cutting_edgex23 | Mission: Prom Dress

Mission: Prom Dress

It's a sunny day, on the warmer side of cool, and the streets are full of people. X -- after discussing strategy with her neighbors and a few of her more adventurous teammates (the Stepford Cuckoos know a lot about clothing, for obvious reasons) -- leads the way toward Embarcadero Center.

They can get lunch before or after finding a dress. And shoes.

X has been told purses are important, too. And jewelry. She is not sure she believes this.

But maybe Parker and Meg will have ideas about that, too.

She can hope. It will probably not be in vain.

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"He could cut through the skirt," X offers. Helpfully.

Um.

"Or, I could just go change back into . . . excuse me," Meg says, and vanishes back into the dressing room.

There's a moment, and some muttering, and eventually she re-emerges, with the not-cut-up dress over her arm.

"So . . . we're good?"

"I think so."

Parker hangs the Pink Poof on a rolling cloths rack with other rejected garments.

"Laura?" she asks, nodding at the purple dress over her friend's arm. Laura had been changing out while Meg had been changing in. "Is this the one you're going with? Or did you want to shop around some more?"

"I like it," X says.

Firmly.

And if taking this one also means she does not have to try on more dresses --

Well. It is good she likes it.

"I am done."

Bike shorts she has at home. And as for appropriate footwear --

X has her own ideas about that.

"I think it's gorgeous.

"And I think after you buy it, we should break for lunch, before we tackle accessories."

There's much much more to it than just footwear, Laura.

"It's a great choice," Parker agrees.

"And I think food is a good idea. Maybe coffee, too?"

There's a lot still to do. Shoes, jewelry, make-up. Being a girl is not for wimps.

X's blank expression is a half-way decent cover for her epic confusion.

Mostly.

"Food is okay. And coffee. If you want."

Beat.

"Gloves are useful."

It's a concession, but not much of one. She'll end up making more later. Parker and Meg are persuasive.

At least the walk to the food court isn't very long.

Don't worry, Laura. You're in good hands.

Meg looks around the food court.

"Okay, so a lot of places I've never heard of. What's good?"

"Looks like pretty standard fare," Parker says, glancing around the food court.

"Pizza. Chinese food. Tex Mex. Burgers. Sandwiches. Wraps. I could go for a wrap. And a tall dark something from Starbucks. Why don't we stake out one of the booths. We can take turns guarding the dress."

X hesitates fractionally, gaze flicking around the food court, checking the exits, entrances, and places for people to hide.

Then --

"Wraps are okay. For me."

She flicks a look at Parker, just a little hesitantly.

"You could bring one back?"

X has money. And absolutely no discrimination when it comes to food.

Parker catches the glance. But doesn't comment on it.

Checking out this stuff? That's just who Laura is. No need to call attention to it.

"Sure. I can see a Tuscan Chicken special from here that looks good, if that works."

"Go ahead and grab a table. We'll bring the stuff back."

Meg follows Parker across the food court, and (feeling slightly overwhelmed herself) orders the same thing.

(It's easy, and it means there won't have to be any sorting out of whose food is whose when they get the tray back to the table.)

Meg finds Starbucks a little overwhelming.

And what happened to plain old "medium," anyway?

Parker grins at Meg as they weave their way back to the booth with their trays.

"You look a little shell shocked," she says.

Parker sets her tray down and slides into the booth.

"Okay. We have wraps, fries, and drinks. I got you unsweetened iced tea, Laura. I hope that's okay. I know you don't like sweet stuff--I didn't know if you drink soda or not."

"Thank you," X says, reaching for the indicated food and iced tea.

"It is better without sugar."

Her gaze flicks up as a small, rowdy crowd of boys makes their way past, trays laden with pizza and hamburgers.

This may prove to be a mistake.

It may. There's some nudging and nodding among the guys, and then the four of them double back to sit at the table next to the girls'.

"Hey," one of them says.

Meg nods slightly, and tries to focus on her sandwich.

"I'm Mike. This is Steve, Clark, and Justin."

"Haven't seen any of you around before," Justin, or possibly Clark, says.

"We'd remember," Steve says.

The thing about embarking on a group mission is that it's important to know the others' strengths, and allow them to play to them.

Which is why the look Parker has just gotten from Meg probably means, This is all yours.

The Fab Four look like they're a little closer in age to Meg and Laura than to Parker. Incoming-freshman-age. Odd how much older Parker feels.

Of course, they're guys. That has a lot to do with it.

"Oh, I'm sure you've seen us before," Parker says complacently, taking a sip of her coffee.

"But then there's the whole mind-wipe factor. If you remembered us, we'd have to kill you."

She's not going to be outright mean. (Yet. Without provocation.) But this is a girls' day out.

"Well, I'm sure we can get to know each other again. Right?"

One of them -- the one called Clark -- grins.

"I mean, it can't be that hard."

X puts down her wrap, head tilting slightly as she looks up at the intruders.

"You do not want to."

Beat.

"Do not be stupid."

"Did you just call us stupid? Mike, I think she just called us stupid."

Okay, this is rapidly degenerating.

"Look, we're not interested in . . ." Meg trails off. "We just want to eat out lunch, please."

"We're not stopping you. We just want to join you."

"You shouldn't have to eat alone, right?"

Parker would have cut them some slack if they had taken the hint and backed off.

She would have concluded that they were, in fact, alien beings masquerading as teen boys, but it would have been a lot more pleasant.

Parker puts down her coffee and turns in her seat, the better to face them squarely.

"Look, boys," she says, with heavy emphasis on the second word.

"We don't want you to join us. We aren't interested. You really don't want to get tossed out of here on your asses by a mall rent-a-cop, so go clog your arteries and leave us alone. Okay?"

The one called Steve, who Parker thinks is the least bright in this pack of dull crayons, narrows his eyes.

"Jeez. Any reason you're such a bitch?"

"Because you are being a jerk," X says, delivery flat and precise.

"And we do not want to talk to you."

Her expression is completely blank, even while she's studying them.

"It is better not to be stubborn. For you."

Steve opens his mouth again, but Justin snorts, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever. Your loss."

Edited 2009-05-12 03:49 (UTC)

Parker has never thought to ask of Laura has any telepathic abilities.

Well, not like a mental No claws, no claws, no claws warning will hurt either way.

Fortunately, it looks like the the battlefield is being ceded to the girls.

"Whatever helps you sleep through the night," she says with a wave, and pointedly turns her back.

X just keeps staring at them.

"Oh baby, you have no idea what you're missing."

It's a weak effort, and they know it. Everyone knows it.

Which means it doesn't take long before Justin's dragging Steve away, with Clark following fast at his heels.

X keeps watching them for a minute or two, then refocuses her attention on her food and starts eating.

People are stupid. Sometimes. It is annoying.

"Well, that was . . ."

Meg rolls her eyes.

"Boys."

Parker shakes her head.

"Can't live with them. Can't carry on the species without them."

She glances after the retreating posse.

"Though hopefully none of them are going to be contributing to the gene pool any time soon."

Parker grins wryly at her companions.

"Well. That was exciting. In a really really annoying sort of way."

"I do not think they can get dates," X offers, looking up from her wrap.

"That is what Cessily says sometimes."

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