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tired of vampire teeth and zombie stuff,” she says
as she backs out of the parking spot.
    “I thought you looked awesome last year. You
had that dead look down!” I say.
    “I know, I was pretty hot as a zombie babe,
huh? But different is what I’m going for this year. This party’s
going to be epic, don’t you think? Drew says they rented out that
whole floor, and that anybody who is anybody is going to be
there.”
    “Then why are we going? We’re the biggest
nobodies I know,” I reply with an eye roll.
    “They won’t know that since we’ll be in
costume. They’ll believe we’re famous,” Julie argues with a
grin.
    Now don’t get me wrong, I am excited about
going to the party. I guess I just have reservations about feeling
out of place. I don’t like feeling insecure, and since my life’s
upheaval in September, that feeling has crept up on me more than I
would like.
    “We’re here!” Julie’s excited voice
interrupts my musings as we pull in front of the biggest costume
shop in the city, aptly named “Biggest Costume Shop in the City.”
So unique, huh?
    The store is like a decorated two-story
haunted house with racks of clothing separated into sections. They
have a werewolf section guarded by the biggest stuffed werewolf
I’ve ever seen. I swear it’s more than fifteen feet tall. Then
there’s the vampire section with—yes, you guessed it—a fifteen-foot
bat. You thought I was going to say vampire, but no, it’s a
humongous, jet-black bat with glowing red eyes. Creepsville, for
sure.
    I already know what section I’m heading for,
so I leave Julie pondering while I enter the Victorian section. I
know. Lame. But I feel like I belong back in that era. My mom says
I must have lived there in a previous life. Anyway, here I am,
surrounded by long, flowing dresses and low-cut bodices that would
make any woman feel feminine. I spot a light lavender dress with
fake pearls patterned on the bodice and make a beeline for it,
praying it’s my size.
    “May I help you?” A voice stops me in my
pursuit and I turn to find a small, even-shorter-than-me female
dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, basket and all.
    “Yes, this dress.” I move forward and place
my hand on it.
    “Beautiful, isn’t it? We just put it out
yesterday. It comes with a mask. Let’s see what size it is.”
    I cross my fingers. Spying the tag she pulls
out from the sleeve, I know it’s too big.
    “I venture to say this is tooooooo big for
you,” she says in a singsong voice. I guess she’s getting into
character.
    “Damn. I mean, crap, it’s the one I
want.”
    “Don’t worry. I’ll check in the back. We have
a couple more sizes in this one.” She takes off and disappears
behind a partition in the section after I tell her my dress
size.
    Looking around, I see an elaborately dressed
footman, like you see in Cinderella stories, guarding this section.
He’s standing on a pedestal and looks to be about six feet tall and
very lifelike.
    “Good afternoon, madam,” the footman says,
making me jump.
    “God, you almost gave me a heart attack,” I
say a little more loudly than I should have. But damn, he almost
scared the pee out of me.
    “I beg your pardon. I did not mean to startle
you.” His tone is very solemn, but the gleam in his eye gives away
his lie.
    “Guess what? We have it in your size. If you
follow me, you can try it on back here.” Red is back and takes one
look at my face, which must be pale, because she goes up to the
footman and smacks him on the leg. “You creep. Get down from there.
Next time you’ll scare the wrong person and be in big trouble.”
    “Geez, Red. I was just shaking things up a
little. I’m tired of walking the floor. She looks too young to have
a heart attack. I do pick my victims well.” The handsome, even with
the white wig, footman gracefully jumps down and bows low to both
of us.
    “Ignore him and follow me.” Red takes my arm
and guides me to a bank of dressing rooms behind an