The day before I’m set to leave, I send Corinne an SOS text, and we manage to make time for an emergency FaceTime session.

She’s sitting on her bed looking totally cute in the pair of pajamas with Empire State Buildings sprinkled across the fabric that I bought her as a going away present when she moved to London. Her hair is in a messy bun, and the occasionally choppy connection on our cell phones reminds me of when we’d stay up late to catch up with each other on opposite sides of the country.

With impeccable chopstick skills, Corinne shovels an impressive amount of Pad Thai into her mouth.

My stomach growls in response.

“I’m gonna need you to put down that food if you expect me to make it through this call without ordering takeout.”

She grabs another heaping pile of noodles and sucks the very last one into her mouth. “Order it! Although my whole life is takeaway now so I’m probably not a good influence.”

“You were never a good influence,” I tease. Back when the two of us first met and we were still young and impressionable high schoolers, Corinne led me into a lot of harmless trouble.

She sticks her tongue out at me.

“Still working long hours?” I ask.

She nods. For the first time since our call connected, I notice how tired she looks. Her bright smile and warm personality detract from the dark circles under her eyes, but they’re there.

“I go in the office at six AM usually, get home around eight if I’m lucky. Most days I’m not lucky. It takes me a little while to unwind and get to the point where I can sleep, then I just get up and do it all over again. But I’m happy here,” she says, heading off my next question before I have a chance to ask it.

“Then I’m happy.”

She grins, then tips her takeout container toward the camera. “This place down the street from my flat is so good I’d probably get takeaway every day, even if I wasn’t so busy I could hardly breathe.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said takeaway. And flat? My my, we’re becoming British.”

“Hey,” she replies with a shrug. “Just trying to blend in.”

“I’ll have to come visit soon so I can judge this takeaway for myself, since I’m a Thai connoisseur.”

Her face brightens at that suggestion. “Please do. I miss you.”

“I miss you too. Apart from the great food, is everything else going okay?”

Corinne nods. “I’m making friends. It was tough at first, kind of lonely. But it’s getting better now.”

“Good.”

“So…the emergency part of this call, what’s that about? Are we picking the best outfits to knock Poppy Argyle off her feet?”

Despite my excitement about the whole reason for this call, I’d completely forgotten what it was since I’d started talking to Corinne.

“Yes,” I say, hopping up off my bed.

“That’s such a ridiculous name,” she mutters as I walk over to the garment rack on the far side of my room and turn the phone so she can see the finalists.

“Ridiculous name, amazing designer,” I sigh. “Okay, so I sent you pics of everything I have ready that I can take with me. I like these six. Two maxi dresses, the off-the-shoulder top, the silk blouse, the blazer and the miniskirt.”

“I would’ve picked most of these, but I’d go with the strawberry blouse instead of the grey. I think it lays better on the model; there’s something off with the placket on the grey.”

I run to my laptop and find the photos that I sent to Corrine a few days ago, then pull up the strawberry to compare with the grey. It’s barely noticeable, but sure enough there’s a slight wave in the placket near the button closest to the breast.

“Good catch.”

“And what are you going to wear?”

“I was thinking of the purple asymmetrical dress, the—”

“The flowy one?”

I nod. “Yeah. What do you think?”

She excitedly claps her hands. “I approve. It accentuates your boobs and your back, two of your best features. And it’s very you. I think it represents your style well. The fit is perfect.”

I laugh. “It should be, I made it for myself.”

“I think you made excellent choices. You’re going to look gorgeous and knock Poppy Whatsherface off her feet.”

As I pull some of my hair back into a bun I say, “Thanks, Cor.”

“Any idea what you’re going to say to her?”

I plop down on my bed, falling back onto my fluffiest pillow. “Not exactly. I’ve written a few things down but I don’t want it to seem rehearsed, but I don’t want to go completely off the cuff either because I tend to ramble. I would die if I made a fool of myself in front of her.”

“Just tell her you love her style, think you could learn a lot from her and somehow ask if she’ll mentor you without sounding demanding.”

I huff out a laugh. “Easy enough task.”

“Does Oliver have any advice for you?”

“I don’t know,” I reply with a shrug. “I haven’t asked.”

Corinne playfully rolls her eyes. “Talk to him. Talk to your brother. They have experience running companies. Ask them how they’d like someone to approach them about mentorship.”

I’m not sure how I hadn’t thought of that yet.

“That’s a great idea. I knew you were my best friend for a reason.”

“More than one reason I hope. Are you nervous?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Are you nervous about going with Oliver?”

I nod. “Very. It was nice of him to agree to it after the way I asked.”

She lets out a disagreeable grunt. “Felicity, you know he’d do anything you ask him to.”

“That’s true,” I reply, fumbling with the edge of my t-shirt with my free hand. “He loves Ben and he’s known me a long time.”

“You know that’s not—”

“Corinne. Stop. I have enough on my plate as it is.” The last thing I need is her getting my hopes up. Especially considering the huge crush she had on Caleb a few years ago. She knows that feelings like these don’t generally end well for little sisters like us.

She holds up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You know I want you to call me anytime you need to, or before you leave if you need a pep talk, and I definitely want you to call me after you meet your future mentor and she falls in love with your work. I won’t even be mad if you yell.”

Corinne has always been such a great friend to me. “With the time difference on the west coast it’s entirely possible I could be yelling at you at four in the morning. You know that right?”

“You’re about the only person I’d pick up for at that time of morning.”

“Hopefully I have good news for you.”

She smiles. “You will, I can feel it.”