reflection ● jason grace

Jason should ask out Octavian

"So," Leila said, looking through the racks of too fancy dresses. "Tell me more about you and Reyna."

Only one shop in New Rome actually carried the fancy clothing Daria needed, and she was pretty sure it was only open for a few months in a year before it transformed itself into a Thai restaurant. Likewise, only one store carried shoes; jewelry was imported from the outside world and the best hairdresser in town was Jess's mother.

It was sunny out for December, but still cold. Daria was wearing a t-shirt and a sweater, and she still stood by the shop's portable heater whenever she got the chance. "What do you want to know?"

Leila laughed. "Not everything's a test, Dars. You've been spending too much time with Daniel."

"You can say that again," Daria muttered. She leaned back against the counter, watching the materials Leila was sifting through. "I mean, I like Reyna. I think she's strong. I think she's pretty. What more is there?" She smiled at the shop owner who was reading by the cash register.

Leila snorted. "You're really selling it." She picked out a red dress and added it to the growing pile. "You know, when she first arrived, I thought you two hated each other."

Daria frowned. "I don't know why everyone thinks that."

"To be fair, there are very few people in this camp that you don't look like you hate."

"You are so mean to me," Daria whined. "I'm not a mean person."

"I know that," Leila handed her a bunch of dresses. "Daniel and Jason probably know that. I'm pretty sure everyone else is scared of you. You've got resting bitch face."

"Wonderful," the primus pilus mumbled. "And here I thought it was my leadership skills."

"Try those on," Leila said in response. "Then come out here so I can judge you."

Daria snorted. "This day just gets better and better."

She went back to one of the fitting rooms. Leila had given her a black dress that was cut too low, a gold long sleeve with frills, and a simple red one.

Daria looked over all of them. The gold one would be too tight, she knew, and Daria hated anything that restricted her arms. She knew she would be even more out of place if she wore what was basically a shiny straight jacket.

The black one was a bit revealing, but Daria put it on anyway. To be fair, she had never worn a dress. She figured all of them would feel that way, but this was a little much.

Daria peeked her head out the door. "Isn't there supposed to be cloth underneath my arm?"

Leila looked up, gliding over to open the door wider. Daria made a noise of protest, but Leila yanked the handle without pausing, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah no," she said. "We need the men to be able to walk...and think. This dress was made for a twenty-year-old. Try the others."

Daria shut the door hastily. The black dress was too big; it slipped off her easily. The red one looked more her size, which was an awkward one – both short and gangly. She had to reach behind her to zip it up, trying to contort her body in a way it didn't like.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Like it had looked on the hangar, it was pretty simple. The neckline cut straight on her chest; the straps were thinner than any tank top she had ever worn, but didn't reveal anything more than her shoulders and upper-back unlike the black.

She smoothed it down. They got enough vanity from the children of Venus, but Daria looked pretty good if she did say so. Elegant, almost. Definitely older.