Ariel gasped, staring at me in the restroom after school on Thursday. We were both getting ready for the auditions. And by getting ready, I mean changing our clothes and trying not to throw up from nerves. “Thanks,” I said, sticking another hairpin into my crazy, retro hairdo. “I’m serious, where did you get that dress? It’s, like, perfect!” I had just changed out of my Guess jeans and tan cashmere cowl-neck sweater into a slinky burgundy red vintage satin cocktail dress I’d bought at a thrift store. The dress was a little dingy, especially around the neckline, so I’d sewn on some dark burgundy lace and sequins along the seam lines to jazz it up. I added a sequin gardenia to the front left side of the skirt, too. The dress was slit up one side, exposing lots of leg, and I was wearing fishnets with a pair of vintage spiky black patent leather heels that my mom got from her mom, who was a shoe fanatic and bought lots of shoes she only wore once or twice, so they were still in great shape.
