*Sasha*
The last heat of summer curled the edges of the leaves that blew across the street from trees strategically planted by the city along the sidewalk. Amanda had to hold down her skirt as we clicked high heels on pavement to the bar.
I didn’t have that trouble. My skirt was form-fitting, clinging securely to my slight curves.
Nostalgia’s door swung in easily in the breeze, and the smell of fruity drinks and peanut shells wafted over us.
So did the noise of about sixty standing and sitting patrons. The place was packed, literally and figuratively.
“Let’s split up,” Amanda said, her sharp green eyes picking out places people might be vacating soon.
“Split up? How will we even find each other in this–“
Amanda grabbed my shoulder then and hauled me toward a pair of emptying barstools. We skidded into them just as another pair of girls was about to.
“Sorry,” Amanda said, unrepentantly.
The girls scowled. So far, we weren’t making any new friends.