(Callie POV)

From Arizona: Nope, no hints! Just throw on something nice, Calliope :) See you soon!

…What the fuck did that even mean? I mean she downright refused to tell me where the hell we were going. And technically I could wear an outfit that would be nice for Chuck E. Cheese's but that choice of attire wouldn't be the same as dressing nice to go to a goddamn opera house. Plus, it's not like I could sneak a peek across the room to make sure I don't over-or-underdress.

"Hmmm I think I'm gonna get ready at Teddy's tonight… You know, so there can be an element of surprise and mystique and all that fun stuff! Ooooh and it'll be so much more romantic this way! Super!" Arizona chirped in the locker room this morning, animatedly nodding her head in agreement with herself.

An uneasy frown etched deeper and deeper into my face as the word 'nice' rang in my head persistently, taunting me with its cruel ambiguity.

Why'd she feel the need to say that anyway? Gosh, it's not like I make a habit of dressing like a slob! And even if I did, how would she know? She's only known me for a couple of weeks, give or take. What, did she think I was gonna show up in a ratty old practice uniform or something, which, by the way, I could totally rock if I wanted to…

But that wasn't really the point I guess. The point was, well… Damn, it never gets easier, does it? Firsts, that is. First kisses, first dates… There was just something about them that made my brain shut down in some sort of panic, leaving my nerves scrambling into overdrive to try to pick up the slack. And to make matters worse, with each person came a brand new set of 'firsts'. All of the sudden I'd realize that I have a whole new audience, another reason for those pesky 'what ifs' to gnaw at my psyche like a ravenous colony of termites.

And yet that novelty never failed to bring about an inexplicable sense of vulnerability in me. There was this ominous feeling I always seemed to get during 'beginnings', this paralyzing fear of screwing something up before it had the chance to get off the ground. Even the slightest hint at the possibility of destroying something with an almost endless amount of potential made my stomach feel like it was closing in on itself.

To anyone else, it may look kind of stupid- getting so worked up about this stuff, I mean… Because why waste time and energy dwelling on something that might not even happen? Logically, I knew if worse come to worst I could and would simply move on just like I always did. Logically, I knew it was not as dire, not as 'life-or-death,' as it felt at the moment. But as I stood in a wardrobe war-zone, completely surrounded by heaps of heels; a disarray of dresses; a pandemonium of pants… Well, it was like every neuron in my brain with any semblance of logic had the sense to surgically remove itself from my head to get away from the crazy. Unfortunately, I couldn't escape my own mind; I wasn't afforded that luxury.

My eyes narrowed into a withering glare aimed at the unsuspecting plastic device that I had clenched in my now very white fist. With one final look of disgust, I flung my cellphone across the hotel room, letting out an uncharacteristically dark laugh when the phone narrowly missed a cushion-y pile of clothes and, instead, made contact with the carpeted floor with a thump. On its second bounce the screen went blank as the battery popped out of its cartridge. My lips twisted into a crooked grin that gradually faded into a bitter grimace as my earlier anxiety had reemerged full force and replaced the irrational rush of pride I'd gotten from my split second of 'glory'… Which had admittedly lost a lot of its 'oomph' factor once my jittery brain had settled down long enough to realize that my BlackBerry was but a mere casualty in my misguided efforts to 'kill the messenger'. My feet reluctantly trudged their way over to the other side of the room; I scooped the phone up with ease. My hands fumbled to reassemble it, clicking everything into place.

The device was revived and began to sputter with life. An idea flashed before my eyes, much like the glitzy opening sequence my phone went through as it began the process of turning on. Before I knew what I was doing, my fingers were already flying across the keypad, reciting a succession of numbers that had been committed to memory a long time ago.

After three rings the phone made a slight crackling sound as fairly melodramatic yet very well known sigh broke through the static. "Callie, you know better than to call during prime primping hours! You're so lucky I just finished my second coating a few minutes ago or I wouldn't have picked u-"

"Yeah, yeah, gussies before hussies and all that jazz. Please, Addie, you know I wouldn't have called unless I, you know, really needed to and all… P-Please?" I interrupted quickly before Addison's rant could reach the point of no return; the tone of my voice became more and more frantic with each word spoken.

"Sorry," she said more softly after a brief pause. "Okay then, what's got your panties in a bunch on this fine evening?"

"It's Arizona," I replied bluntly.

"Oookay there, Cal. That is what we like to call too much information!" the redhead quipped, chuckling a little.

"No, no!" I nearly shouted, my already frazzled nerves and I weren't exactly in the mood for anything close to a joke, no matter how much I'd set myself up for it. "You know how I told you about Arizona asking me out?"

"Yes, Callie, I managed to remember what you told me a few hours ago. Plus, you know, she's getting ready here right now. I'd have to be terribly unobservant not to see her…"

"EXACTLY!" I bellowed. Sheesh, where the fuck did my volume control go? I cleared my throat and decided to try again without so many decibels. "Uhh sorry, I just really need your help."

"Umm I'm not really following here…" Addie's voice trailed off, perhaps getting a little lost in the jumbled thoughts she was trying to make sense of.

"Arizona won't tell me where we're going," I grumbled; my frustration was now at an almost palpable state. "She refuses to say where we're freaking going and I don't know what the fuck I should wear! And-And I…"

"And you called me to see if I would budge?" Addison finished my sentence with ease; I could almost hear her raise one of her eyebrows. The whole mind-reading thing might've irked me if it weren't so damn convenient in desperate times like this.

"Please, Addie! J-Just a clue! I don't want to throw on some baggy pair of sweatpants if she's gonna show up all dolled up in a ball gown like she walked straight outta some Disney princess movie!"

"Okay, okay fine. I'll check really quick," she huffed.

"Thank-you-thank-you- thank-you thank-you-thank-you!" I murmured repeatedly, so fast that the different syllables started to sound eerily similar.

"Yeah, yeah. You owe me, woman." My best friend mumbled before drawing in a gust of air that would make even Kirby proud. "Oh my god!" Addison breathed in a reverent tone.

"Ad? Wha-What-" I stuttered.

"Oh my gosh, you gotta see her dress; it's fucking gorgeous! And her shoes! Her shoes, Callie!"

"Okay, so there's a dress. Good, I can work with that-"

"God, Jimmy Choo is a fucking genius, no, an inspiration! I've always said a good pair of heels is like a work of art, Cal, and this. This is more than just art; it's something bigger than itself, you know? Like a symbol-"

"Addison!" I barked and strangely enough, she actually stopped mid-rant. I softened my voice and continued, "As, um, fascinating as shoes are and all they represent, could you possibly talk to me about color schemes as far as her clothes go? I don't want us to clash or, God forbid, match or…"

Instead of the sulky sigh I had expected as a response, a sharp squeak escaped Addison's mouth and an odd rustling sound followed.

"Callie Torres!" an unexpected voice drawled in a quiet tone that did nothing to weaken the disapproval that was practically seeping out.

Shit.

"I-I…"

"Just save it," the voice cut in. "Are you doing what I think you're doing? Actually, never mind, I know you. Of course that's what you're doing."

"Wait, wait! I'm sorry, Teddy. Please don't tell her! I-I'll do anything! You name it and I'll-"

"Take care of my friend and I'll call it even, Cal," she said with a rare softness to her voice before hanging up.

I blankly stared at my Blackberry for a few moments then shook my head lightly as if it were an Etch-A-Sketch that needed to be reset. I shifted my eyes to the down to the alarm clock that rested on the nightstand in between our beds.

7:30? Shit, I've only got a half an hour!

The flutter of my nerves gave me a quick jolt to the system, sending my feet in a hurry across the room and around mountains of clothing. As my hands shakily dug their way into the daunting depths of my closet, somehow, I knew one thing for sure. This was going to be one hell of a beginning…