𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐢. ✭ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑

325 19 77
                                    

NOVEMBER 24, 1984; ABILENE
10:42-11:47 p.m.

Background Music
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-Great Pretender by Dolly Parton-
⇆ㅤ ||◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷||ㅤ ↻

"May I please have a large cup of cinnamon tea?" I asked politely, trifling through my open pink pocketbook. The cash inside was abundant. I didn't realize how much I had all those years ago.

"That depends." The cashier was my age. Tall, male, and classically handsome. A straight girl's dream. Not mine. He was chewing on a stick of spearmint gum. "Can I get your number?"

May I, the proper way of asking me was saying, may I? He grinned at me widely, flashing off his smile. The tag affixed to his work shirt had his name on it.

DANNY

"Let's skip all the banter." Sighing, I tilted my chin to fix the crick in my neck. "No, Danny. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Got it?"

"Got it." The boy's big old smirk had drooped right off of his face. His eyes narrowed in that male manner, the way that makes them look like little wild foxes. He was squinting at me. Something snapped and he began drumming his fingers on the counter. "You a model?"

"Pageant girl." My fingers fished out a few quarters, stacking them on the counter. "Now how about that tea? You think this'll cover it."

Danny puffed up his cheeks before blowing out with an over-the-top exhale.

"Pageant girl?" He swiped up the money, clinking the coins into the register. " Suppose I'll just have to try again the next time you come in, Miss."

"Hmmm, I suppose not." Sugar laced my voice, I tossed the change I received in the tip jar, standing up from my lean on the counter. "Sorry, I'm waiting on someone, Honey. Now, how's about you go on back there and check on that tea for me."

"You got it, Miss." Winked Danny, spinning on his heels to go attend to the kettle. I pressed myself against the back wall, fiddling with the assortment of colored sugar packets on the fixings table.

Chance and I had agreed to meet at that coffee shop that night. If was the perfect place. A cafe in the next town over, dimly lit and scented with the aroma of stale cigarettes. I came cloaked, supplied with a dark hoodie that I wore around my cute little dress. All I had to do was wait...for her.

She gonna come?
Is this too weird?
I wanna take her out.
Everyone takes their girls out, ain't I supposed to do this too?
What if she doesn't come?

I went to bite my nails at the thought. It didn't work. Not with acrylics. My mouth wrapped around my manicured ones for a millisecond before spitting them back out again.

At least those out lezzy's got courage.
They don't need to have shitty rendezvous at ten o' fucking clock at night.

"Oh yes, I'm the great pretender." Was whispered in the curve of my ear. A smile broke into my face. I knew that voice. That vibrant voice had a firm twang. It made a shiver race down my spine.

Twirling around, I met her. She loomed above me in all her glory. There she was with that blonde hair haloing her head. Chance was wearing a little black dress along with a pair of black cowgirl boots.

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