The Miraculous Makeover of Lizard Flanagan by Carol Gorman

good.”
    I turned back to the mirror. “Do you think Zach would’ve asked me to dance if I’d worn this thing?”
    â€œI don’t know. But it really looks nice.”
    â€œI don’t hate it as much as I thought I would.” I could only admit that to Mary Ann. She wouldn’t tease me.
    â€œHow much is it?” Mary Ann asked.
    I looked at the tag and showed it to her. “I have that much, plus a couple of bucks left over.”
    â€œWhy don’t you get it?”
    I looked at myself again in the mirror. I’d only have to wear it for school dances. The rest of the time it could hang in the back of my closet.
    â€œOkay,” I said.
    â€œGood.”
    I changed back into my shorts and we found the saleslady with the thick glasses.
    â€œWe’ll take it,” Mary Ann said.
    The woman took the skirt to the register.
    â€œI’ll be right back,” Mary Ann said. She disappeared between some clothes racks.
    I put my money on the counter.
    Mary Ann reappeared and pushed a small package over the counter. “She’ll take this, too.”
    I looked at what she’d handed the woman.
    â€œ I don’t want panty hose! ” I said.
    â€œThey’re tights, Lizard. Just one pair.”
    â€œI don’t want them!”
    â€œYou didn’t think you wanted the skirt, either, till you put it on,” Mary Ann said.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI dare you. You’re afraid to take them home.”
    â€œWhy would I be afraid—”
    â€œDo you want them or not?” asked the saleslady.
    â€œWhat are you, a chicken?” Mary Ann demanded.
    â€œOkay, okay, I’ll take them!”
    The woman said, “That’ll be another three-oh-nine.”
    I scowled at Mary Ann and shelled out the money. We walked away from the store, the bag under my arm.
    â€œThanks a lot,” I said. She giggled. “What’s so funny?”
    â€œYou,” she said. “All I had to do was call you a chicken! It was so easy!”

12
    I stood in my room wearing nothing but my underwear and stared at the denim skirt hanging in my closet.
    Why did I promise Mary Ann that I’d wear it?
    â€œLizard,” Mom called out from the bottom of the stairs. “Better hurry on down to breakfast.”
    I looked at the clock on my nightstand. I was late!
    â€œOkay,” I yelled. “I’ll be down in a minute.” I went to my drawer and pulled out my favorite pair of shorts.
    Then I heard Mary Ann’s voice in my head. “I’ll wear my denim skirt and tights on Monday, too,” she’d said. “My skirt looks almost like yours.”
    I dropped the shorts back into the drawer. I couldn’t go back on my word to Mary Ann. I’d promised I’d wear the skirt and those ridiculous panty hose.
    â€œDo it!” I ordered myself in the mirror over my dresser. “What are you, a chicken? ”
    I took the package out of my drawer, opened it, and pulled out the panty hose.
    â€œWhich side is the front?”
    I turned them around and around. I couldn’t tell, so I decided maybe it didn’t matter.
    I sat on the bed and wadded up one leg the way I’d seen my mother do. Then I put my toe in and pulled the hose partway up my leg. Then I did the same on the other leg.
    I stood up and grabbed the waistband of the hose and pulled. The top came up partway, but bunches of the legs were still in folds around my knees.
    â€œHow the heck do you get these on?”
    I grabbed the box the hose had come in and looked at every side of it. There weren’t any directions on how to put them on!
    I pulled the panty hose down partway and tried wadding the top part the way I had the legs. It wasn’t easy, but with some wiggling, I finally got them on.
    They looked okay but they felt horrible: itchy and kind of clingy and tight.
    Then I put on the skirt and a fairly new shirt.
    I was ready. Now all I had to do was go