That Stupid Little L-Word:

Chapter Fifty-Seven:

"Oh, I'm so excited," my mom squeals. Her fingers drum against the steering wheel in a rapid motion. "I just can't believe you actually got her to agree to go to prom. She hates school dances."

Amanda makes herself comfortable in the seat behind my mother, and blows at her nails. "My powers of persuasion are fabulous, I know," she says.

I roll my eyes toward the sky.

Kylie elbows Amanda, making the girl grunt. Amanda pouts and watches Kylie settle back against the seat next to her. Kylie's legs cross, and her gaze shifts toward the scenery that passes outside the van. Amanda's pout deepens.

I rest my cheek against my fist, elbow propped against the door beside me. "I'm not looking forward to this," I grumble.

"You'll learn to love it," my mom says, flashing me a smile. "Dress shopping was always my favorite part."

"But you didn't have a balloon for a stomach back then," I snap.

That makes her frown. Kylie leans forward in her seat, and her hand squeezes my shoulder. "Don't worry Alice. There are still dresses out there that will look great on you. And if you like one that doesn't, my mom can fix it."

I look out the window again. "Sure."

The van pulls into the parking lot that surrounds our local mall. The arrangement of close-knit buildings seem to tower in the distance, ominous and threatening. I grimace as we approach. The van turns into a parking spot near the entrance to JC Penny's and my mother silences the engine.

"Ready?" she asks.

I throw open the door and wiggle out. My stomach is a lot bigger now; I only have a couple more months to go before I pop. It's the most uncomfortable thing I've ever experienced.

Kylie is there immediately, a hand on my elbow to help me along. She walks me around the car to meet my mother and Amanda. The latter takes my other elbow, looping her arm though mine. My mother stumbles along behind us, snapping pictures.

"Would you stop?" I ask her, annoyed.

She beams at me. "You'll thank me some day," she says, and then rushes around to grab the door. I grumble under my breath and step inside the department store. A cold burst of air slams against me full force. I shudder and look around.

"Why did we have to come in through the lingerie side," I complain. My mood sours even more as I look at all the skinny, not-pregnant mannequins. Their plastic bodies are even smaller than Kylie's. I don't understand why department stores do this; they need more realistic mannequins. Especially in the underwear department. I mean, every female, despite her body shape, wears underwear... right?

Kylie and Amanda drag me through the main aisle, toward the vibrant junior's section. A huge, colorful sign directs us toward their massive collection of prom dresses. I take it in. Rack after rack, filled with all sorts of extravagant and flashy dresses. All so beautiful, and all meant for not-pregnant teenagers.

I'm so overwhelmed.

"I don't think I can do this," I mutter under my breath.

Kylie hears, and squeezes my arm. "It'll be fine, Alice. Just relax. There are plenty of dresses and different sizes to choose from."

"I don't even like dresses," I hiss at her.

Amanda wrinkles her nose. "I don't either." She reaches out toward a short teal colored dress with a tulle skirt. Her fingers fish out the price tag and turn it over. She exhales. "Whoa, three hundred dollars for this little thing? I don't think so."