Most of Emma’s clothes were on the bed and a whole bag of Elle’s clothes were scattered over the floor. The girls were furiously trying things on, taking things off, trying them on again. ‘There are some cool things here!’ cried Elle. ‘We can swap things around, and then you do your thing and we’ll look awesome!’ ‘Really? You think so, Elles?’ asked Emma, who wasn’t so sure. ‘But Nema will make a point of telling everyone that they’re not new.’ ‘Maybe, but you don’t normally worry about what Nema says.’ ‘I know but now there’s Laila too. It’s like having two Nemas! And maybe they’re right and we’re wrong. Maybe my outfits are weird. Maybe we’ll look silly and just embarrass ourselves in front of everyone—again.’ Then the bedroom door opened and Emma’s mum poked her head around the door. ‘Having fun, girls?’ she asked. ‘Sort of,’ said Emma. ‘Mum, are you really sure that I can’t have a new dress for the dance party?’ ‘Yes, Emma, I am really, completely sure,’ replied her mum in a voice Emma knew not to argue with.
