"Oh, I'm so excited," my mom squeals. Her fingers drum against the steering wheel in a rapid motion. "I just can't believe you actually got her to agree to go to prom. She hates school dances."

Amanda makes herself comfortable in the seat behind my mother, and blows at her nails. "My powers of persuasion are fabulous, I know," she says.

I roll my eyes toward the sky.

Kylie elbows Amanda, making the girl grunt. Amanda pouts and watches Kylie settle back against the seat next to her. Kylie's legs cross, and her gaze shifts toward the scenery that passes outside the van. Amanda's pout deepens.

I rest my cheek against my fist, elbow propped against the door beside me. "I'm not looking forward to this," I grumble.

"You'll learn to love it," my mom says, flashing me a smile. "Dress shopping was always my favorite part."

"But you didn't have a balloon for a stomach back then," I snap.

That makes her frown. Kylie leans forward in her seat, and her hand squeezes my shoulder. "Don't worry Alice. There are still dresses out there that will look great on you. And if you like one that doesn't, my mom can fix it."

I look out the window again. "Sure."

The van pulls into the parking lot that surrounds our local mall. The arrangement of close-knit buildings seem to tower in the distance, ominous and threatening. I grimace as we approach. The van turns into a parking spot near the entrance to JC Penny's and my mother silences the engine.

"Ready?" she asks.

I throw open the door and wiggle out. My stomach is a lot bigger now; I only have a couple more months to go before I pop. It's the most uncomfortable thing I've ever experienced.

Kylie is there immediately, a hand on my elbow to help me along. She walks me around the car to meet my mother and Amanda. The latter takes my other elbow, looping her arm though mine. My mother stumbles along behind us, snapping pictures.

"Would you stop?" I ask her, annoyed.

She beams at me. "You'll thank me some day," she says, and then rushes around to grab the door. I grumble under my breath and step inside the department store. A cold burst of air slams against me full force. I shudder and look around.

"Why did we have to come in through the lingerie side," I complain. My mood sours even more as I look at all the skinny, not-pregnant mannequins. Their plastic bodies are even smaller than Kylie's. I don't understand why department stores do this; they need more realistic mannequins. Especially in the underwear department. I mean, every female, despite her body shape, wears underwear... right?

Kylie and Amanda drag me through the main aisle, toward the vibrant junior's section. A huge, colorful sign directs us toward their massive collection of prom dresses. I take it in. Rack after rack, filled with all sorts of extravagant and flashy dresses. All so beautiful, and all meant for not-pregnant teenagers.

I'm so overwhelmed.

"I don't think I can do this," I mutter under my breath.

Kylie hears, and squeezes my arm. "It'll be fine, Alice. Just relax. There are plenty of dresses and different sizes to choose from."

"I don't even like dresses," I hiss at her.

Amanda wrinkles her nose. "I don't either." She reaches out toward a short teal colored dress with a tulle skirt. Her fingers fish out the price tag and turn it over. She exhales. "Whoa, three hundred dollars for this little thing? I don't think so."

Kylie rolls her eyes. "That's actually a steal, considering the designer." She points at a small seal imprinted in the tag. "Her dresses usually cost around four-fifty."

Amanda and I both grimace.

My mom claps her hands together. "Let's start looking," she says, smiling widely at me. "Just pick anything you want. Don't even worry about the prices, got it?"

My grimace deepens. "Mom..."

"I don't want to hear it," she says. She holds her palm up and shakes her head. "This is the last prom that you can go to, and it's such a special experience. I won't spare any expense."

I shake my head. We'd never been rich, and had always utalized each cent earned. I'm not used to spending so much money on clothes.

Kylie drags me toward a rack and starts to skim through the dresses. "I think this would look fabulous on you," she says, pulling a bright red dress from the rack. It had sequins trailing across one shoulder, down across the bodice. The skirt was loose and flared out at the hem.

"I'm not sure," I wince. My hand reaches out, fingers running across the sequins. The sequins looked like they would go right across my stomach.

"Do you want to try it on?"

I shake my head. I start to walk through the racks, pausing to glance at a dress here and there. I'm fond of dark colors, but light pinks have always sparked my interest too. I stop in front of a mint green colored dress. I pull it from the rack and glance it over.

It's got a lacy halter top and a flaring skirt. A thick band of fabric wraps around the torso, just beneath the bust. I like it, a lot.

Then my hand brushes my stomach, and I realize that it would probably look horrible on me. I put it back. Kylie walks over, a few dresses draped over her arm. "I like that one," she says.

"Do you want to try it on?" I ask, hesitating.

She shakes her head and frowns at me. "I think it would look gorgeous on you."

I shake my head. "No. It wouldn't look right with my stomach."

Her frown seems to deepen. I look around, confusion flooding through me. "Where's Amanda?"

"I think she went to look at the boy's section," Kylie answers with a roll of her eyes. "She told me she'd kill me if I tried to get her in a dress. I figure that whatever tux she tries to buy, I'll just ask my mother to spice it up."

I laugh.

Kylie grins and shakes her head. Then she pulls out another dress, this one soft white. It has a bejeweled top, complete with short sleeves and a round collar. The silver jewels end just above the waist, and a white skirt flows out from beneath it. "What do you think of this one?" she asks.

"I like it," I whiseper, starking at it.

She perks up. "Let's go try it on!"

I grimace. Kylie adds a few more dresses to the pile in her arms. Then she pauses in front of the small tiled aisle that separates the men and women's sections. "Amanda," she barks.

Amanda's head pops up from between the racks. "Yeah?"

"We're going to the dressing room. Come on."

Amanda beams and wades through the racks of clothing. My mom takes several more pictures as we enter the massive dressing room, much to my annoyance. She and Amanda wait in the small lounge area as Kylie pushes me into a wooden stall. "I'm not so sure about this," I mumble.

"I've practically seen you naked," she retorts. "You'll be fine."

I purse my lips. I hear Amanda scoff. "Jeesh, someone's a serious shopper."

"I was born to do this," Kylie retorts loudly. "Now hush."

I laugh, almost nervously. She instructs me to strip and starts to take the white dress off the hanger. I move slowly, wiggling out of my pants and my shirt. Once I'm free, she pulls the dress over my head.

It immediately gets stuck around my waist.

My heart breaks. A wave of tears form at the corners of my eyes. Kylie pulls at the skirt, yanking it down over my stomach, and then turns me around. "Don't," I say, waving my hand at her as she tries to zip me up. "It's not going to work. I'm only going to get bigger."

Kylie grimaces. "But Alice..."

"Help me take it off."

Reluctantly, Kylie gathers the hem in her hands. She pulls the dress over my head and returns it to the hanger. I wrap my arms around my stomach, self-concious. But before I can return to the safety of my clothes, she has another dress free from its hanger.

I shake my head. She gives me a sharp look. I unwillingly hold my hands into the air, and she pulls the dress down over my head. It's a strapless affair with an even more bejeweled bodice, colored bright red.

"The jewels help hide your stomach," Kylie says as she spins me around, zipping the back up. This dress was a little larger, so it actualy zips. Then she turns me toward the mirror. "Check yourself out, gorgeous!"

My hand flies to my mouth. I stare at my reflection, trying hard not to look completely horrified. From the front, the dress doesn't look half bad. It's kind of taunt around my stomach but, like Kylie said, the jewels distracted your eye from the buldge. But the second I turn slightly...

I look like a pig stuffed into tiny tube dress.

Kylie smiles, obvously misinterpreting my half-hidden expression. "You like it?"

"No." My voice barely manages a hoarse whisper. I shake my head, not trusting myself to talk anymore.

Her smile disappears.

"Come on!" I hear my mother urge. "Let us see!"

Kylie's brow furrows. She glances at me, waiting for my reaction. I shake my head, harder, more desperate this time. I don't want anybody to see me like this.

My mom rattles the door. "Please let me see! I want to see my baby in a dress."

Amanda joins in. "Yeah! We haven't gotten to see anything yet. Don't make me come in there!"

"Maybe you'll like it more after you've heard their opinions too," Kylie suggests softly. Her hand rests atop the door handle. "Do you want to give it a try?"

I really didn't.

I blink back tears and Kylie opens the door. My mom stands in front of it, and her hand flies to her mouth. She blinks back tears too, only hers are happy.

"Oh," she gasps. "Oh, Alice, you look so lovely." She lifts her camera to snap a photo.

I shake my head. I look back at the mirror and stare at my reflection. My insides fill with dread. "I look like a cow wrapped in a blanket." My voice cracks.

Kylie reaches out, a hand on my shoulder. My mother lowers her camera and steps forward, her expression twisting with concern. Even Amanda stands. The tears push past my defenses and trickle down my cheeks. I wipe at them and push past my mother and Amanda, rushing out into the department store. I blindly work my way through it until I realize I'm lost.

Then I find a darkened corner, where no one will really spot me, and plop down onto the ground, resting my back against the wall. Pain bristles through me. Well, not pain really, as it's more a slight discomfort. Pressure pushes against my insides and the weight of my stomach bears down on me. I pull my knees to my chest as much as I can.

I bury my face into my hands as a sob escapes my lips. I haven't cried this hard in a while, since Blue-Eyes dumped me.

I just..can't. I can't do the dresses. I can't pretend that I still have my old body, and am small and skinny. It just doesn't work. The dresses here aren't meant for maternity wear. I think the most disappointing part is that I should have expected that, too.

"Alice?"

I stiffen and look up. A familiar, yet blurred face towers over me. "Oh this is just great," I say, voice shaking. "Just what I needed. Why are you here?"

Trash-Can presses his lips together into a firm line. Concern mares his features. He holds his arm out, showing me the dark tuxedo that's draped over his forearm. "The same thing that you are, apparently. Looking for something to wear to prom."

"Oh," I mumble. Then I hiccup.

He squats down in front of me and sets his tux down onto the ground beside him. His eyebrows furrow. "Alice, what's wrong?"

"I'm fat," I snap at him, wiping furiously at my eyes. I can't believe I'm letting him see me this way. But I feel so miserable, I just don't care anymore. "I'm fat and I don't fit into any of the damn dresses. I look horrible. I hate dresses."

"I don't think you look horrible," he says. He scoots a little closer and gently pulls my hands away from my face. I grimace. He frowns at me. "I think you look beautiful."

I roll my eyes. "You're just saying that to be nice."

Tash-Can shakes his head. "You'll learn, sweetheart, that I am not a nice person. I mean it, you look great." His gaze travels over my torso. "Red is a good color on you."

"Please just stop it," I say, my voice falling back into a whisper. My eyes sting with unshed tears. "I just can't handle the lies anymore, okay? I don't look good."

"Alice, I'm going to be frank with you," he says, leaning forward. He rests his elbow against his knee and gestures toward me with his hands. "You don't look good. You look pregnant. And since the miracle of birth is a good thing, being pregnant automatically makes you look good. Haven't you ever heard of the pregnancy glow?"

"Eric, this isn't funny," I say.

He smiles kindly at me. It kind of makes my heart flutter inside my chest. "I know. It breaks my heart that you can't see how beautiful you are." He stands and holds a hand out. "Come on. Let's go find a dress that makes you look beautiful."

"I don't think such a dress exists," I grumble, but take his hand anyways.

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