If looks could kill, she’d be dead and buried … right now – under this very spot … and guilty of her own murder.
Chauncy snickered at the irony reflecting back into her eyes as she sat on the bench waiting … I wouldn’t mind really … being dead and buried. Why do these places always have 3-way mirrors anyway? Mirrors are just plain evil!
She turned away from the image she wished would just disappear and yelled to her friends, “You guys done yet?”
“Hold on Chaunc. Almost done – some of this stuff didn’t fit.”
Yeah, well … I wouldn’t mind something not fitting if I were a size six.
“Chauncy, I need you to tell me if these go together.” squeaked another friend from behind the dressing room door.
Sure, okay. How do I always get stuck doing this? I HATE looking for clothes.
Both friends converged from the rooms playfully pushing each other out of the way each vying for the mirror, “Mirror hog! Move!”
Chauncy shriveled at the thought other people would look their way. “Come on guys, can we finally get going? The movie’s goin to start soon – come on, who needs one more pair of jeans anyway?”
The two friends stopped the ruckus and focused on their best friend cringing before them; then they looked at each other and smiled. A secret kind of smile that warned Chauncy something was up – her heart was just beginning to …
“In my dressing room is a pair of jeans and a shirt for you to try on.”
“I saw you lookin at em and snuck em in with my stuff.”
“No buts – get in there and try em on.”
Chauncy looked up at her friends whose arms were linked and crossed, and saw they weren’t going to budge. How am I gettin out of this? There’s no way I’m tryin anything on! “You guys are nuts – no way.”
An impasse hung heavy between them.
Then one friend pointedly looked at her humungous Flower Power watch.
Chauncy wasn’t having any of it, “Oh, THAT’LL get me moving – I said I’m not tryin anything on!”
Three big sighs – in unison – but with one big difference. Chauncy wasn’t phased at all by what her friends had staged – she wasn’t going in there. But her friends … well … she saw something in their eyes – and it hurt.
“Guys … look … I can’t … I don’t want …”
Eyes of hope stabbed her heart when it was her own eyes wanting to stab her dead and gone just moments ago. She caught a side glimpse of her body. Her reflection hadn’t changed … but what she had never taken the time to notice was her reflection in the eyes of her best friends.
She looked away once again, uncertain … torn and quiet. “I’m not comin out.” she softly mumbled.
Eyes of hope leaped with excitement – so did linked arms and happy feet.
Chauncy wavered, “You guys promise not to pull any tricks? No pulling me out here or anything?”
“Promise! BUT …”
Oh no … that’s it – I’m not doin this. The groan that escaped from the deepest part of her misgivings had no effect on her friends.
“You gotta open the door … at least – please! And that color is gonna look fabulous on you, and those long legs are gonna look awesome in those jeans. And those low sandals of yours in your closet are gonna go perfect … and you know those dangling earrings of mine you like? Well, they don’t look right on me – too long – they’re just right for you. Hey! Let’s do make up later … and … and…”
Chauncy resigned herself to the chatter of her friends as she got up from the bench.
At least for now… a size 16 never fit so good.
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