I started to slip off my shoes when the door creaked open. He doesn’t know you. I put on my best male voice and said, “At least I buy my dates something.”
“Think you’re funny, little wiseass?” said Billy. We could have a–ya know–nice time right here.”
He shrugged. Are you all right?”
I said nothing, just fumed. Too bad it’s because of the same little prick.”
“You’ll just blame yourself.”
“I said yes when he asked me out. Even my imagination failed me. Too much. After a couple of sentences the words in bright red ink formed easily in curly, rounded letters. My cheeks rapidly warmed. Just like the ones I’d been looking at in the Vicky’s Secret window when Billy Mills came along–the whole ensemble, in fact. I closed my eyes, shocked by the rush I got. She worked patiently applying rouge to my cheeks creating just the right contour to my cheekbones. Paint the best picture, I thought.
