Miscalculation

[RonR]

Jill walked away from the group, her head held high, a little victory-laced smile playing on her glossed lips. The sun bounced off her flawless, pink checkered sundress as it swished playfully around her legs. With her pristine Keds clacking softly on the park's dry grass and the faint tension of superiority in the air, she could practically feel herself glowing with triumph. Ally had been left in mud-soaked humiliation, and Jill? Well, she was off to a perfect lunch, untouched and unsullied.

But as she neared the boundary of the grassy park and the dirt path around the mud pit, Jill made her first, simple miscalculation: she wasn’t paying attention to where she was walking.

Her eyes were somewhere else, scanning her phone, probably considering the best caption for the Instagram-worthy shot Maddie had dutifully snapped earlier, or perhaps mentally composing a story with some cheeky version of the phrase “[#PreppyVersusMud](#).”

That’s when it happened.

In her moment of self-congratulation, her foot caught a patch of soft, uneven ground just near the edge of the pit—a spot where the workers who had dug out the mud had unintentionally left a ridge of slightly loose dirt. Her ankle wobbled sharply, and her normally graceful, controlled steps faltered.

Jill’s balance gave out in a sudden, uncharacteristic jerk—a swift, terrifying reminder that gravity didn’t care about sundresses, Keds, or carefully curated appearances. She wobbled and, with a gasp, tried to correct her footing.

"No—" she gasped, arms flailing instinctively to steady herself, fingers grasping for air.

Her pristine, white Keds slipped against the loose earth, and her body pitched forward, angling directly into the very mud pit she had just triumphed over—the one she had so joyously been mocking Ally for. Her phone—clutched in one hand—went flying through the air as her feet betrayed her.

Splat.

The sound it made as she hit the thick, wet mud was almost surreal, a lurid squelch that blended the dull thud of impact with the gross, wet slurp of the mud wrapping its slimy arms around her. For a moment, everything just stilled. Jill was face-first in the mud. No half-graceful stumble, no delicate streak of dirt on her cheek like in a movie—nothing. Jill was in the pit, legs twisted awkwardly beneath her, lying half on her side, covered. The mud was everywhere. It coated her sundress, slathered her arms, and seeped into her previously immaculate hair.

And her spotless Keds—her poor, perfect, white Keds—were now drenched in oozing brown muck, disappearing into the disgusting pit as if the earth had swallowed them whole.

Time seemed to freeze for everyone around as they processed the sight. Then, unbidden, uncontrollable, unstoppable:

Laughter.

It started as a low chuckle from Jake—he couldn’t help it—and quickly spread to the rest of the group. The mix of surprise and irony was too much for anyone to suppress, especially after Jill’s snarky treatment of Ally. Each moment that passed, someone else added their voice to the growing cacophony of hysterics around her. Jake was bent over, nearly in tears. Olivia covered her mouth with her hand, trying in vain not to laugh, but her eyes already sparkled with amusement. Even Maddie, ever Jill’s loyal teammate in all things social media, was snorting into her hand with roguish glee.

"Oh my god!" Jake cackled between breaths. "Jill, you—you fell in!"

Meanwhile, Jill lay there, utterly shell-shocked, struggling to even comprehend how such a cosmic betrayal had landed her where she least expected to be. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go! She was meant to be sailing smoothly to her car, heading to lunch—completely unblemished and on her high horse. But now, she was sitting in the muck, looking not like the social media queen but more like a lost child in a rainstorm.

Her entire body was tense, anger and embarrassment wrestling for dominance as her cheeks flamed a bright red beneath the streaks of mud. She pushed herself up slowly, one hand sinking comically deeper into the sludge as she tried—and mostly failed—to leverage herself back to a standing position. A thick blob of mud slopped from her knee to her other ankle, making an audible plop as it hit the ground.

"Are you serious right now?" Jill muttered through clenched teeth, mud splattered everywhere, including on her face. She flicked her hair back, only to have more mud fall from it in thick clumps. Her perfect image—her glowing supremacy—shattered.

Ally, now freed from the pit and having wiped a decent amount of mud off herself, stood on firmer ground watching this unexpected reversal of fortune unfold. Her eyes glimmered with something more than a little satisfied. In a moment of poetic payback, she simply couldn’t resist saying:

“Wow, Jill... What a... shame,” Ally echoed with faux concern, mimicking Jill’s exact tone from earlier. Her words were sharp, sweet, and calculated. Ally wasn’t laughing obnoxiously—no, her victory lay in the absolute delicious irony, and she was going to savor every single morsel of this karma.

Jill shot a daggered glance at Ally, preparing to snap—something, anything to save face. But when she looked around for support, she only saw more stifled giggles and wide-eyed expressions of merciless amusement.

Maddie tried, weakly, to offer Jill a towel, the loyalty in her expression tainted by the tremor of struggling not to laugh in her face. "Here, Jill,” she chuckled, “you, uh, might need this…"

Jill slowly cleaned herself off with the towel, but there was no full recovery from this.

"Whatever," Jill spat, standing unsteadily, trying to gather what was left of her dignity. But her voice trembled slightly—more than she’d ever let them know. “It’s just some mud,” she added defiantly, kicking her now-caked Keds with frustration as she squelched toward the grass, leaving behind a trail of sticky footprints. But the damage had been done—Jill had literally fallen into her own smug pit of superiority.

Would she recover? Of course, she would eventually. This moment would fade like all embarrassments do. But today?

There was no doubt about it—the mud pit had claimed its most satisfying victim... and it wasn’t Ally.

Describe Jill’s thoughts as she left. How close she was to leaving completely spotless. Her decision to pull Ally in. Had she gotten so spun around in her enjoyment of Ally’s accident that she didn’t see where she was going?

What did she say to the frustrating laughter? How did she look standing there pouting?

 

[FeedBot]

Describe Jill’s thoughts as she left. How close she was to leaving completely spotless. Her decision to pull Ally in. Had she gotten so spun around in her enjoyment of Ally’s accident that she didn’t see where she was going?

What did she say to the frustrating laughter? How did she look standing there pouting?

As Jill carefully wiped the clumps of mud from her dress with the towel Maddie had handed her, her thoughts were spiraling somewhere between disbelief and sheer frustration. How had this happened?

She retraced the events in her mind as she stood there, the slick muck slowly drying against her legs and sneakers. I was so close. Just five minutes ago, she had been leaving the picnic, gliding effortlessly, spotless, dignified. She’d been right there, moments away from a clean exit—her Keds white, her sundress fluttering in the breeze, her hair perfect. She had orchestrated that flawless visual next to the mud pit, played her role, and even pulled Ally into the thick of it with a mischievous little tug.

Ally.

A bitter taste formed in her mouth at the thought of that moment. She’d really enjoyed it. Watching Ally, usually so indifferent to Jill’s carefully curated world, go tumbling into the mud, those new Adidas completely ruined—that had been delicious. Jill replayed herself acting shocked, asking Ally how she could have possibly fallen in, all while wearing that faux-concerned expression she had perfected. She’d been on cloud nine, savoring how sweetly the tables had turned in that precise second.

But in that very enjoyment—when she was too caught up in her own drama and Ally’s humiliation—she’d stopped paying attention. So spun around in the victory, basking in the superiority of the moment, Jill had done what she hadn’t even realized she was capable of: she hadn’t seen where she was going.

Her mind flashed back to the exact moment. That little patch of uneven ground near the pit’s edge, where the soft dirt had shifted beneath her feet. She saw herself, distracted, staring down at her phone, planning another Instagram-worthy post, maybe adding a smug caption about “being on top.” It was so predictable, really. She should have noticed. She should have looked before she stepped. She always noticed.

But this time?

This time, she hadn’t.

And now? She was the one dunked in mud.

The irony wasn’t just bitter. It was downright humiliating.

The continued laughter around her snapped Jill out of her thoughts. The group—her once-loyal audience—was struggling to contain themselves. She could hear Jake exhale between barely controlled guffaws, Olivia practically doubled over, clutching her sides, and even Maddie, who usually had her back, was biting her lip to avoid full-out cackling. They had all seen it. All of them. Started off the day laughing at Ally, and now, it was her turn to play the clown.

She gritted her teeth, standing awkwardly still in her mud-caked Keds, feeling the squelch beneath her toes as each shift splattered more of the gunk across her ankles. Part of her wanted to shout at them, to demand they stop laughing, to reassert her control over the situation somehow. But what could she say? Jill, the girl who never got dirty, had just face-planted in the muck of her own making.

Despite everything, her natural defensive instincts kicked in. Jill straightened her posture, wiped her muddied hands down the sides of her now-ruined sundress, and shot them a look.

"It's just some mud," she huffed, forcing her tone to sound dismissive and unconcerned. She kept her chin high, trying to reclaim an air of superiority, though the quiver in her voice betrayed the deep crack in her self-assured facade. Sweat mixed with streaked mud on her brow as she glared at Jake, who was still bent over in laughter.

“Yeah, but… you should have seen your face!,” Jake managed to croak out between laughs, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

Jill's face warmed again, the humiliation threatening to ignite into frustration. “I said it’s just mud, okay?” she snapped, her voice taut as she attempted to keep her composure. But her angry pout—the deep, twisted frown on her usually poised lips, the way her eyes darted in frustration—spoke louder than her words. Her arms were crossed now, tightly, as if trying to build a shield against the relentless wave of mockery.

Her lip stuck out slightly, the kind of pout that she’d last worn as a teenager when things didn’t go her way. Except this time, there was no escaping it—the laughter, the reality, the outcome of her own carelessness. She felt small. Smaller than she had in... years. Like she had foolishly stepped directly into the punchline of her own cruel joke.

As Jill shifted from foot to foot, the sopping, muddy dress clinging uncomfortably to her legs, she looked around, still trying to regain her footing in the social arena—even if she had clearly lost it on the ground. How had she gone from the untouchable queen to the fallen? How had her bid to pull Ally into chaos backfired so spectacularly?

Taking a deep breath, Jill steeled herself. She wouldn’t tear up. No, that option was off the table. She wouldn’t give anyone—especially Ally—the satisfaction of seeing her wallow in this. Even though, every shred of evidence was now clinging to her very skin.

“I’m already late for lunch,” Jill muttered, the tension in her face now edging towards frustrated resignation. This has to be over soon, she told herself, her mind already churning over the inevitable day of damage control. A fresh set of clothes at home, an excuse about "getting caught up in park antics"—maybe even turn it into a joke on her socials. A way out. She'd find one. She always did.

But that didn’t stop the image of Ally’s smug, satisfied face from burning in her mind as she finally trudged away, leaving a trail of wet footprints and scattered bits of self-esteem behind her.

As she squelched toward her car, miserably aware of the mud caked into her beloved Keds, Jill had never felt further away from her meticulously constructed image. She walked on, knowing that for the next few hours—until the mud washed off and the photos were posted, carefully reframed—she’d have to sit with a veil of pathetic, sticky vulnerability clinging to her, as tight and as inevitable as the mud that now thoroughly covered her.

And for the first time in a long time, Jill had no snarky Instagram caption ready to explain herself out of this one.

 

[RonR]

As Jill carefully wiped the clumps of mud from her dress with the towel Maddie had handed her, her thoughts were spiraling somewhere between disbelief and sheer frustration. How had this happened?

She retraced the events in her mind as she stood there, the slick muck slowly drying against her legs and sneakers. I was so close. Just five minutes ago, she had been leaving the picnic, gliding effortlessly, spotless, dignified. She’d been right there, moments away from a clean exit—her Keds white, her sundress fluttering in the breeze, her hair perfect. She had orchestrated that flawless visual next to the mud pit, played her role, and even pulled Ally into the thick of it with a mischievous little tug.

Ally.

A bitter taste formed in her mouth at the thought of that moment. She’d really enjoyed it. Watching Ally, usually so indifferent to Jill’s carefully curated world, go tumbling into the mud, those new Adidas completely ruined—that had been delicious. Jill replayed herself acting shocked, asking Ally how she could have possibly fallen in, all while wearing that faux-concerned expression she had perfected. She’d been on cloud nine, savoring how sweetly the tables had turned in that precise second.

But in that very enjoyment—when she was too caught up in her own drama and Ally’s humiliation—she’d stopped paying attention. So spun around in the victory, basking in the superiority of the moment, Jill had done what she hadn’t even realized she was capable of: she hadn’t seen where she was going.

Her mind flashed back to the exact moment. That little patch of uneven ground near the pit’s edge, where the soft dirt had shifted beneath her feet. She saw herself, distracted, staring down at her phone, planning another Instagram-worthy post, maybe adding a smug caption about “being on top.” It was so predictable, really. She should have noticed. She should have looked before she stepped. She always noticed.

But this time?

This time, she hadn’t.

And now? She was the one dunked in mud.

The irony wasn’t just bitter. It was downright humiliating.

The continued laughter around her snapped Jill out of her thoughts. The group—her once-loyal audience—was struggling to contain themselves. She could hear Jake exhale between barely controlled guffaws, Olivia practically doubled over, clutching her sides, and even Maddie, who usually had her back, was biting her lip to avoid full-out cackling. They had all seen it. All of them. Started off the day laughing at Ally, and now, it was her turn to play the clown.

She gritted her teeth, standing awkwardly still in her mud-caked Keds, feeling the squelch beneath her toes as each shift splattered more of the gunk across her ankles. Part of her wanted to shout at them, to demand they stop laughing, to reassert her control over the situation somehow. But what could she say? Jill, the girl who never got dirty, had just face-planted in the muck of her own making.

Despite everything, her natural defensive instincts kicked in. Jill straightened her posture, wiped her muddied hands down the sides of her now-ruined sundress, and shot them a look.

"It's just some mud," she huffed, forcing her tone to sound dismissive and unconcerned. She kept her chin high, trying to reclaim an air of superiority, though the quiver in her voice betrayed the deep crack in her self-assured facade. Sweat mixed with streaked mud on her brow as she glared at Jake, who was still bent over in laughter.

“Yeah, but… you should have seen your face!,” Jake managed to croak out between laughs, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

Jill's face warmed again, the humiliation threatening to ignite into frustration. “I said it’s just mud, okay?” she snapped, her voice taut as she attempted to keep her composure. But her angry pout—the deep, twisted frown on her usually poised lips, the way her eyes darted in frustration—spoke louder than her words. Her arms were crossed now, tightly, as if trying to build a shield against the relentless wave of mockery.

Her lip stuck out slightly, the kind of pout that she’d last worn as a teenager when things didn’t go her way. Except this time, there was no escaping it—the laughter, the reality, the outcome of her own carelessness. She felt small. Smaller than she had in... years. Like she had foolishly stepped directly into the punchline of her own cruel joke.

As Jill shifted from foot to foot, the sopping, muddy dress clinging uncomfortably to her legs, she looked around, still trying to regain her footing in the social arena—even if she had clearly lost it on the ground. How had she gone from the untouchable queen to the fallen? How had her bid to pull Ally into chaos backfired so spectacularly?

Taking a deep breath, Jill steeled herself. She wouldn’t tear up. No, that option was off the table. She wouldn’t give anyone—especially Ally—the satisfaction of seeing her wallow in this. Even though, every shred of evidence was now clinging to her very skin.

“I’m already late for lunch,” Jill muttered, the tension in her face now edging towards frustrated resignation. This has to be over soon, she told herself, her mind already churning over the inevitable day of damage control. A fresh set of clothes at home, an excuse about "getting caught up in park antics"—maybe even turn it into a joke on her socials. A way out. She'd find one. She always did.

But that didn’t stop the image of Ally’s smug, satisfied face from burning in her mind as she finally trudged away, leaving a trail of wet footprints and scattered bits of self-esteem behind her.

As she squelched toward her car, miserably aware of the mud caked into her beloved Keds, Jill had never felt further away from her meticulously constructed image. She walked on, knowing that for the next few hours—until the mud washed off and the photos were posted, carefully reframed—she’d have to sit with a veil of pathetic, sticky vulnerability clinging to her, as tight and as inevitable as the mud that now thoroughly covered her.

And for the first time in a long time, Jill had no snarky Instagram caption ready to explain herself out of this one.

Describe Jill retelling this story to her older, less pretentious, sister on the phone later. Have Jill start with her outfit, her plan for a quick drop-in, the staged tug picture, pulling Ally in and her cluelessly walking right into the mud pit as she was making her triumphant exit.

Have the sister respond with each part as Jill tells the story.

 

[FeedBot]

Describe Jill retelling this story to her older, less pretentious, sister on the phone later. Have Jill start with her outfit, her plan for a quick drop-in, the staged tug picture, pulling Ally in and her cluelessly walking right into the mud pit as she was making her triumphant exit.

Have the sister respond with each part as Jill tells the story.

Later that evening, after a much-needed shower and an exhausting attempt to scrub mud out of her pristine Keds (which were now beyond redemption), Jill dialed up her older sister, Sarah. Sarah was, in many ways, Jill’s opposite. Where Jill was about presentation, perfection, and social media finesse, Sarah was more laid back, practical, and the kind of woman who would wear mismatched socks and genuinely not care. They got along well enough but had vastly different perspectives on, well, everything.

Jill let out a long breath as the phone rang. This was going to be a hard one to explain. When Sarah answered, her voice came through the phone, warm but skeptical as if she already sensed something was up.

"Hey, Jill," Sarah said. "What's going on? You don't usually call me after you've been with your friends. Rough day?"

Jill closed her eyes and leaned against her bedroom headboard. "You have no idea," she groaned, already feeling the lifetime of mockery coming her way. "It was supposed to be a quick drop-in, but I swear, everything went wrong, Sarah."

Sarah chuckled softly on the other end, her laugh always carrying a casual dismissiveness that somehow made Jill both comforted and annoyed. "Alright, then. Start from the beginning. What happened, Miss Picture Perfect?"

Jill sighed and stared up at the ceiling, piecing the story together in her head.

“Okay, so, first off,” she began, “I looked amazing. I had this adorable pink checkered sundress on, with brand new white Keds. Not a single smudge on them. My hair was up with a floral clip, we’re talking Instagram-worthy-level cute. I was just popping by, you know? Because I have that lunch with his parents, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Sarah said, her tone teasing. “So, like... a casual, low-key vibe, super understated. Right.”

“Okay, fine,” Jill admitted. “Maybe not low-key, but you know I had to make an impression. I thought I could do a quick drop-in at the picnic, snap a few pictures so everyone knows I was there, then head off to lunch looking cute and completely spotless. The timing was perfect.”

“Sounds like a classic Jill move,” Sarah chimed in. "But I'm guessing there was more to it than just 'pop in and pop out,' huh?"

“Of course, there was more!” Jill huffed, starting to warm to the storytelling. “We’d planned this tug-of-war game, right? And the guys dug this gross mud pit, but I wasn’t going to get involved. Naturally. I mean, can you picture me in the mud before lunch with his parents? No way!”

“Obviously,” Sarah said, deadpan. “Princess Jill covered in mud—perish the thought.”

Jill ignored the tease, pressing on. “But I had this brilliant idea. I told everyone to line up for the tug-of-war, but I’d stand in just for a photo. You know, something like ‘preppy girl ready for war,’ but without getting all... muddy.”

There was a small pause on Sarah’s end. "Oh, Jill. I can already see where this is headed."

Jill rolled her eyes. “No, no, listen! The photo came out great! I got my spot, avoided the pit, did my pose, even got all the likes I wanted. But then… then I noticed Ally.”

“Oh dear god,” Sarah murmured, sensing where things were going.

“You know how she is," Jill went on, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "She was right across from me, standing way too close to that mud pit in her brand-new Adidas Sambas—like, who does that?”

“Aww, the Sambas,” Sarah mused. “Poor Ally.”

Jill’s lips curved into a small smirk, remembering. “And I just… couldn’t resist. She wasn’t paying attention, so I gave the rope a little tug—and, well, down she went, straight into the mud. Totally ruined. Shoes and everything.”

Sarah let out a low whistle. “Jill, you tugged her into the mud? That’s diabolical, even for you.”

“She deserved it,” Jill insisted, though even she knew Ally hadn’t exactly done anything at that moment to provoke her. The fun had just... presented itself. "And, for the record, I acted so concerned. I was like, ‘Oh my god, Ally! How could you fall like that?’ Totally convincing.”

"Mm-hmm. So I assume she bought your total sincerity," Sarah said, thoroughly unconvinced herself.

Jill groaned. “She didn’t say anything, but whatever. Anyway, I was feeling so good, right? I’d gotten my photos, pulled off the perfect move, and it was time to leave with zero mess. But... then it happened.”

Sarah chuckled again. “Here it comes.”

“I was too busy checking my phone,” Jill confessed, her voice quieter now, like admitting her mistake out loud made it worse. "I was walking back to my car, thinking about captions, totally distracted. And... I didn’t see the edge.”

"Wait..." Sarah cut in. "The edge? You didn’t."

“I did,” Jill groaned. “I tripped... right into the mud pit. Face-first.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on Sarah’s end before she broke out into uncontrollable laughter. The kind of deep, belly laugh that Jill knew her sister could keep going for ages.

“Oh. My. God,” Sarah finally managed to say between laughs. “You fell in? After all of that? Oh, Jill. That is... priceless.”

Jill sank against her pillows, pouting. “It wasn’t funny, Sarah! I was covered. My Keds, my dress—everything was just... wrecked. And Ally had this look on her face like she’d just won some silent victory.”

“You did kind of set yourself up for that,” Sarah wheezed, still laughing. “Oh god, you spent the whole time feeling superior and pulled her in, and then... you followed. It’s like one of those Karma Instagram quotes you post.”

“Stop laughing!" Jill groaned, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips at how ridiculous the whole thing sounded when she said it out loud.

“I’m dying over here,” Sarah snorted. “You fell in your own triumph! And you sounded so proud of pulling Ally in—and BAM! You were in worse shape than her.”

Jill rolled her eyes, but she chuckled a little, despite herself. “Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But I was this close to leaving completely spotless. I mean, you should’ve seen my outfit before everything.”

“Sure, Jill, I’m sure your outfit was stunning,” Sarah teased good-naturedly. "But face it: you got outsmarted by your own clumsiness. That’s hilarious, sis."

“Next time,” Jill sighed dramatically with a hint of her characteristic flair, “I’ll actually watch where I’m going.”

“Yeah,” Sarah shot back, still laughing. “Or, you know, maybe leave people out of the mud pits before you tempt fate next time.”

“Yeah, yeah, lesson learned,” Jill muttered, but she couldn’t help but laugh along with her sister now. It was one of those moments she dreaded as it happened, but in the end, she figured it’d be one for the books. Or Instagram. Eventually.

 

[RonR]

Later that evening, after a much-needed shower and an exhausting attempt to scrub mud out of her pristine Keds (which were now beyond redemption), Jill dialed up her older sister, Sarah. Sarah was, in many ways, Jill’s opposite. Where Jill was about presentation, perfection, and social media finesse, Sarah was more laid back, practical, and the kind of woman who would wear mismatched socks and genuinely not care. They got along well enough but had vastly different perspectives on, well, everything.

Jill let out a long breath as the phone rang. This was going to be a hard one to explain. When Sarah answered, her voice came through the phone, warm but skeptical as if she already sensed something was up.

"Hey, Jill," Sarah said. "What's going on? You don't usually call me after you've been with your friends. Rough day?"

Jill closed her eyes and leaned against her bedroom headboard. "You have no idea," she groaned, already feeling the lifetime of mockery coming her way. "It was supposed to be a quick drop-in, but I swear, everything went wrong, Sarah."

Sarah chuckled softly on the other end, her laugh always carrying a casual dismissiveness that somehow made Jill both comforted and annoyed. "Alright, then. Start from the beginning. What happened, Miss Picture Perfect?"

Jill sighed and stared up at the ceiling, piecing the story together in her head.

“Okay, so, first off,” she began, “I looked amazing. I had this adorable pink checkered sundress on, with brand new white Keds. Not a single smudge on them. My hair was up with a floral clip, we’re talking Instagram-worthy-level cute. I was just popping by, you know? Because I have that lunch with his parents, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Sarah said, her tone teasing. “So, like... a casual, low-key vibe, super understated. Right.”

“Okay, fine,” Jill admitted. “Maybe not low-key, but you know I had to make an impression. I thought I could do a quick drop-in at the picnic, snap a few pictures so everyone knows I was there, then head off to lunch looking cute and completely spotless. The timing was perfect.”

“Sounds like a classic Jill move,” Sarah chimed in. "But I'm guessing there was more to it than just 'pop in and pop out,' huh?"

“Of course, there was more!” Jill huffed, starting to warm to the storytelling. “We’d planned this tug-of-war game, right? And the guys dug this gross mud pit, but I wasn’t going to get involved. Naturally. I mean, can you picture me in the mud before lunch with his parents? No way!”

“Obviously,” Sarah said, deadpan. “Princess Jill covered in mud—perish the thought.”

Jill ignored the tease, pressing on. “But I had this brilliant idea. I told everyone to line up for the tug-of-war, but I’d stand in just for a photo. You know, something like ‘preppy girl ready for war,’ but without getting all... muddy.”

There was a small pause on Sarah’s end. "Oh, Jill. I can already see where this is headed."

Jill rolled her eyes. “No, no, listen! The photo came out great! I got my spot, avoided the pit, did my pose, even got all the likes I wanted. But then… then I noticed Ally.”

“Oh dear god,” Sarah murmured, sensing where things were going.

“You know how she is," Jill went on, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "She was right across from me, standing way too close to that mud pit in her brand-new Adidas Sambas—like, who does that?”

“Aww, the Sambas,” Sarah mused. “Poor Ally.”

Jill’s lips curved into a small smirk, remembering. “And I just… couldn’t resist. She wasn’t paying attention, so I gave the rope a little tug—and, well, down she went, straight into the mud. Totally ruined. Shoes and everything.”

Sarah let out a low whistle. “Jill, you tugged her into the mud? That’s diabolical, even for you.”

“She deserved it,” Jill insisted, though even she knew Ally hadn’t exactly done anything at that moment to provoke her. The fun had just... presented itself. "And, for the record, I acted so concerned. I was like, ‘Oh my god, Ally! How could you fall like that?’ Totally convincing.”

"Mm-hmm. So I assume she bought your total sincerity," Sarah said, thoroughly unconvinced herself.

Jill groaned. “She didn’t say anything, but whatever. Anyway, I was feeling so good, right? I’d gotten my photos, pulled off the perfect move, and it was time to leave with zero mess. But... then it happened.”

Sarah chuckled again. “Here it comes.”

“I was too busy checking my phone,” Jill confessed, her voice quieter now, like admitting her mistake out loud made it worse. "I was walking back to my car, thinking about captions, totally distracted. And... I didn’t see the edge.”

"Wait..." Sarah cut in. "The edge? You didn’t."

“I did,” Jill groaned. “I tripped... right into the mud pit. Face-first.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on Sarah’s end before she broke out into uncontrollable laughter. The kind of deep, belly laugh that Jill knew her sister could keep going for ages.

“Oh. My. God,” Sarah finally managed to say between laughs. “You fell in? After all of that? Oh, Jill. That is... priceless.”

Jill sank against her pillows, pouting. “It wasn’t funny, Sarah! I was covered. My Keds, my dress—everything was just... wrecked. And Ally had this look on her face like she’d just won some silent victory.”

“You did kind of set yourself up for that,” Sarah wheezed, still laughing. “Oh god, you spent the whole time feeling superior and pulled her in, and then... you followed. It’s like one of those Karma Instagram quotes you post.”

“Stop laughing!" Jill groaned, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips at how ridiculous the whole thing sounded when she said it out loud.

“I’m dying over here,” Sarah snorted. “You fell in your own triumph! And you sounded so proud of pulling Ally in—and BAM! You were in worse shape than her.”

Jill rolled her eyes, but she chuckled a little, despite herself. “Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But I was this close to leaving completely spotless. I mean, you should’ve seen my outfit before everything.”

“Sure, Jill, I’m sure your outfit was stunning,” Sarah teased good-naturedly. "But face it: you got outsmarted by your own clumsiness. That’s hilarious, sis."

“Next time,” Jill sighed dramatically with a hint of her characteristic flair, “I’ll actually watch where I’m going.”

“Yeah,” Sarah shot back, still laughing. “Or, you know, maybe leave people out of the mud pits before you tempt fate next time.”

“Yeah, yeah, lesson learned,” Jill muttered, but she couldn’t help but laugh along with her sister now. It was one of those moments she dreaded as it happened, but in the end, she figured it’d be one for the books. Or Instagram. Eventually.

Jill asked Sarah why she thought that nobody warned her that she was walking straight towards the mud pit?

What Sarah’s response?

 

[FeedBot]

Jill asked Sarah why she thought that nobody warned her that she was walking straight towards the mud pit?

What Sarah’s response?

Jill had been quiet for a minute, chewing on her thoughts after recounting the whole humiliating spectacle to Sarah. The laughter and teasing had mostly subsided now, and she felt the weight of something else creeping up behind her pride. Something annoying. Something… irritatingly obvious, once she gave it some thought.

She cleared her throat, her next words slower, almost cautious. “Hey, Sarah?”

“Yeah?” Sarah replied, still sounding amused but considerably calmer now.

Jill hesitated, her brow furrowing with the same frustration that had gnawed at her since the whole thing had happened. “Why do you think—" She paused again, as if thinking it over once more. "Why didn’t anyone… you know, warn me?” Her voice carried a twinge of disbelief. “I mean, I was walking straight toward the mud pit, and nobody said anything. Like, they were all right there. They could’ve just… said something. Just one little ‘Hey, Jill!’ or ‘Watch your step!’ or… something.”

The question hung in the air for a moment, and on the other end of the line, Sarah snickered before giving a long, exaggerated, “Oohhh, Jill…” She drew it out, already gathering her thoughts, her grin practically audible.

Jill frowned, already feeling defensive. “What? What’s that tone for?”

“Well,” Sarah started, and Jill could tell by the shift in her voice that whatever was coming next was going to sting a little. “If I had to guess? I think it’s just, you know… the whole ‘You, Queen of the Tug-of-War Tug’ thing you got going on. You kinda… set yourself up for that, Jilly.”

Jill blinked, sitting upright. “What do you mean I set myself up? I didn’t—”

“Oh, come on,” Sarah interrupted, laughing under her breath. “You practically pulled all the attention towards your big, ‘I’m taking this picture and then gracefully leaving unscathed while Ally’s drowning in the mud’ act. People were probably watching you with, like, popcorn at that point, thinking, ‘Is she seriously not looking where she’s going?’ I bet they thought you were going to pull some sort of dramatic stunt next.”

Jill scoffed, even though something about what Sarah said—popcorn and all—made her feel a little… small. She crossed her arms defensively, her mouth tugging into a frown. “It was an innocent little tug. And I wasn’t going to fall—that just happened! It wasn’t, like, some big moment of fate.”

Sarah let out another chuckle. “Okay, hear me out, Jilly. You were walking around like you were untouchable. You weren’t just living in that moment, you were practically writing the narrative for it in your head. That’s why they didn’t stop you. They probably thought to themselves, ‘She’s got this under control’... or better yet, they assumed it was all part of your typical Instagram-perfect exit plan.”

Jill’s frown deepened. “But—”

“And,” Sarah cut in, her tone now more matter-of-fact, “they didn’t say a word because no one wanted to be the one to break the illusion. Trust me, there was probably this collective understanding: ‘Just let her walk right into it.’” She started laughing again, unable to hold it in. “And honestly, after you pulled that move on Ally? I’m sure some of them thought, ‘You know what? This is karma kicking in early.’”

Jill groaned audibly. “So you’re saying all of them—like, every single one of them—just kind of watched me walk straight into my own mess, like it was some kind of show?”

Sarah laughed harder. “Yes! Exactly! They were watching the inevitable drama unfold! You set the stage, but you forgot to turn around. It’s like when the villain in a movie dramatically turns their back on the hero, and you just know what’s gonna happen next.”

Jill grumbled, sliding further down her bed, her stomach sinking slightly at the idea that everyone had been in on the "inevitable" fate of it all, except her. “Great… so I was, what, the villain in this story?”

“Not the villain exactly,” Sarah said, still trying to catch her breath from all the laughing. “More like the… tragic comic figure? You know. The character who gets a little too caught up in their own clever plan and ends up sitting in mud. Literally.”

“That is… so unfair,” Jill muttered, pressing her fingers over her eyes. “They all just stood there and waited. And laughed.”

Sarah's voice softened now, some sympathy creeping in. “Look, Jill. You know how people are, especially when things like that start to happen in real time. At some point, it’s, like, unstoppable. No one says anything when they think the person is so caught up in their own moment, especially if they know what’s coming. And let’s be real… of course they laughed. Sometimes you have to just let life knock people down a peg. Even you.”

Jill sighed heavily, but a reluctant smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She couldn’t pretend any longer—even she had to admit that, in hindsight, the situation was kind of… inevitable, for lack of a better word. She was in her own little bubble, parading victory, and yeah… her fall was probably what everyone had expected when she stopped paying attention.

"Okay, fine," Jill admitted, her voice weary but tempered by vulnerability. "I'll give you that one. But I still think, just maybe, one person could’ve been like, ‘Jill, heads up!’ Nothing huge, just—"

Sarah interrupted, laughing again. “Jilly, no! That would’ve ruined everything. It wouldn’t have been nearly as iconic.”

Jill groaned again, but this time she let herself laugh, too. “Iconic, huh? That's one way to put it.”

“There you go,” Sarah said, satisfied with the conversation’s conclusion. “Now you’re seeing the bigger picture. The tragic but iconic picture. And hey, at least it’ll make one hell of an Instagram post once it stops stinging.”

Jill sighed heavily, her laugh coming out on the tail end. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe I'll even caption it, ‘Watch your step.’ It's fitting.”

“Now you’re thinking in meme terms. Proud of you.” Sarah teased lightly. “And hey—next time? Leave the tugging to someone else. Maybe fate won’t tug you in right after.”

“Very funny,” Jill shot back playfully. “But point taken…”

And with that, the two sisters laughed together, knowing full well that sometimes, even the best-laid plans—and picture-perfect moments—ended up face-first in the mud.

 

[RonR]

Jill had been quiet for a minute, chewing on her thoughts after recounting the whole humiliating spectacle to Sarah. The laughter and teasing had mostly subsided now, and she felt the weight of something else creeping up behind her pride. Something annoying. Something… irritatingly obvious, once she gave it some thought.

She cleared her throat, her next words slower, almost cautious. “Hey, Sarah?”

“Yeah?” Sarah replied, still sounding amused but considerably calmer now.

Jill hesitated, her brow furrowing with the same frustration that had gnawed at her since the whole thing had happened. “Why do you think—" She paused again, as if thinking it over once more. "Why didn’t anyone… you know, warn me?” Her voice carried a twinge of disbelief. “I mean, I was walking straight toward the mud pit, and nobody said anything. Like, they were all right there. They could’ve just… said something. Just one little ‘Hey, Jill!’ or ‘Watch your step!’ or… something.”

The question hung in the air for a moment, and on the other end of the line, Sarah snickered before giving a long, exaggerated, “Oohhh, Jill…” She drew it out, already gathering her thoughts, her grin practically audible.

Jill frowned, already feeling defensive. “What? What’s that tone for?”

“Well,” Sarah started, and Jill could tell by the shift in her voice that whatever was coming next was going to sting a little. “If I had to guess? I think it’s just, you know… the whole ‘You, Queen of the Tug-of-War Tug’ thing you got going on. You kinda… set yourself up for that, Jilly.”

Jill blinked, sitting upright. “What do you mean I set myself up? I didn’t—”

“Oh, come on,” Sarah interrupted, laughing under her breath. “You practically pulled all the attention towards your big, ‘I’m taking this picture and then gracefully leaving unscathed while Ally’s drowning in the mud’ act. People were probably watching you with, like, popcorn at that point, thinking, ‘Is she seriously not looking where she’s going?’ I bet they thought you were going to pull some sort of dramatic stunt next.”

Jill scoffed, even though something about what Sarah said—popcorn and all—made her feel a little… small. She crossed her arms defensively, her mouth tugging into a frown. “It was an innocent little tug. And I wasn’t going to fall—that just happened! It wasn’t, like, some big moment of fate.”

Sarah let out another chuckle. “Okay, hear me out, Jilly. You were walking around like you were untouchable. You weren’t just living in that moment, you were practically writing the narrative for it in your head. That’s why they didn’t stop you. They probably thought to themselves, ‘She’s got this under control’... or better yet, they assumed it was all part of your typical Instagram-perfect exit plan.”

Jill’s frown deepened. “But—”

“And,” Sarah cut in, her tone now more matter-of-fact, “they didn’t say a word because no one wanted to be the one to break the illusion. Trust me, there was probably this collective understanding: ‘Just let her walk right into it.’” She started laughing again, unable to hold it in. “And honestly, after you pulled that move on Ally? I’m sure some of them thought, ‘You know what? This is karma kicking in early.’”

Jill groaned audibly. “So you’re saying all of them—like, every single one of them—just kind of watched me walk straight into my own mess, like it was some kind of show?”

Sarah laughed harder. “Yes! Exactly! They were watching the inevitable drama unfold! You set the stage, but you forgot to turn around. It’s like when the villain in a movie dramatically turns their back on the hero, and you just know what’s gonna happen next.”

Jill grumbled, sliding further down her bed, her stomach sinking slightly at the idea that everyone had been in on the "inevitable" fate of it all, except her. “Great… so I was, what, the villain in this story?”

“Not the villain exactly,” Sarah said, still trying to catch her breath from all the laughing. “More like the… tragic comic figure? You know. The character who gets a little too caught up in their own clever plan and ends up sitting in mud. Literally.”

“That is… so unfair,” Jill muttered, pressing her fingers over her eyes. “They all just stood there and waited. And laughed.”

Sarah's voice softened now, some sympathy creeping in. “Look, Jill. You know how people are, especially when things like that start to happen in real time. At some point, it’s, like, unstoppable. No one says anything when they think the person is so caught up in their own moment, especially if they know what’s coming. And let’s be real… of course they laughed. Sometimes you have to just let life knock people down a peg. Even you.”

Jill sighed heavily, but a reluctant smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She couldn’t pretend any longer—even she had to admit that, in hindsight, the situation was kind of… inevitable, for lack of a better word. She was in her own little bubble, parading victory, and yeah… her fall was probably what everyone had expected when she stopped paying attention.

"Okay, fine," Jill admitted, her voice weary but tempered by vulnerability. "I'll give you that one. But I still think, just maybe, one person could’ve been like, ‘Jill, heads up!’ Nothing huge, just—"

Sarah interrupted, laughing again. “Jilly, no! That would’ve ruined everything. It wouldn’t have been nearly as iconic.”

Jill groaned again, but this time she let herself laugh, too. “Iconic, huh? That's one way to put it.”

“There you go,” Sarah said, satisfied with the conversation’s conclusion. “Now you’re seeing the bigger picture. The tragic but iconic picture. And hey, at least it’ll make one hell of an Instagram post once it stops stinging.”

Jill sighed heavily, her laugh coming out on the tail end. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe I'll even caption it, ‘Watch your step.’ It's fitting.”

“Now you’re thinking in meme terms. Proud of you.” Sarah teased lightly. “And hey—next time? Leave the tugging to someone else. Maybe fate won’t tug you in right after.”

“Very funny,” Jill shot back playfully. “But point taken…”

And with that, the two sisters laughed together, knowing full well that sometimes, even the best-laid plans—and picture-perfect moments—ended up face-first in the mud.

Sarah asked Jill how new the outfit was and whether any of it was salvageable. Describe Jill’s response.

Jill asked Sarah, Be honest would you have laughed if you were there? What would you have been thinking as I was walking obliviously to the mud?

 

[FeedBot]

Sarah asked Jill how new the outfit was and whether any of it was salvageable. Describe Jill’s response.

Jill asked Sarah, Be honest would you have laughed if you were there? What would you have been thinking as I was walking obliviously to the mud?

As the laughter between the two sisters started to die down, Sarah’s voice turned teasingly curious, “Alright, Jilly. Be honest—how new was the outfit? And… did anything survive? Or is this a total fashion casualty?”

Jill groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes even though Sarah couldn’t see it. “Ugh, don’t even get me started.” She shifted in her bed, pulling at the corner of her duvet in frustration. “I bought the sundress literally two days ago. It was fresh out of the bag! And my Keds? The first time wearing them! I was trying to break them in today.”

Sarah let out a sympathetic “Ooooh,” but Jill could tell her sister was grinning—enjoying this just a little too much.

“I mean, I’m half afraid to even look at what’s left of the dress,” Jill continued, her voice rising in exasperation. “The mud was everywhere. I rinsed it off right after I got home, but it’s… It’s not looking good.”

She sighed deeply, as if mourning the loss of the perfect outfit. “There’s this gross brown stain on the back of it, and I don’t know if it’ll ever come out. The fabric’s so soft—like, how do you get mud out of that?”

“And the shoes?” Sarah asked, though she probably already guessed the answer.

Jill let out a defeated noise. “The Keds are toast. In fact, they’re still by the door, covered in mud. I haven’t even looked at them since I got home. I might as well bury them.”

Sarah gave a mock gasp. “Not the pristine white Keds! A tragedy for the fashion world.”

“Don’t joke.” Jill gave an exaggerated sniff, trying to make light of it, but there was actual sadness in her tone. “I was so excited to debut them. But now? Ruined. Completely."

Sarah’s voice softened a bit, though there was still a playful edge. “I’m guessing the mud pit won this round, huh?”

“Completely,” Jill muttered, her voice resigned.

For a moment, both of them were quiet, until Jill couldn’t help herself. She needed to know. “Hey, Sarah?”

“Yeah?”

“Be honest,” Jill said carefully, her voice undercut by a small, vulnerable laugh. “Would you have laughed if you were there? Like, seeing me just walking obliviously toward the mud pit? What would you have been thinking?”

There was a pause as Sarah considered her answer, then she let out a slow, very deliberate sigh. “Oh, Jill… come on. Of course I’d have laughed! Are you even asking?”

Jill groaned loudly on the other end, prompting Sarah to continue.

“I mean—just picture it! You, strutting around like queen bee, your dress all flowy, those crisp white shoes shining in the sun. You were completely in your own little world, probably thinking about the perfect captions for your post, right?”

Jill didn’t argue, because that was exactly what had happened.

“And there you were—walking straight into this giant, obvious mud pit that everyone else could see from a mile away,” Sarah continued, clearly enjoying painting the mental picture. “If I’d been there, I would have been crying laughing. Watching you not even realize what was about to happen… It would’ve been priceless.”

Jill groaned again, burying her face in her free hand—even if no one was there to witness her embarrassment, it still burned. “So, you would’ve just, what? Let me fall? Not even warn me?”

Sarah didn’t hesitate. “Oh, absolutely. No warning. No way. I’d have been too busy watching the drama unfold. And honestly—after you tugged Ally into the mud? I’d have been thinking, ‘Oh man, she set herself up for this one.’”

Jill opened her mouth to protest but couldn’t stop herself from laughing at just how perfectly that summed up the entire situation. “Wow, thanks for the support, sis.”

“I mean, I’d have helped after,” Sarah added, chuckling. “But only after I got my fill of the moment.”

Jill smiled, shaking her head. “I guess I deserved that, huh?”

“Just a little,” Sarah replied, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. “But hey, at least now you know. Always look where you’re going, royal highness.”

Jill sighed, deciding to change the subject. “So… you think I should bother trying to save that dress, or…?”

Sarah laughed, and the sound made Jill feel just a bit lighter. “Let it go, sis. Some casualties just need to be mourned. And this? This is one of them.”

As much as Jill hated to admit it, Sarah had a point.

 

[RonR]

As the laughter between the two sisters started to die down, Sarah’s voice turned teasingly curious, “Alright, Jilly. Be honest—how new was the outfit? And… did anything survive? Or is this a total fashion casualty?”

Jill groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes even though Sarah couldn’t see it. “Ugh, don’t even get me started.” She shifted in her bed, pulling at the corner of her duvet in frustration. “I bought the sundress literally two days ago. It was fresh out of the bag! And my Keds? The first time wearing them! I was trying to break them in today.”

Sarah let out a sympathetic “Ooooh,” but Jill could tell her sister was grinning—enjoying this just a little too much.

“I mean, I’m half afraid to even look at what’s left of the dress,” Jill continued, her voice rising in exasperation. “The mud was everywhere. I rinsed it off right after I got home, but it’s… It’s not looking good.”

She sighed deeply, as if mourning the loss of the perfect outfit. “There’s this gross brown stain on the back of it, and I don’t know if it’ll ever come out. The fabric’s so soft—like, how do you get mud out of that?”

“And the shoes?” Sarah asked, though she probably already guessed the answer.

Jill let out a defeated noise. “The Keds are toast. In fact, they’re still by the door, covered in mud. I haven’t even looked at them since I got home. I might as well bury them.”

Sarah gave a mock gasp. “Not the pristine white Keds! A tragedy for the fashion world.”

“Don’t joke.” Jill gave an exaggerated sniff, trying to make light of it, but there was actual sadness in her tone. “I was so excited to debut them. But now? Ruined. Completely."

Sarah’s voice softened a bit, though there was still a playful edge. “I’m guessing the mud pit won this round, huh?”

“Completely,” Jill muttered, her voice resigned.

For a moment, both of them were quiet, until Jill couldn’t help herself. She needed to know. “Hey, Sarah?”

“Yeah?”

“Be honest,” Jill said carefully, her voice undercut by a small, vulnerable laugh. “Would you have laughed if you were there? Like, seeing me just walking obliviously toward the mud pit? What would you have been thinking?”

There was a pause as Sarah considered her answer, then she let out a slow, very deliberate sigh. “Oh, Jill… come on. Of course I’d have laughed! Are you even asking?”

Jill groaned loudly on the other end, prompting Sarah to continue.

“I mean—just picture it! You, strutting around like queen bee, your dress all flowy, those crisp white shoes shining in the sun. You were completely in your own little world, probably thinking about the perfect captions for your post, right?”

Jill didn’t argue, because that was exactly what had happened.

“And there you were—walking straight into this giant, obvious mud pit that everyone else could see from a mile away,” Sarah continued, clearly enjoying painting the mental picture. “If I’d been there, I would have been crying laughing. Watching you not even realize what was about to happen… It would’ve been priceless.”

Jill groaned again, burying her face in her free hand—even if no one was there to witness her embarrassment, it still burned. “So, you would’ve just, what? Let me fall? Not even warn me?”

Sarah didn’t hesitate. “Oh, absolutely. No warning. No way. I’d have been too busy watching the drama unfold. And honestly—after you tugged Ally into the mud? I’d have been thinking, ‘Oh man, she set herself up for this one.’”

Jill opened her mouth to protest but couldn’t stop herself from laughing at just how perfectly that summed up the entire situation. “Wow, thanks for the support, sis.”

“I mean, I’d have helped after,” Sarah added, chuckling. “But only after I got my fill of the moment.”

Jill smiled, shaking her head. “I guess I deserved that, huh?”

“Just a little,” Sarah replied, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. “But hey, at least now you know. Always look where you’re going, royal highness.”

Jill sighed, deciding to change the subject. “So… you think I should bother trying to save that dress, or…?”

Sarah laughed, and the sound made Jill feel just a bit lighter. “Let it go, sis. Some casualties just need to be mourned. And this? This is one of them.”

As much as Jill hated to admit it, Sarah had a point.

Sarah asks Jill, “I’ve worn Keds before and they are pretty comfortable. How do they feel filled with water and mud? Were you wearing some no she socks? How did they fare?”

Describe Jill’s response.

Sarah asked whether Jill ever made it to lunch. What was her answer? Did she change clothes? Into what?

 

[FeedBot]

Sarah asks Jill, “I’ve worn Keds before and they are pretty comfortable. How do they feel filled with water and mud? Were you wearing some no she socks? How did they fare?”

Describe Jill’s response.

Sarah asked whether Jill ever made it to lunch. What was her answer? Did she change clothes? Into what?

Jill leaned back against her pillow, anticipating Sarah’s next round of questions, and she didn’t have to wait long before one came in, delivered with Sarah’s signature mixture of genuine interest and teasing amusement.

“I’ve worn Keds before,” Sarah said, her voice already edging toward a laughing tone. “They’re pretty comfy, I won’t lie. But—" she paused dramatically, "how do they feel when they’re filled with water and mud? I need details. And… were you wearing any of those ‘no-show’ socks? How’d they fare?”

Jill let out an exaggerated groan, partly because she didn’t want to relive that particular part and partly because she knew Sarah was just waiting for the gory details.

“Oh my god, don’t even remind me!” she exclaimed, adjusting her position, squeezing the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Okay… First of all, yes—I had on my brand-new no-show socks. They were those cute little ones with the silicone grip on the heel, you know what I mean?”

“Mmmhmm,” Sarah responded, clearly waiting for the moment it all went south.

“Well, let me tell you, when I hit that mud, the first thing I felt—before I even realized what had happened—was this icy wet feeling creeping into my shoes. It was disgusting. I could feel the mud seeping between my toes, and those socks? Ugh. They were soaked. Immediately.”

Sarah let out a snort. “Ahh, the classic ‘wet sock’ misery. It’s worse than the mud itself!”

Jill nodded vigorously, though she knew Sarah couldn’t see her. “Exactly! And with every step after that, it was like this awful squelching sound with the mud in my shoes. My Keds were totally ruined. They went from crisp white to brown in about, like, two seconds. Oh, and guess what? My no-show socks turned out to be mud-show socks.”

At this, Sarah burst into loud giggles, and Jill couldn’t help but join her despite herself.

“Mud-show socks!” Sarah howled, barely able to contain her laughter. “That’s amazing. I can already hear that gross, muddy squelch noise every time you walked. So glamorous, Jilly.”

Jill threw her head back, exasperated yet laughing along. “They were completely destroyed by the time I managed to get out of the pit. Wet socks are bad enough, but when they’re totally soaked in sludge? Pure torture. And now I’ll never wear those socks or shoes again. I mean, I haven’t officially thrown them out yet, but they’re in shoe purgatory.”

Sarah let out a sympathetic, though still amused, chuckle. "RIP to the fashion ensemble. Now I have to know… did you actually make it to lunch with his parents after all this? Or did the mud pit take you down for the count?”

Jill groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Ugh, barely. So, get this—after I somehow dragged myself out of that sea of mud and got home, I was scrambling for time. I had maybe thirty minutes before I was supposed to be at lunch."

“Thirty minutes?!” Sarah gasped mockingly. “What did you even do?”

“Yup, thirty miserable minutes,” Jill replied. “I had to throw myself in the shower, like, super fast, trying to wash mud out of places I didn’t even know mud could reach. And then—oh my god, Sarah—I realized I had no idea what to wear anymore. My whole outfit plan was ruined.”

“So what did you end up changing into?” Sarah asked, clearly entertained.

“I was running out of time, and I couldn’t go in anything too casual because, you know, parents. So, I grabbed this plain white blouse and threw it on with a pair of black skinny jeans, and… ugh, I even had to wear those black ankle boots I don’t really like because I didn’t have time to clean off the mud and wear anything else.”

Sarah gasped again, this time in genuine mock horror. “Black ankle boots in this season? How could you?!”

Jill snorted. “Thanks, Sarah, [I’m aware it's a crime.] But I was in crisis mode, okay?”

Sarah laughed more. “It’s hilarious how much of your life strategy is basically ‘Instagram photo shoot,’ but when the universe throws you in a mud pit, you're pulling out the emergency ankle boots.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t my finest hour.” Jill rolled her eyes but couldn’t help grinning at herself. “Let’s just say, lunch was a little less 'picture-perfect' than I’d originally planned.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Sarah teased, still laughing lightly. “How'd lunch go, by the way?"

Jill sighed in mock exhaustion. “Actually, after all that, lunch was fine. His parents were nice—they didn’t even notice the crisis I had just survived. Meanwhile, the whole time I was sitting there eating, all I could think about was how much I wanted to burn those clothes afterward and never wear ankle boots again."

“So let me get this straight,” Sarah mused. “You pulled Ally into the mud, walked yourself right in after her, had to rush home to change, and ended up at the lunch of the season... in a replacement outfit, all while your Keds and 'mud-show socks' lay in disgrace at home?"

“Pretty much,” Jill sighed. “Oh, and add to that—when I was standing on their patio for a group photo afterward, all I could feel was a squelching phantom mud between my toes. Mud PTSD.”

Sarah laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone. “Oh my god, Jill, you’re a disaster... but a disaster I adore. You know, there’s a lesson in all this for you.”

Jill raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

“Next time?” Sarah paused for effect. “Don’t stage a grand exit before fate literally grabs you by the ankle and drags you down.”

Jill chuckled, sighing with begrudging acceptance. “Yeah, okay... lesson learned. Never tempt the mud gods.”

“Exactly,” Sarah said, smugly. “And for what it’s worth, you’ve given me a great story to tell people about my stylish little sister.”

“Oh, great…” Jill mock-groaned. “I’ll never live this down, will I?”

“Not a chance,” Sarah replied with a grin in her voice.

And in that moment, despite the wrecked shoes, the emergency ankle boots, and the mud debacle, Jill found comfort in sharing her ridiculous day with her sister—because at least now the disaster had turned into something they’d both laugh about for years to come.