain my aching feet had barely registered.

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I looked at my reflection. The older girl in the mirror who shrugged back at me didn't look nearly

as uncomfortable as I felt. Actually, she looked kind of cool and sexy. I stood up straighter. As

long as I didn't have to walk more than ten yards, I'd probably be okay. I smiled, checking to see

if there was any lipstick on my teeth. Then I bent over, ran my hands through my hair, and

fluffed the ends like I'd seen Jessica do. It looked good.

Unfortunately, it didn't feel good. Bending over had caused the thong to shift westward again.

Walking through the dining room, I could hear Connor talking, and when I got a view of the

foyer, I saw that the Princesses were standing one on either side of him, staring silently up at his

beautiful face. I guess they were too young to appreciate how great his body looked in a pair of

khakis and a dark blue sweater.

Connor saw me and whistled. "Hey, gorgeous," he said, looking me up and down. "Now, that's a dress." The Princesses looked over at me, and then Princess One nodded at Princess Two.

"You look pretty, Lucy," said Princess One.

I wasn't sure if they were going to follow up the compliment with an insult ("Yeah, pretty

slutty"). When neither of them added anything, I said, "Thanks." They returned to gazing adoringly at Connor.

Just then my dad and Mara came downstairs. She was wearing an apron, as if she'd been slaving

away at

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the stove all day, when really she'd spent the better part of the afternoon getting dressed, before

throwing some tinfoil-covered catered platters into the oven. As she came toward us, she

removed her apron, exposing her tiny, pink silk dress, which didn't look all that different from

mine. This could not be a good sign, but I couldn't figure out which of us shouldn't have been

dressed the way she was.

My dad did a double take when he saw what I was wearing, and for a second I was sure he was

going to tell me there was no way I was leaving the house looking like that. I almost wished he

would--my toes were throbbing. But then he just stuck out his hand. "You must be Connor," he

said. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, sir," said Connor, and even though it was a cheesy thing to say, I was glad

Connor had said it. I wanted tonight to be perfect, even if perfect meant full of clichés, like

Connor calling my dad sir.

"Lucy's told us so much about you," said Mara. This was a total lie. I hadn't even mentioned