"I have a date."
Jen’s eyes grew wide. The handful of popcorn she had halfway to her mouth stayed frozen in the air. For a second, we just stared at each other, my frenzied expression countering her startled one.
And suddenly she was gone. She moved so fast my eyes could barely register what was going on: a flying bowl, a blur of blonde, and a sudden jerk as she pulled me from living room.
"LET'S GO!" she yelled, not looking back.
"W–where are we going?" I asked, trying to avoid the kernels that were now strewn across our carpet.
"My room. You need girl clothes."
As the kitchen flashed past, I realized what was about to happen. I almost stopped her, but when it came to Jen, resisting usually made her push harder.
We reached her room and her grip finally loosened. She slid the closet doors open  and, hands on hips, began to stare down the clothes that were hanging there. I tore my eyes away from my roommate and looked into the closet.
For a second, I felt something almost like pride. Jen and I had been best friends since grade school, but our wardrobes couldn’t be more different. Hers was full of bright colors, sequins, and spaghetti straps. Mine was mostly hoodies, t-shirts, and jeans. I did have a dress somewhere—for formal occasions. Brides and mourning family members didn’t usually appreciate the work boots beneath the dress, but I thought it was a good trade off.
A smile spread across my face and I shook my head as I watched Jen picking her way through the clothes. I figured I’d give her a half an hour to have her fun and then we'd be done.
But then something caught my eye. Her closet seemed to be…off somehow. As the pieces started to come together in my head, my fragile compliance shattered.
Her closet was sectioned off. She already had clothing picked for me. It was like some weird game of dress-up. Like she was planning some kind of—.
"'Intervention'?" I asked, reading the scribble on a piece of masking tape above the hangers. She went suddenly stiff and gave me a sidelong glance. "Intervention??" I repeated. The happy butterflies in my stomach had an abrupt meeting with the windshield of reality. I stammered for several more seconds, too flustered to form a complete thought. Finally, I said the only other word that came to mind: "Seriously!?"
She turned delicately towards me, her usually pale face tinged with red. "Jules…I didn't think it was that big a deal." Her eyes grew wide as she seemed to realize that she had crossed a line. "It was just…something fun to think about…and plan…" she turned away, wincing, her voice dropping "…and shop for…"
I continued to stare at the back of her head, speechless. The intricately organized closet seemed to have sapped what little was left in my brain.
I guess I really shouldn’t have been surprised—when your best friend is a strong, stubborn, fruity-scented blonde, who has enough shoes to sink a small boat, it’s safe to assume some of those shoes probably fit you too. But how long had she been planning this weird game of dress-up? I mean, she’d made jokes about it. But, joking was one thing. This...this was something totally different.
And suddenly I wanted to yell. Actually, I wanted to headbutt her, but I didn't think our landlord would appreciate bloodstains.
She caught the look in my eye, and sighed. Her shoulders slumped. "Crap. Just…not in the face."
I don't know if my rapidly shifting emotions had finally gotten the better of me, or if it was just Jen's matter-of-factness about my desire to hit her, but I suddenly found myself doing the very last thing I expected: I started to laugh. It was like my brain didn't know what to do anymore, so it just gave up. Really, the whole thing was just kind of ridiculous. Jen was just trying to help, and I loved her for that—even if I didn't find her help too terribly helpful.
"Sooo…no hitting?" Jen asked, tentatively.
I shook my head, unable to stifle myself enough to speak.
"Awesome. Put this on."
I yelped mid-laughter as something pink and glittery flew at my face. "I like the way I dress!" I yelled through the shirt's tendriled grip.
“I know you do, but you’ve got a date! It's time for something new! It’ll be fun! We're gonna pull you out of your comfort zone!"
"But I like my comfort zone…it's comfortable."
She ignored me. "We're gonna make you look fantastic."
"Oh, are we?" I asked, throwing the glittery mess into the corner.
"Yes! I mean, c'mon, this is your first date since senior prom."
"…And…?"
She stopped shuffling through skirts and turned back to me. "'And!?' Julia—that was three years ago!"
I sat down on the bed. "Really didn't need that reminder, thank you."
Jen shook her head. "I'm not trying to shame you or anything, I'm just…" She gave up with a sigh, taking a seat next to me.
She was right. I hadn't been on a date in a long time. And that was perfectly fine.
Totally fine.
Ok, it was a little sad, but still.
I glanced around the room, my eyes coming to rest on Jen's window. If I was fast enough, I could open it and jump out before she could stop me. Three floors wasn't that high. I had to look at my situation rationally: I could be here with my roommate, trying on clothes, or I could be outside, sprawled on the ground with a broken leg.
I was still trying to make up my mind when Jen finally spoke up. "Remember when Ronny Parsons asked you to the sixth grade dance?"
That was random. "Yes."
"And you came into fifth period totally freaking out?"
"...Vaguely."
"And then your mom drove us to the mall after school so we could go dress shopping?"
I nodded my head.
"Remember how fun that was? It didn't matter to us that our dates were kind of weird, or that we might actually have to dance with them…it was just…fun. Like…we didn't have anything to worry about. Everything was right with the world. Everything was easy. We were at the mall, we had ice cream, we had dates, and we were together."
I did remember that…
Jen fell back onto the mattress. "And now we're in college and everything just seems…a lot more complicated."
I sat silently, staring unfocused into the closet. Things were a lot more complicated.
Jen sat back up, her gaze following mine. "I dunno…I guess all this was just my way of...trying to have that day again. I know it probably doesn't matter to you, but…" She sighed again and fell silent.
It did matter to me. "Ok."
"Ok?"
I took a deep breath. "Ok," I nodded.
Jen's face split into a grin and she looked like she was about to squeal.
"But no glitter."
"Deal!"