I wrinkled my nose, trying to figure out what he smelled like. Not cigarettes. Something richer, fouler. Cigars.
Becca FitzpatrickAnthony raised his red plastic cup to me and shouted something, but it was too hard to hear over the music. โWhat?โ I called back. โYou look great!โ A goofy smile was plastered on his face. โOh boy,โ Vee said. โNot just a pimp, but a smashed pimp.โ โSo maybe heโs a little drunk.โ โDrunk and hoping to corner you alone in a bedroom upstairs.โ Ugh.
Becca FitzpatrickThe guy I've got my eye on happens to be hot. Off-the-charts hot. Hotter-than-Patch hot.' She paused. 'Well maybe not that hot. Nobody's that hot.
Becca FitzpatrickI called Vee. "How are you doing?" I asked. "Good. How are you?" "Good." Silence. "Okay," Vee said in a rush, "I am still totally freaked out. You?" "Totally.
Becca Fitzpatrick