“Or she really has too much homework,” I say. “I know I’m not Hannah, but I’m free this afternoon.” Today is supposed to be a catch up on homework day. But homework can wait in the name of a sister crisis. “I can text Fitz, too.”

“Really?” The mention of Fitz turns Delia’s entire mood around. Truly, there is no bigger fan of If the Shoe Fitz than Delia Jacobson. “I still need a dress for my Friday service.”

I send Fitz a message.

delia is having a friendship AND fashion emergency

11:10 AM

is your afternoon open for some shopping??

11:10 AM

Her response time to my text is the instant validation I crave.

MAJOR SAME

11:11 AM

(11:11 make a wisssssssh)

11:11 AM

this is a henry-free zone correct? we need to talk about that movie date???

11:11 AM

yes! ugh i know.

11:12 AM

i’m filming (stop distracting me) but i’ll pick you up at… does 2 work?

11:13 AM

you distract yourself fitzgerald

11:14 AM

perfect!

11:14 AM

“Fitz will pick us up at two,” I say.

Delia nods. “Thanks, Natalie.”

“Shopping sprees don’t heal all wounds, but they always help. I’m sorry Hannah is being such a butt. A third Monica. It will—”

A knock on the door interrupts my sister advice. Mom and Dad poke their heads in.

“You know, I remember vetoing an invitation to anyone named Monica,” Mom says innocently. “Blame us.”

We follow them back downstairs, and my sister takes a black Sharpie and crosses The Monicas off the guest list.

Shopping with Delia? It’s exhausting.

“This is my pro-cess, Natalie,” Delia says, drawing out each individual syllable as we enter the fitting room at Nordstrom Rack, the fourth store we’ve browsed in four hours.

“Respect the process, Natalie,” Fitz says, her arms overflowing with dress options. She supports Delia’s process with a handpicked selection of dresses, all sustainably sourced brands and from the sale rack. “You only get one bat mitzvah, you know?”

“What was yours like?” Delia asks.

“My theme was A Night in Paris,” Fitz says, passing Delia a lavender chiffon dress over the door. “We had a local patisserie supply the cake and deserts. The color palette was pink and black. Tiny Eiffel Towers were the centerpieces. This is my truth: I am a cliché.”

“It sounds perfect,” Delia says, unlocking the dressing room door and swinging it open to reveal the lavender dress that swallows her in too much material. “Unlike this dress.”

Fitz wrinkles her nose. “It didn’t look so… ruffly on the rack.”

“Not at all,” I agree.

“Purple is my Saturday color scheme, anyway. I already have those dresses,” Delia says.

Fitz nods. “Right! We should branch out.”