Leslie lay on the worn carpet of her bedroom floor, the Tuesday feminist meeting still echoing through her mind like a rallying cry. It was Thursday now, but Gretchen’s words refused to fade. The future is female.

The speech had awakened something inside of Leslie. Afterward, she’d been swept into conversations with even more women who burned with the same convictions. Taylor had been right: in that circle of fierce, like-minded sisters, Leslie had finally found her place. A sharp knock on the door yanked her back to reality.

“Leslie, are you decent?” her mother called from the hallway.

“Yeah, Mom,” Leslie answered, not bothering to get up. Beverly pushed the door open and sighed the moment her eyes landed on her daughter. “Why did we bother buying you perfectly good furniture if you’re just going to live on the floor like some poor person?” She shook her head, the familiar mix of disapproval and reluctant affection flickering across her face. “You have a visitor. A girl named Taylor?” Leslie bolted upright, heart leaping. She was stunned her mother hadn’t told their butler to turn Taylor away at the doorstep. Beverly was all about appearances and refused to associate, or let Leslie associate, with those she deemed “less than”. Still, Leslie wasn’t about to question the miracle. She scrambled to her feet and hurried downstairs, Beverly trailing close behind.

The second Leslie stepped into the living room, she froze, eyes widening in disbelief. It was Taylor, but not the Taylor she knew. The bold two-toned hair was gone, replaced by sleek, perfectly styled jet-black hair that was like something out of a country-club catalog.

She wore a satin green dress with a flowing skirt and pearls that looked like they’d been pulled straight from Beverly’s own closet. The transformation was so complete Leslie almost didn’t recognize her. “Taylor?” Leslie breathed, the name half-question, half-laugh.

“Hi, Leslie,” Taylor replied in a polished voice that nearly made Leslie snort. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by unannounced, but I’ve been thinking about your offer to tell me more about the Academy. If you have time, I’d love to treat you to lunch at the country club or wherever you’d like, really.”

Leslie’s face lit up. She spun toward her mother. “Mom, can I go? Please?” Beverly blinked, visibly thrown by her daughter’s sudden enthusiasm. “Uh…of course, sweetheart.” Leslie started for the door, but Taylor raised a freshly manicured hand. “Hang on, Leslie. Wouldn’t you like to change into something more…appropriate first?”

“Oh…right. Sure!” Leslie dashed back upstairs, heart pounding with excitement and a strange, giddy nervousness. She dug through the back of her closet where the untouched pile of “respectable” clothes her mother had bought her still sat.

After a quick rummage, she found an outfit she could actually tolerate that would be fitting for a posh outing. She changed in record time, leaving her room looking like a tornado had ripped through it, then bounded back downstairs. “- and her hair will grow back out, of course. It’ll be even more beautiful, I’m sure,” Taylor was saying smoothly to Beverly as Leslie re-entered the room. “I’m ready!” Leslie announced cheerfully.

The look of pure shock on her mother’s face was almost worth the whole charade. Leslie grinned, planted a quick kiss on Beverly’s cheek, and grabbed Taylor’s hand. “I’ll be back soon, Mom!”

“It was lovely meeting you, Mrs. Blanks,” Taylor said with flawless politeness as Leslie practically dragged her toward the front door.

The moment they stepped outside and the door clicked shut behind them, Leslie stared at the gleaming Chrysler parked out front. It looked brand new, worlds away from the beat-up truck they’d driven into the Grove. “Have I entered the Twilight Zone or something?” Leslie whispered, half-laughing. Taylor smirked, casually resting her arm on Leslie’s shoulder.. “You’ll learn fast that your parents will let you get away with murder as long as they think you’re falling in line,” she murmured.