***
Clara was determined to go alone. Her mother pleaded over and over, but Clara was unrelenting. She thought Ellen hadn’t earned it—the privilege of spending time with her—and she wanted to punish her mother, believing she could hurt Ellen even more than when she said she hated her. And she was right. She heard Ellen crying that night in her room after Clara told her for the final time that she couldn’t go.
She watched the women talk behind the counter. They were speaking in low voices, trading jokes about their husbands and giggling softly. She wanted to approach them but was scared. She didn’t understand why she was scared. All she was doing was shopping for a dress.
“Can I help you?” she heard from behind her. She spun around and was greeted by a tall, slender woman. The woman looked nice enough—she smiled sweetly at Clara—and Clara relaxed a bit.
“Well, I’ve been asked to the prom,” Clara said. There was a note of uncertainty in her voice like she didn’t believe it. “His name is Evan.” She felt the need to say his name out loud. If she said his name out loud, it made it true.
The tall lady smiled. “Well, I think that’s wonderful.”
Clara smiled nervously. “I’ve never been to a prom before. I’ve never dressed up.”
“It’s no problem at all,” the woman said reassuringly. “We’ll get you all fixed up. Come with me.”
Clara hesitated for only a moment before following the woman to the back of the store. She was led to a section of racks with an assortment of evening dresses of all shapes, sizes, and colors. She watched as the woman hunted through the dresses, pulling out several and handing them to her.
“I’m Jesse, by the way,” the woman said.
“Nice to meet you,” Clara replied. “I’m Clara.”
“What a pretty name. You don’t hear that name too often,” Jesse responded as she continued her search through the racks. She pulled out several more dresses and threw them over the arms of a nearby club chair.
“My grandmother’s,” Clara explained.
“Well, it’s really pretty,” Jesse said. She stopped hunting and looked down at her client. “Do you like any of these?”
“I do,” Clara replied, feeling overwhelmed. “Do I try on all of them?”
Jesse smiled. “Well, isn’t that the fun part?”
Clara shrugged.
Jesse stood considering her for a moment. “Are you a senior?”
“No, a junior,” Clara said. “The boy who’s taking me is a senior.”
Jesse smirked. “Are you nervous about it?”
Clara nodded. She hung her face to hide her flushed cheeks. They burned with embarrassment. “I still don’t know why he’s dating me,” she said softly.
“I do,” Jesse said.
Clara looked up then and furrowed her brow.
“I know exactly what you need,” Jesse said. “Wait here.”
She hurried off as Clara stood holding the dresses. She felt awkward and out of place among the beautiful satin and chiffon fabrics and designer brands. She told herself not to look, but her eyes were already roving over her outfit: jeans that were slightly too short and a T-shirt that sported a few light stains. Thankfully the shirt was a dark gray, so the stains were almost imperceptible. She looked up and caught sight of herself in a mirror. She hadn’t noticed it was there. She bit her lip as she took an inventory of herself: uncertain hazel eyes, plump lips, long wavy brown hair that she used to shield her face in most of her classes. She wouldn’t have to look at her classmates, and they wouldn’t have to look at her.
The old insecurities were resurfacing, but then she remembered Evan’s sweet words to her, the way he held her hand walking down the hallway, the way he twisted his fingers in her hair when he kissed her hungrily. The way he told her time and again how beautiful she was. She told herself to snap out of it, to find a dress that would make her proud to be with him and one that would make him proud to have her on his arm.
Jesse returned holding a tray with two champagne flutes and a bottle of sparkling grape juice. Beside the bottle was a tin of chocolates wrapped in a red velvet ribbon.
“This is a celebration,” she said. “Your first prom.”
Jesse beckoned Clara to follow her to the dressing rooms. She placed the tray on a nearby table and popped the cork of the bottle. It flew out and bounced off the opposite wall, the girls ducking to protect their faces. Jesse laughed and apologized. She poured the juice and handed a glass to Clara.
“Cheers!” she said tapping her glass with Clara’s.
Clara grinned and took a sip. She’d never tasted sparkling grape juice before, and the carbonation hit her nose hard making her eyes tear up involuntarily.
“Now, Clara,” Jesse said. “I’ve got to figure out what you like best. We’ll put the dresses in order that way. No sense in having you try on the dresses you like least first. Know what I mean?”
“Sure,” Clara said.
Jesse placed her glass on the table and started sorting through the dresses, asking Clara to rate them on a scale of one to ten. Once all of the dresses were sorted, Jesse shoved five in Clara’s hands and pushed her gently into a dressing room.
“I’ll help you zip up. Just get them on first,” she called to Clara.
Jesse chatted with Clara as she helped her try on dresses. They shared the chocolates—Clara careful to keep her fingers clean around the dresses—and Jesse finally made Clara laugh and open up a little bit about Evan. Jesse squealed like a teenage girl when Clara told her about the first time Evan talked to her in the cafeteria.