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else.”
    “Maybe so, but those pants he puts on look
soooo
good,” I cooed as I thought of him. “And he’s not like you. He’s popular, remember?”
    “Thanks for the reminder,” Phin answered sarcastically.
    “You know what I mean,” I answered, going back to pacing around in front of my closet.
    McCartney got off the bed and placed her hands on my shoulders forcefully. Girl was strong. “You go get in the shower and we’ll find you an outfit,” she said, pushing me toward the bathroom.
    “Shower,” I said slowly. “Right. Probably a good idea.”
    “Showering is definitely a good idea,” Phin said, waving his hand in front of his face. “You don’t want him smelling the
real
you.”
    I glared at him before disappearing into my bathroom.
    Once the door was locked behind me, I turned the knob on the tub and watched as steam filled the room around me. I waited until I could no longer see my outstretched hand and then stepped under the hot stream. I let my thoughts slipaway and concentrated on the steady thumping of water as it massaged my head. Before long, my nerves were nearly gone and I’d almost forgotten about my date.
    Almost.
    Eventually, I emerged from the room smelling considerably better than I had going in. Even girlie-like.
    “Put these on.” McCartney handed me a jean skirt and a shimmery black top that I didn’t recognize.
    “Where’d this come from?” I asked, eyeing the top.
    “I figured you might need something a little un-Arielle,” McCartney said, shrugging. “So, I brought it from home.”
    “Thank you?” I said, not sure whether my wardrobe had just been insulted or not. “Phin, can you turn around?”
    “Not a problem,” Phin said, holding up his hands and turning to face the wall.
    I let my towel drop to the ground and stepped into the skirt after I threw the top over my head.
    “I’m dressed now,” I said to Phin and then modeled the outfit for them. “So?”
    “Hello, Megan Fox-y!” McCartney said, nodding approvingly. “I knew you had it in you!”
    “I don’t know,” I said checking myself out in the mirror. I wrinkled my nose and chewed on my lip thoughtfully. “You don’t think there’s too much cleavage?”
    I pulled the top up a bit and then watched as it fell back down to its original place, exposing some of my nearly-flat chest.
    “Um. As a guy, I can safely say there’s no such thing as too much cleavage,” Phin said. “Not that I want to see yours or anything.”
    “Good to know,” I said and examined myself again. “Okay, so I’ve got the outfit, now I just need to do my hair and makeup.
    “Already on it,” McCartney said, holding up a hairdryer.
    Thirty minutes later, my hair was blown out, my makeup was done and I was officially ready for my date. My stomach, however, wasn’t quite as excited about the outing as my mind was.
    “You guys, I feel sort of nauseous,” I said, lying facedown on my bed. “I don’t think I can go through with this.”
    “You’re just nervous,” McCartney said. “Once you guys start talking, you’ll feel better.”
    “Yeah, Arielle, buck up,” Phin said. “Stop being such a chick.”
    “Hello? In case you hadn’t noticed, I
am
a chick,” I said, standing up and placing my hands on my hips. “And I happen to recall a certain incident at school when you up-chucked while talking to Cindy Rossum, so don’t even talk to me about ‘bucking up.’ ”
    “Dude, that was in fifth grade and I told you, I had the flu,” Phin said, frowning.
    “Yeah, the
crush
flu,” McCartney said, smirking.
    “You’re such a brat,” Phin retorted.
    “At least I’m not a huge dork who pukes on girls,” she responded in a sing-song voice. “Tell me, did the creators of ‘South Park’ base stan after you? Or is that just a rumor?”
    Before anyone could come to blows, the familiar chime of my doorbell rang and we all jumped up quickly.
    “I’ve never been so happy to be saved by the bell before,” I