Ashley’s POV- Friday

When I get home from school my mom is waiting for me in the car port.

"Hi mom." I say neutrally. Oh man she must have founf my copy of ‘Far From Xanadu’.

"Hi sweety! Put your stuff in the house and come back out here." Uh-oh! she’s taking me to the orphanage. I know it. She found my stolen Victoria’s Secret’s. She’s disowning me. I get back out to the car and she smiles at me. I think she may have winked too.

"Mom, where are we going?" I ask wearily.

"The mall. I’m taking you shopping! You can’t go to the dance wearing just any old thing." she says with a broad grin on her face.

"Um… ok?"

When we get to the mall I immediatly head for Hot Topic. I hear the loud clunk of my mom’s steletoes behind me. 

"W’re going all out: outfit, shoes, accessories, underwear. The works like a Philly cheese steak" my mom says.

"Sweet! Thanks!" I’m not really a big clothes person but I need clothes and I like getting stuff.

"Well you can’t go on your first real date wearing what you always wear." she says the part about the ‘date’ with pride. Usually moms get all wierd when their daughters start dating but not mine. She celebrates!

"Yea, ok? Where should we start?" 

"Panties!"

"Mom! Ohmygod!"

"What? Hun, I’ve seen your underwear and their not flattering."

"He’s not going to see them."

"Why not?"

"Mom…"

"Fine. Just go pick something out." She sighs. I go over to the bras and underwear. I scan through them ignoring anything pink, yellow, itchy looking, underwires, ect. I pick some black boy shorts with little white sculls and ht ebra that goes with them. My mom comes up behind me and puts them back.

"Hey! I like those!"

"I said something flattering! After this we’re going to Victoria’s Secret. Honestly, you should have been my son." she says laughing. I start scanning the walls for something kool to wear. I see up at the top a black, satiny skirt and a corsette with clasps up the front and a ribbon down the back. My mom asks the guy at the register to get down a size small for me. I go in the little changing room and try it on. In the mirror I look foreign. I don’t own any skirts and I seldom remember doning many dresses. I feel slightly exposed but I’ll get used to it. I take my stuff out with me.