My Champagne Problems

22: Ayala

'Fears makes people do stupid things'

"Mercy how many more?" I whine but am ignored by her as she drags us through yet another aisle of clothes.

We have been here for a good hour now, my legs hurt and my social anxiety isn't helping me either. But for the sake of my friend finding her 'perfect dress' I put up with it.

"As many as takes to find 'the one'," she huffs, pushing aside a few dresses hanging on the rack and skimming through the rest.

"It's Homecoming, not your wedding," I roll my eyes. She scoffs.

"You wouldn't understand," she shakes her head before pulling out a floor-length navy blue dress.

I raise my brow at her. "It's a semi-formal event," I remark motioning to her clearly formal choice of attire.

"Right," she groans. "Let's go check there," she says putting the dress back and dragging me all the way across to the other end of the store. I sigh.

"Why aren't you excited?" She grumbles at my lack of enthusiasm. I shrug, she knows why.

"I know you don't like social events, but at least try to be a little more enthusiastic about this since you're going anyway. Do it for me if not anything else," she adds giving me those puppy dog eyes that seem to get her, her way every time. I sigh.

"Fine," I roll my eyes and help her snift through the racks of dresses. "How about these?" I ask grabbing ahold of the first two dresses that catch my eye and holding it out for her.

The first being a black backless dress, that would probably end about 2-inches from my knees. It's simple, just the way I want it to be. The other dress is a velvet purple off-the-shoulder dress with long sleeves and is about the same length as the previous one.

"How come you find the perfect dresses within minutes of looking and I spend hours not finding a single potential contender?" She whines while eyeing the purple dress longingly.

I smile at her handing her the purple dress without a second thought. "Don't you want to at least try it on first?" She asks but reluctantly takes the dress anyway.

"It suits you better anyway," I shrug. She squeals loudly at this pulling me in for a brief hug while earning an annoyed glare from the other customers nearby.

"You're the best," she proclaims--ignoring the glare we're receiving--moseying ours to the changing rooms.

"You girls find any dresses yet?" Mum asks averting her attention from her phone as we approach her. I nod holding up my dress and Mercy does the same.

"What are you waiting for then? Go try them on!" Mercy's mum ushers us towards the changing room that to our surprise isn't crowded, letting us find two empty stalls rather quickly.

We exit the stalls simultaneously and give each other a one-over, nodding in approval before we head to show our mums.

"You look completely badass in that," Mercy winks at me, and I smile at the compliment.

"Do I even need to say you look absolutely stunning?" I ask rhetorically. "You always do," I add, earning a playful eye roll from her.

"How do we look?" Mercy asks loudly as soon as within the visual range of our mothers.

"Gorgeous." Both reply in unison, causing Mercy to blush lightly and I smile.

"Although," mum interrupts. "Just hear me out," she adds in her defense when I give her a tired knowing look.