Page 3 of So This Is War
“Was he afraid you might try to intermingle with them?”
“You know him, he’s always worried about me.”
“Probably because he caught Sebastian in the house several times in high school when he shouldn’t have been there.”
I chuckle. “Remember the time Sebastian climbed out the window in his underwear and sprinted down the street just to avoid my father’s wrath?”
“Yes, I still recall seeing him sprint past my house, his long hair flapping in the breeze. He joined track right after that.”
“And became All-American his senior year. He should be thanking me for opening his eyes to his speed.”
Sandie laughs. “Poor Sebastian. I wonder what he’s doing now.”
“He’s in Portland, Oregon,” I answer when I finish my lipstick and sit on my bed across from Sandie’s. “I think he’s working as an assistant coach of a track team, so yeah, he owes his career to me too.”
“You’ve done him favors left and right.” Sandie chuckles.
“Just here to help.” I smirk and take in her dress. “You know, you could borrow one of my outfits. Show off a little bit more breast . . .”
“First of all, my breasts would drown in your dress. And second of all, I don’t want to show breasts like you do.” She points at the strings that crisscross over my exposed cleavage, holding the front of the shirt together. “That’s just asking for trouble. Aren’t you afraid something will slip out?”
“No.” I shake my head. “You know me, I couldn’t care less about being naked. I wear clothes because it’s the law, not because I want to.”
“Hence the top.” She brings her hands together. “Now, what did we talk about?”
I roll my eyes. “That this night is about you and me, and I’m not to go off and try to flirt with anyone. Come on, Sandie, do you really think I would do that?”
“Uh, yes.” She nods.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve matured since the last time you saw me.”
“Says the girl who is not wearing a bra tonight.”
I never wear a bra. “And this top was for you. I wanted to show you how strong fabric can really be.”
“Ah, yes, can’t wait for you to sneeze because that will be the real show.”
I laugh. “Seriously. Just you and me tonight, okay?”
“Okay.”
We both stand, Sandie in her cute red dress that hits her mid-thigh and me in my gold top and wide-leg black pants with three-inch heels.
Sandie looks up at me. “I remember when we used to be the same height.”
“Add some heels to those flats, and we will be.” I link my arm through hers and guide us out of the hotel room. Purses in hand, we make our way to the elevator.
“So where are we going?” Sandie asks.
“I thought we could hit up the bar downstairs for food and then go to a drag show I heard about.”
“Ooo, sounds like fun.” The elevator dings, and we both get on. I press the button for the ground floor as Sandie turns toward me. “What if we run into your dad at the hotel? Do you think he’s going to make you change like he did when we were in high school?”
I laugh and shake my head. “I’m a twenty-one-year-old woman in her first semester of grad school. He doesn’t have that kind of control over me anymore.”
“Says the girl who had to sit in the back with the staff on the team plane.”
“That’s different,” I say. “That was his territory, and I was doing anything to get a ride here to see you. Now that I’m here, it’s free game.”
