This Is a Dream

"Hazel, I don't have anything to wear." I am still attempting to talk my way out of this party. It is in four hours and so far I have gotten know where. Hazel is still super excited that I'm coming and I would rather shoot myself in the spleen with a paintball gun then show up.

"You can borrow something of mine, I have loads of stuff at my house. Something is bound to fit you. So what do you think about funky pineapple?" She asks, and I can only imagine what she is planning on painting with that funky, pun intended, color. Her room, a car, her hair? With Hazel it's always a mystery.

"It sounds um, funky." I say, stumped.

"Yeah your right, doesn't sound like nail polish at all. How about rosy red? It's gorgeous." Hazel, ever quick to make something last years news.

"Oh thank you, I thought you were thinking of doing highlights in that color. I thought I was going to have to put a paper bag over your head for the next couple of weeks until we could get them changed back." I hear her laugh loudly over the phone and I smile and pick up a container of my own collection of nail polish and hold up a dark purple.

"So you do have a sense of humor, I thought you lost it somewhere along the way." I laugh again.

"Oh about the clothes, your like two feet shorter then me, how am I going to fit into your clothes without looking like a complete hoochie mama?" I say choosing a color that's safe just in case she stuffs me into a ridiculously colored dress.

"If you promise to never say that again I'll lend you some of my sister's things. She's at college and she's about your size, it's perfect. And Ty will love you in it."

Somehow it seems like there is no possible way that she is going to let me out of this party, Wait, party? I mean record the date so that you can put it on my gravestone under the title, died this day.
--

"You look gorgeous! Turn." Hazel commands with a mascara wand clamped in her hand and dangerously close to my left eyeball.

Hazel had fit me into one of her sister's old dresses that she had never worn. Apparently she was an intern at this huge magazine and she got to take a ton of clothes from the props when she was done for the summer. I am totally thanking this chick whenever I meet her because her clothing fits perfectly, even her shoes which are adorable.

The dress is a very light, purplish, brown that has little straps, a short hemline, ruffles, and a cute little bow to tie it off. I even opted for Hazel's sisters gladiator high heels. I'm not that great walking in them but to wear these shoes it is so worth it.

"Your sister is amazing, seriously I love her." I admit, trying to not move my heady as Hazel loosely curled my hair. If Hazel ever gave up dancing I'm not even kidding she could do the shows on television where someone totally makes someone over, that's exactly what Hazel did.

My normally thin, long hair is curled loosely, my legs look long and willowy in the dress that she picked out, and my accessories are there but not so there that they're obnoxious.

"Hazel, you're a genius. Thank you so so so much!" I exclaim throwing my arms around her. It's not like I want to go to the party now or anything, but it's nice to have someone else do your make up and hair and pick out everything you are going to wear every once in a while.

"So does that mean you'll actually act like you want to be there? Not be like a stick in the mud or anything?" She asks playfully, curling her own hair. I would offer to do it but I would probably turn her ear into a piece of charcoal or something else equally as burned.

"You look gorgeous, Hazel." I compliment her later as we exit her bedroom after fixing up her makeup job. Her room is cute and modest, with a twin bed, a large vanity, a small walk in closet, and other cute things. It fits her personality, bubbly and open.

"As do you." She says, sliding an opened water over to me. The party has been going on for an hour and a half, my hair is coming undone, and no sign of Ty. Although, Hazel does have a good choice in guys. So far she has danced with a few that she has introduced me to but I haven't got the guts to venture more than five feet from the couch that I have been cowering on since the party started.

"Dance?" I hear someone from behind me, someone who has to yell to be heard over a new song of Lady Gaga's. I wave my water bottle at them without turning around.

"Sorry to trashed to dance." I reply loudly, faking a slight slur.

"Are you sure, I hear you're a great dancer." He shouts.

"I'll kill her," I mumble and feel the couch shift as someone sits down next to me.

"By the way I know that that's just water and it's the strongest thing that you have had tonight." Ty says, leaning close so I can understand him.

"How would you know it's not a special mix that I made myself?" I ask, even though I'm lying through my teeth.

He throws his head back and laughs, "Because I've been keeping an eye on you. Making sure that the guys here don't try and take advantage of you."

I blink, "That's either the sweetest or the creepiest thing I have heard in a long time." I reply.

"You look nice," he says after thinking for a couple of seconds. "I like that dress."

"Thanks, so do you." And this time I'm not lying. He's gorgeous in his dark blue polo and light jeans, simple but adorable. "And it's Hazel's sister's, she's lending it to me. Well, actually she doesn't know she's lending it me but Hazel said she wouldn't care." I say.

"You know what I heard?" he asked, leaning close again.

"What?"

"That the last time someone borrowed something from her sister without telling her, she crept into her room in the middle of the night and tore up every single bit of clothing she owned." He said in a loud whisper.

"You're kidding me." I screech, mentally trying to figure out where I had seen Hazel last.

"Wow, your gullible. Hey, if I told you gullible was written on the ceiling would you look up?" He asks, laughing.

"I'm not gullible," I scoff, but I fight the urge to look up.

"I'm kidding. But seriously, do you want to dance?" He asks, setting his drink down. I take note that it's also a bottled water but decide not to say anything.

"Um, don't you remember? I'm a ballerina, I don't know how to dance like anything else." I say, but not uncomfortably. I've been a ballerina for a long time so it's not like Ty's the first one to ask why I can't dance any other way.

"It's because our teacher doesn't want us to learn another rhythm and get thrown off beat." I say before he can ask. "She's kind of strict."

He looks thoughtful for a second and then looks back at me, "Well I think that's about the dumbest thing that I have ever heard. How does she expect you to get better if you can't find out all of the different kinds of dances out there?"

I shake my head, "Look, I'm really not comfortable dancing. Next time?" I ask hopeful that he will let the subject drop.

"Sure, but you promised." He says holding out his right pinky.

I hook mine around his and shake, "promise." I say solemnly.