I scanned the shoe rack for something either pink or maybe orange. My eyes flitted from one pair to another, completely passing what matched my preferences perfectly. I darted my eyes back, and stared in wonder. 

In front of me, right in front of me, were a pair of baby pink shoes. Their heels were probably two inches tall, and it was wonderfully simple. Just pink heels with a small dark pink ribbon to tie the shoes to my ankles. They each even had small delicate bows of the same ribbon on the toes of the shoes. 

I slowly neared the shoes, reaching out to pluck them from their place on the rack in awe. I turned around to face Dahlia, who was rifling through the two boxes of masks, and said, “Look.” 

My voice was so faint, it was a surprise that she even heard me. I hadn’t looked up from the magic in my palms, but heard Dahlia’s gasp of approval. 

“Oh! I know the perfect mask to go with those!” she said. 

At this statement, I looked up. She put down the current box she had been holding and reached into the other one. With a look of triumph, she pulled out a red mask. 

A red mask? No, wait. It wasn’t red. It was a dark pink, similar to the color of the ribbons on the shoes in my hands or to the thin sash that tied together the jacket. 

“Woah,” I breathed, and Dahlia smirked with pride. 

I walked closer to get a better look, to be able to see all of the details. It was a mask that was also made of separate parts, except it had only three different parts instead of four. 

One, the main mask itself. It was a pink that seemed on the verge of red, dotted with small rhinestones of lighter pinks in a symmetrical pattern. It was simplistic like the shoes and jacket were, helping to balance out the drama of the dress. 

Two, the ribbons. The longer ribbon was actually red, bright and silky in the light. The second, shorter ribbon was a pink that was a bit lighter than the mask itself. They hung together at the bottom right hand corner. 

Three, the holding stick, almost exactly the same as the other masks’. The only difference was that it was wrapped in a dark burgundy ribbon instead of a bluish-green. 

“I’ll leave so that you can get changed. Call me in when you’re ready,” Dahlia told me as she placed the mask into my too full hands and waltzed out the door. 

I giggled at her enthusiasm, and got to changing. First, I needed a place to put all this, so I trudged over to the couch and dumped all of my stuff onto it. 

“Okay, dress first,” I murmured to myself. 

I took a look at the pile of garments in front of me. 

“Scratch that,” I said under my breath. “Find the dress first.” 

I began to lightly pick up whatever my hands came across first. The mask, as it was on top. I picked it up and placed it on the farthest couch cushion. Second, the shoes. I put those next to the mask. Third, the tangle of the jacket and dress. 

I carefully pried them apart, making sure to do so delicately so that I don’t rip or tear anything. 

“Finally,” I breathed out in a sigh. 

I set everything out in order in front of me, and began to undress as quickly as I could. Even though I trusted Dahlia, I didn’t feel quite that comfortable completely undressed in front of her. And it was cold, too. 

I had soon changed completely out of my school clothes and into the glorious gown that Dahlia and I picked out. I had to do what Dahlia had done, which was grasp onto the front of the dress to keep it from slipping and hold onto the strings behind me. 

Carefully, I used my foot to sweep the two shoes off of the couch and onto the floor in an attempt to wear them. Unfortunately, they fell off the couch and bounced to the floor on their sides. 

I gave a slight groan, and tried to maneuver them upright to get them on my feet. I only succeeded in pushing them around the floor a few times before giving up. 

“Dahlia?” I called. “Could you help me tie the back of this dress?” 

“Sure thing!” she responded, and I heard the door open behind me. 

My best friend came up behind me and took the strings from my grip. I now used both my arms to hold up my dress and Dahlia also wrapped the strings around her hand. When her fingers were mere inches from my back, she started her countdown. 

“Three, two,” she started, and I took a deep inhale, closing my eyes and bracing myself. “Three!” 

I gasped and my eyes flew open as the dress cinched tight around me. Wow, Dahlia was way stronger than I was. I felt winded. 

I felt Dahlia tie off the strings to keep the dress in place, then step back once she was done. 

“Whoo! That is... Tight!” I said, breathless as the dress constricted my lungs. 

“Is it too tight? I’m sorry,” Dahlia said, apologetically. 

“It’s fine,” I reassured her as I had tried bending over to grab my shoes. It was difficult with the tight bodice of the dress around me, but I did manage, however. 

Once my shoes were in hand, I placed them the right way in front of my feet, and carefully stepped into them. Left foot first, then the right foot. They were snug on my feet, and I knew that too much time in them would result in blisters, but I straightened anyway. 

I turned to look at the couch in search of my jacket, but found it missing. 

“Where’s the-?” I started, but I immediately found the answer to my unspoken question. 

“Oh, thanks!” I said as I took the jacket from Dahlia’s outstretched hands and pulled it on. 

It was soft enough to be comfortable, except for where the lace was. That part was irritating against my bare skin. 

“And where’s the-?” I began again, but Dahlia was already there with the bright pink sash in her hands. 

I smiled at her, and she returned the smile. 

“Arms up,” she told me, and I obliged. 

Dahlia went around behind me, and wrapped my waist in the thin sash. I felt her knot it against my back, and, on impulse, I tried to twist my head around to look. 

“Ack!” I heard Dahlia splutter. “Your hair!” 

“Oops! Sorry,” I said, quickly grabbing my hair and pulling it over my right shoulder. It must have whacked Dahlia in the face as I tried to peek over my shoulder. 

“It’s fine,” Dahlia told me, chuckling once. “Can you reach back here?” 

I felt her tap a spot on my back, somewhere in the middle. That must be where she was tying the ribbon. 

I transferred my unruly hair into my right hand and reached with my left around my back. I felt Dahlia’s fingers close around mine, guiding me to the place where she would tie the bow. 

“Here,” she said, pressing my hand onto the knot that was already there. I held my fingers in place, and waited for her to tell me when to remove my hand. 

“Annnnd...” I heard her say, slowly drawing out the sounds. “Now!”

I swiftly pulled my hand up and out, feeling the brush of the ribbon as it tightened into a knot. 

“Done!” my best friend told me. 

I took this as a sign that I could let go of my hair and start moving again. I turned around to face my very helpful friend, but she wasn’t looking at me. She had bent over and was picking up the mask that I had placed on the couch. 

When she turned back to face me, mask in hand, she held it up to my face, smiling. I smiled back as I gently took the mask into my left hand, careful not to pull on the ribbons that hung next to the stick. I realized now that when looking at the mask from the front, the ribbons and stick were on the right. But, when looking through the mask from the back, they were on the left. 

I delicately brushed one of the ribbons off my hand, and turned to look at Dahlia. 

“So? What’d you think?” I asked. 

“You look beautiful,” Dahlia said, smiling. 

I beamed, and we walked over to the mirror so that I could see my reflection. Wow, was literally all I could think. My brain short circuited, and I just stared for a minute. Then, my mind started functioning again. 

“Oh, I love this dress,” was the first thing I could manage to say. 

“It is a great dress,” Dahlia told me, probably amused at my dumbfoundedness. Then, softly, Dahlia said, “But I think it’s the girl wearing the dress.” 

I tore my eyes from my reflection to meet Dahlia’s eyes in the mirror. I smiled my gratitude, and she smiled right back. 

“You really are the best friend anyone could possibly ask for,” I told Dahlia, my voice thick with the adoration I had for her. 

“So are you,” she told me right back. “Now, let’s get you out of that dress so that we can go play the new video game I got!” 

I snorted at her enthusiasm, but let her undo all of the knots she made. Soon, she was skipping merrily out of her walk-in closet, and I watched her go in amusement. 

I quickly followed her previous demands, pulling off my dress with caution, and slipping the clothes that I had worn to school back on. 

And while I changed, I was deep in thought. I mean, Dahlia had endured being my dress up doll and fellow fashion consultant. Well, if beating me at playing various video games makes her happy, I might as well. 

But man. I suck at them!