I couldn?t say anything. I was speechless. Then she started to walk away with my drink in hand while I just stood there. Her skirt was so short that I...found myself staring at it hoping for a gust of wind. I stood there in my trance for what seemed like hours. The bartender was saying something, but I couldn?t hear what. Then I felt him tap me on the shoulder, ?Are you going to pay for that or what?? I was shaken from my trance and stammered a bit. Then, I handed him a $10 and. Collapsing onto my dressing table chair, I stared at myreflection ruefully. I always used to think it strange that women wouldrefer to doing their make-up as "putting on my face", but I understoodit all too well now. I was Paul Ripley, but the face in the mirrorbelonged to my creation (or recreation) Eva Schumacher. When wearingmake-up, my face was her face. It was a face I wore more hours every daythan I did my own. I rubbed cold cream into that face, wiping it awaywith a towel to reveal my. Soon, Sasha was asking for me to bring her, her leftover shrimp she'd stuffed into her purse, before leaving the buffet. I wanted some too, so I went to fetch them for her.Rusty had paused their game while we ate. Taking this time to grab a bottle of Powerade. Then as he walked past Sasha, he went to slap down on the shrimp she was putting into her mouth, only instead of slapping the shrimp from her mouth. He'd managed to snag her shirt down, making her 42-DD's plop out. I immediately jumped up. Besides, Anthony's parents were cool, which translates to they gave him lots of cash... a luxury my mom couldn't afford.Two days later we were on our way there. Anthony played his Game Boy Advance most of the trip, and I occupied most of my time by actively working to not get smothered by his mom's luggage. In the failing effort, my head leaned against the side window and, with nothing better to do, I looked out to the road, the strobing yellow lines below, the cars we raced with.There was one.
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