Chapter Three

"This dress cost three thousand dollars," bragged Yara. "And these shoes, they are to die for!"

"Well, MY DRESS was three thousand and ninety dollars," retorted Rima with a smirk. "Plus, my tiara was over five hundred dollars."

My skin prickled. Whenever my cousins fought over who was prettier, who had more clothes, or who had the more expensive shoes, my stomach twisted into knots. Some of the children who lived on the outskirts of the city I grew up in didn't even have running water, let alone a dress which cost more money then their parent's annual income.

"Amira, come put my hair in rollers!" demanded Yara.

Rima huffed, "I'm first!"

"Now, girls," said Aunt Fatima. "Amira has plenty of time to help both of you with your hair."

I grabbed the hot rollers and began to twist and roll Yara's hair. I didn't understand why I had been told to do their hair tonight when they would be getting it done for the ball tomorrow, but I learned it was best not to voice my opinion on such topics.

"Now, tomorrow you will both skip school," Aunt Fatima told Yara and Rima. "We have appointments to get our nails done at noon. Lunch will be delivered at two and then I have a surprise for my girls." She smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"What? What else did you buy us?" squealed Rima.

"Well..." said Aunt Fatima.

"Tell us!" interrupted Yara. "Tell us now!"

"I have hired THE Julius Michael to do your hair!"

Rima popped up from her chair and screamed in excitement.

"No, no, no! This isn't possible!" shouted Yara. "He does Jenny McCarthy's hair!"

"Yes, yes he does," said Aunt Fatima with a smile.

Yara and Rima ran to Aunt Fatima and wrapped their arms around her.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" they screeched.

Aunt Fatima grinned. "He is going to bring someone to do your make up as well."

Rima stood on her toes and twirled around. "I'm going to be the most beautiful girl at the ball!"

"NO! I'm going to be he most beautiful girl at the ball!" shouted Yara.

As Rima lunged toward Yara, I cleared my throat. "Would it be possible to borrow a pair of shoes from either of you?"

They both stopped dead in their tracks and burst into laughter.

"What?"

"You aren't really going to the ball tomorrow," Rima giggled.

"There's really no point! The Ambassador's son will never choose you!" added Yara in between fits of laughter.

"Now, now, girls," scolded Aunt Fatima with a smile. "One of you must have an old pair of shoes she can borrow."

Yara snickered and ran out of the room. A moment later she reappeared. "Here you go," she said tossing a pair of black strappy sandals. "Careful with the heel."

I tested the heel with my hand. It wiggled. That's not good. Maybe I can fix it with hot glue?

Rima crossed her arms. "Is she really going to come to the ball with us? I don't want to ride in a limo with her."

Aunt Fatima clucked her tongue warning Rima to stop talking. "If Amira gets all of her chores done tomorrow, I told her she could join us at the ball."

Yara stuck out her lower lip and pouted.

Rima quickly followed suit.

"Amira, finish their hair. It's important my girls get to bed early. Tomorrow one of them will be selected by the Ambassador's son and our lives will change forever."

***

Two hours after finishing with the rollers and applying green goopy facemasks, I made my way down the stairs and to my bed. Even though I was exhausted, I couldn't contain my excitement. I reached down and carefully picked up a light pink dress with silver accents.

Last Friday, after Aunt Fatima first mentioned the ball, I had rooted through the basement until I found two dresses balled up in the corner. Every night since then, I had cut, sewn, and hemmed until I created the perfect gown.

A series of small squeaks brought a smile to my face. "Zada, have you come for your dinner?" I gently stroked Zada's head.

The tiny mouse squeaked and sniffed the air.

"Where are Iman and Sahir?" I asked with a grin. "I bet they're hungry too."

I felt something scamper across my bare feet.

"There you are," I cooed as I picked up Iman. "Let's get you your dinner, shall we?"

The three mice squeaked as I set Iman down and picked up a plastic container with breadcrumbs and several cubes of cheese.

"There you are, friends," I said as I set the food down on a plastic placemat near the foot of my bed. I giggled as they rushed to the food and began to chow down.

"Don't forget to get a drink," I reminded them setting down a small plate with water.

"How do you think I should do my hair for tomorrow?" I asked the mice.

Sahir looked up and gave me an inquisitive look.

"Aunt Fatima said she spent all of her money on Yara and Rima. She said I'll have to do my own hair," I explained.

Sahir squeaked.

"Don't worry, Sahir. I'll be able to do my own hair. I just can't decide if I want it up or down?"

I walked over to a small mirror on my dresser. Holding it up in one hand, I swept my hair up into a bun. "Like this?" I asked the Zada, Iman, and Sahir. "Or this?" I let it fall loosely to my shoulders.

Squeak, squeak, squeak.

"Up?"

Zada nodded her head. Iman and Sahir joined in.

"Or down?"

The mice shook their little heads.

I let out a quiet laugh. "Okay, up it is!"

As Zada, Iman, and Sahir finished their dinner, I put the final touches on the dress and hung it up on a metal bar I had rigged up for a makeshift closet.

"Tomorrow is going to be magical," I whispered to my little furry friends. "Completely magical."

**********

Thank you so much for reading Chapter Three of Amira and the Red Bottom Shoes! I hope you enjoyed it! :)

I'm curious, do you think Amira will be allowed to go to the ball?

Hearts,

Kelly Anne Blount xoxo

P.S. All comments and votes are always appreciated!