A/N: First, I'd like to say, "Sadie, pick the blue shirt! For the sake of your relationship with Ben, and my sanity, pick blue!"
Second, this is a continuance of Sliding Closet Doors. This picks up directly where SCD left off, 'kay?
Oh, and I'm sorry that it's out like, two weeks after the episode. But it's out, right?
And, without further ado…
Disclaimer: Hmm, if I owned Naturally, Sadie, not only would Sadie have chosen the blue shirt, but I'd be rich and NOT writing this right now. Hence, it's safe to say I don't own Naturally, Sadie.
I held up both shirts, one pink, one blue, in front of my reflection in the mirror. "Which to choose, which to choose?"
I couldn't decide. I have this semi-phobia about making up my mind. Take, for instance, that fiasco with me going with both Ben and Owen to that dance. Not my best.
And I couldn't really wear both shirts, like I had taken both Ben and Owen.
Well, I could wear both shirts, but that would not be good.
So I went to a professional.
I turned from my reflection to face Margaret, my best friend and all-around fashion guru, and held up the shirts.
"Margaret, help. I can't choose. This could totally change the outcome of my life. Well, at least my day. What if the butterfly flapped the wrong wing and ended up starting a hurricane that hit her mid-migration, and she died? I don't want to die!"
Margaret looked at me like that time I tried to give Ben some film for his camera for his birthday. ("Let the guy buy his own basic. You know, socks, underwear, and, in Ben's case, camera film.")
"Sadie, Sadie, Sadie. First, what are you talking about? And, second, the easiest way to decide on your outfit is to do a make-up/accessories check."
I stared at Margaret like I did when she told me a spider was an insect, only with more legs.
She sighed. "You know, check what accessories and make-up you have that would match an outfit. If you don't have something to match one blouse, you pick the other."
My eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
She rolled her eyes. "Sadie, we find all the accessories that could match, pick the best and choose the shirt-"
I cut her off. "No, I mean I don't even wear make-up. I barely even blow-dry."
"Sadie, Sadie, Sadie…. My naïve little butterfly. Not only are you blow-drying, but you're curling, plucking, and letting me do your make-up." She walked over to where I kept the make-up she had given me for my last birthday, and started rifling through the bag.
I sat down on the bed. "Margaret. I don't get it. Why is this such a big deal-"
Margaret's scream cut me off.
"You're all out of blue eye-shadow." She held up an empty compact.
"Oh, is that what that is?" I asked. "I thought it was the fingerprint dusting powder."
She gave me that look again. "No, it's not. It's eye shadow. And the fact that it's empty means you cant wear the blue shirt."
Margaret walked over to my bed, and picked up both shirts. She then tossed the pink to me, and the blue over her shoulder.
"Put that shirt one while I get the curlers from your bathroom. In I cant wait till Ben sees you in that pink shirt."
Margaret left the room, leaving me to change.
I felt kind of nervous, putting on that blouse. Like, wearing it could totally change the outcome of my life.
Wow, I guess Margaret really was rubbing off on me.
Mere seconds after I had the blouse on, Margaret burst in through the bedroom door, sporting a hairdryer in one hand and a plastic bag filled with curlers in the other. She set them down on my desk, and turned to me, saying, "You did remember to put on deodorant, right?"
"Eew, Margaret. But, yes, I did."
She sighed. "Good." She then patted the desk chair. "Get over here."
Rolling my eyes, I walked over to the chair, and proceeded to let her "beautify" me.
Margaret set my hair in curlers, blow-dried my hair, took out the curlers, puller half my hair into a clip at the back of my head, did my eyebrows, and had started on my mascara when Hal burst in.
I turned away from Margaret's eye-lash curler and said, "What, Hal?"
"I just came to bring you your paper thing. It was one the island, and I wouldn't want to spill orange juice on-WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?" Hal stood with his mouth hanging open and his finger pointing at my shirt.
"You mean my blouse?" I asked.
"More like your tornado," he said smirking as he entered my room and came over to where we were.
"Ignore him," said Margaret, as she put down the eye-lash curler and picked up a bottle of mascara.
Hal's eyes widened even more at the mascara. "What's that stuff?" he asked, pointing.
"It's mascara, Hal. Now, Sadie, open your eyes really wide and-"
"Can I see?" Hal grabbed it out of Margaret's hands, and unscrewed the bottle. "What's this part called?" he asked, waving the wand around.
"It's called a mascara wand," I said, rolling my eyes. "Now give it back, Hale."
He ignored me, saying, "You mean like a magic wand?"
Again, he ignored me, and started waving it around, like a little kid.
"Give it back, Hal," Margaret said, getting frustrated.
He held up his hand, the mascara wand pointed at us. "On one condition. I get to cast a spell."
I sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Just give it back."
Surprise, Hal ignored me again, and instead rolled up his sleeves and cleared his throat. Then he started brandishing the wand, like he was Harry Potter, and said a spell:
"Sadie's sleeves, how long they are
They cover things both near and far
Like a tornado, they fill me with fear
Now make Sadie's sleeves disappear."
As he said "disappear", he tapped my shirt sleeve with the wand, getting mascara all over my blouse.
It was ruined.
"Hal, oh my gosh, look what you did," Margaret yelling, pointing at my sleeve. "What are we going to do now?" She started pacing the room.
"Margaret, I'll just wear the blue shirt."
She stopped pacing to give me a death glare. "No, you wont. You don't have any blue eye shadow. You used it all for fingerprinting stuff."
"Was it my fault someone-Hal-kept stealing my stuff? And I can just wear no eye shadow."
Margaret screamed, "Sadie! What are you thinking? Of course you have to wear eye shadow. What will Ben think when he gazes into your eyes, about o ask you out, and notices that you aren't wearing any eye shadow?"
"Uh, that my eyes look fine without it?"
Hal, who was still standing there, mascara wand in hand, glanced around, and said, "Uh, I think I'll be going now."
"No, you wont," said Margaret. "Now, what color do you think looks best on Sadie?"
"Is this a trick question?"
"No, Hal," Margaret almost yelled. "Now answer the question."
Hal danced around, thinking. (If he knew how.)
"Well, I guess redheads look good in green-"
Margaret did yell. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that? Bye, Hal!" she pushed Hal out the door. As soon as he was gone, she ran over to the make-up bag, and rifled through it, until she held up a green eye shadow container, and screamed, "Ha!"
She then ran over to my closet, flung open the doors, and started pulling clothes off the hangers, searching for something.
I just sat in the chair, watching her.
Fifteen seconds later, she found what she was looking for, and threw it at me. It was a light green tank top. Seconds later, a matching darker green fitted jacket hit me.
"Quick, put those on! What are you waiting for? Now!"
I looked at her skeptically. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Hal was right. Green is so your color."
A/N: No ridiculously long author's note this time. Not really feeling up to it. Just tell me what you guys think, 'kay?