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Jenna stared at Alyssa, wide-eyed, as her friend finished recounting the story, already shaking her head in disbelief.
“Wait, wait, wait—so you’re telling me you parked your car all confident, stepped out, and immediately dunked your brand-new white Lacoste sneaks into a mud puddle?” Jenna couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness and sheer misery of the situation.
Alyssa leaned back, rolling her eyes at the memory. “Yup. That happened." She sighed dramatically, but her expression betrayed her as she started smirking. “I was a senior, it was the weekend of prom—which felt like the epitome of high school glory days—you know how it is. I thought I was on top of the world. New summer kicks, fresh out of the box with that little green crocodile, and I was ready to show them off at the senior picnic.”
Jenna threw a hand over her mouth, trying not to snicker. “Oh no, this is already painful to hear.”
“I wish someone had warned me,” Alyssa groaned with a rueful laugh. “I park in this big open field where we were having the picnic. Not a cloud in the sky—perfect day, right? I spot my friends at the other end and I’m like, ‘Let me just step out of my car, all casual, and wave to everyone like I belong in a summer catalog.’”
“I can picture it,” Jenna said, grinning widely. “Totally confident, completely oblivious…”
“Exactly!” Alyssa threw up her hands. “And then, BOOM. Both feet, like magnets, straight into a four-inch deep puddle of what looked like muddy water. I didn’t even see it! White canvas shoes? Instantly brown. The water rushed in. It was like someone opened floodgates. And the worst part? The cold, mucky, wet feeling that immediately spread inside my shoes, soaking into the soles of my feet.”
Jenna winced dramatically, her eyes wide. “Ohhh, nooo.” She reached out as if she could feel secondhand cringe seeping through her skin. “That exact moment—the second the water just… gets in? Absolute horror.”
“Right?!” Alyssa nodded emphatically, locking eyes with her in mutual understanding. “I froze. For a second, I just stood there, trying to process what had just happened, trying to pretend like maybe—just maybe—this all wasn’t real life. But nope. It was very real. And there I am, drenched shoes and all, feeling the squish with every step.” She mimicked the sound, making an exaggerated squelching noise as she moved her feet on the floor.
Jenna doubled over laughing, nearly toppling off the arm of the chair. “Oh my God, the squelching!”
“Yup. I gave up at that moment,” Alyssa continued. “I didn’t even try to salvage them. I spent the rest of the day just walking around in these sad, squishy, brown remnants of what were pristine Lacoste sneakers. Even my friends couldn't stop laughing. I was like, ‘Well… that sucks.’ But what was I gonna do? Go back to the car and cry? It was over. Those shoes were done. They never looked the same again.”
Jenna wiped away tears of laughter, gasping for air. “And right before prom?! Ohhh, that’s brutal!”
“I know, right?” Alyssa chuckled, shaking her head. “Thankfully, I had my prom shoes sitting at home, perfectly untouched by mud. But man, I learned my lesson that day. Now, the minute I see an open field, I hover-test the ground before stepping out of the car. I’m always paranoid there’s some invisible puddle of doom waiting to ruin my shoes.”
“I cannot believe you didn’t just sit in your car and scream,” Jenna added, still grinning but secretly horrified at the idea of new shoes being taken out like that.
“Oh, trust me,” Alyssa sighed, wryly smiling, “I wanted to. But once the water got in, I was like, ‘Well, they’re ruined now, might as well carry on and pretend I’m fine.’” She shook her head again, still baffled at how quickly a beautiful day turned tragic. “For real though, those were quality shoes. I had visions of an entire summer with them. Gone. In seconds.”
Jenna let out another laugh, but there was genuine sympathy in her eyes too. “It’s always the new shoes, isn’t it?"
“Always the new shoes,” Alyssa echoed, leaning back against the couch with mock exasperation. “And I'm still not over it."
Jenna sighed dramatically, wiping away the last signs of tears from laughing so hard. “Okay, maybe this is the universe’s way of telling us that any time we wear new white shoes, something is going to try and destroy them.”
“Exactly my thought,” Alyssa said, wagging her finger as though she had uncovered an ancient, cosmic truth. “New white shoes are like magnets for chaos. Nature's way of saying, ‘You think you’re stylish? Think again.’”
“Well, lesson learned”—Jenna crossed her arms resolutely—“No more nice white shoes unless I’m walking through a perfectly curated courtyard somewhere.”
Alyssa gave a knowing smile. “Amen to that.”
Though as Jenna finally made her way toward the bathroom again, she couldn’t help but look down at her currently ruined shoes and think to herself, Maybe I’ll just order black next time. Perhaps solid, unbreakable black was the only sneaker color safe from mischief.
Meanwhile, Alyssa sat back with a devious smile, wondering how long it would be before Jenna tried her luck with white shoes again. Because they both knew… it was only a matter of time.