That was the truth. Kind of. Maria did like being taller. But if she was totally and completely honest, she chose the shoes more because of what they did for her legs than what they did for her height. She'd have to live in the gym to get the killer calves those shoes gave her.

Liz's dad had broken down and bought new uniforms for the wait staff at the Crashdown Cafe. They were basically Men in Black rip-offs. Except Maria had gone for the black skirt instead of the black pants. And in her new skirt, with the new shoes, well, it's not like she was suddenly as beautiful as Liz or anything. But the combo definitely got her a few more looks, and a few more tips, than usual.

Unfortunately the guy she most wanted to do the looking, Michael Guerin, hadn't shown up today. He hung out at the cafe a lot. Of course, he never bothered to tell her in advance when he was going to stop by. That would make things way too easy on her. And her feet.

"People don't pat you on the head because you're short," Liz explained. "It's because your hair looks so springy. People want to touch it to see if it will go boing."

"Oh, thanks for clarifying that." Maria tried to shoot Liz an annoyed look but ruined it by breaking into giggles.

"I'll collect the sugar bowls, and you can start filling them," Liz said. "That way you can stay behind the counter… where probably no one will notice that you aren't wearing shoes."

Maria immediately kicked off the torture devices masquerading as footwear. Aaaah! She gave her toes a happy wiggle, then knelt down to grab the sugar. As she reached for the box, the opening notes of the Close Encounters theme rang out.

The door chime. Someone was coming in. Was it Michael? Without standing up, Maria grabbed her left shoe and jammed her foot in. She felt an explosion of wetness on her heel as her blister burst. She ignored the pain and shoved on the right shoe, gripping the counter for balance. Then she slowly stood up, trying for a casual, I-have-no-idea-the-door-chime-even-rang coolness.