On an Edge of Glass

okay.  I’m not desperate enough to push you.”  Payton drops her arms and makes her way over to the closet.  With her back to me, she leans against the door frame.  Her feet are crossed at the ankles.  “So, if you won’t tell me what’s really going on with you then you can at least tell me what you’re going to wear tonight.” 
    I swallow and shrug lightly , trying to regain a bit of normalcy.  “I’m not sure—probably just jeans or something casual.”
    “You mean something boring ?”
    “ Excuse me?  Boring?”
    Looking at me over her shoulder, s he nods her head once.  “Yes Ellie.  Jeans are fine, but when they become like a uniform, it turns into boring.
    Self-consciously, I look down at my jeans.  “I prefer to think of my wardrobe choices as classic . ”
    Payton rolls her eyes and turns back to the closet.  “I have it on good authority that the majority of hot guys aren’t looking for classic when it comes to a woman’s wardrobe choices . ” 
    I don’t know whether to laugh or feel ticked off.  “Well, maybe I’m not interested in the majority of hot guys.”  Just one in particular , I think.  And he seems to like my clothes just fine. 
    Payton wags her head.  “I’m sure you’re not.”  She pushes the hangers aside one by one until she finds what she’s looking for.  It’s a long-sleeved dress in the color of new spring leaves.  The bust is made of a tight-woven knitted material that falls away to a loose and gauzy skirt with dark stitching around the hem.  Payton cradles it in front of her body like a favorite teddy bear.
                  “You want me to wear that dress tonight?” 
                  Payton makes a sound that’s somewhere between choking and sighing and thrusts the dress toward me.  “Yes.  I want you to wear this green dress to Ben’s show tonight because it’s always been too long on me so it will be perfect on you.  And I want you to put on earrings and eye liner and lipstick.  I want you to have a vodka and cranberry or two, and in general, I want you to stop overthinking every single thing, and just have some good old-fashioned fun.”
                  Rather than irritate Payton further, I take the dress and lay it flat on the bed so that the skirt dangles over the side.  The fabric is cool and smooth.  It has a wide neckline and the sleeves flare out a little at the wrists. If not for the fact that I take offense to my wardrobe choices being labeled boring, or that I don’t particularly like being handed orders, I would sort of love the dress.  
    M y phone buzzes alerting me to a new email, and I’m glad for the distraction.  Using my thumb, I scroll to my inbox.
                  “What is it?” Payton asks.  She’s sitting at a small stool in front of a suspended mirror putting deodorant under her arms.
                  A long, silent minute ticks by.
                  “My LSAT scores,” I say cooly, giving nothing away yet.  I need a minute to let things soak in.
                  Payton puts the deodorant tube down and comes closer.  She’s almost hovering.  “And?”  Her voice is threaded with anticipation.
                  I let the hand holding the phone drop to the bed.  I squeeze my eyelids shut.  When I reopen them, the room shifts.  It feels like something is falling away from me.  “Not good.”
    Payton takes a visible breath.  “What does ‘not good’ mean Ellie?”
    “It means exactly what it sounds like,” I say, the volume of my voice rising.   My brain throbs like it’s been crammed with a spiraling train of dominos and the one on the end has just been knocked down.  “It means that my scores aren’t bad , but they aren’t great either.  Not Columbia great.  Not by a long shot.”
    “ You can’t know that already.  You can still get into Columbia.  I know that you can.  You’re like a scholastic superstar.”  She sounds so sure of herself. 
    I clamp my teet h down and let go of my breath.  “Actually, I can know that already.  Trust me, Payton.  I’ve been working toward Columbia Law for practically my entire life.  I know for a fact what the LSAT requirements are, and I know that these scores aren’t going to cut it.”
    She sits on the corner of the bed.  “Well… um, why can’t you just take the test again?”
    I know that she’s just trying to help, but