“Half my outfits are splayed on the pink carpet, no longer in their original forms. Meaning my first-day-of-school shirt is now a mini-dress; my last year’s green prom dress is now blue; my sandals are now strappy stilettos; and my running shoes are now heels. My sister sits in the eye of the tornado, in just her underwear and a sequined top. I believe the top was once a necklace. “Um, Miri? What are ya doing?” “I have nothing to wear,” she wails. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. “To wh...at?” “What do you mean, ‘to what’? To the Simsorta! To see Praw! I need to look pretty! And I have nothing pretty! Nothing!” “Mom said we could go?” I ask. “Kind of,” she says. “She said we weren’t allowed to miss school for someone we barely know, but that we could go for the dancing. So we’ll come home right after school, get ready, then go to Paris. But only if I have something to wear!” “Calm down. We’ll find you something nice. You’ll come shopping with me and Wendaline today.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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