Chapter 63
Before he could pull back, Roxie was shoving her way between them, all elbows and sharp nails. She wore a shapeless mini-dress that looked like it had been made out of aluminum foil and her dyed red hair had streamers of silver and gold entwined in her usual funky hairdo. Matt thought they might be tinsel and gift wrap curls leftover from Christmas. A drink sloshed in one hand, and her eyes were too bright, as if she’d just been hanging out inside the smoke-filled pothead room for a bit before stepping out into the hallway for a breath of fresh air. Without warning she grabbed him into a one-armed hug, shouted something unintelligible in his ear, then giggled as she threw herself at Vic. Her drink splashed at Matt, who jumped out of the way and managed to escape with nothing more than a splatter of blue Mad Dog on his shoes. “Roxie!” he cried. “You’re drunk!”