Page 6 of The Pinkie Pact

"So a pinkie pact?"

Her eyes lit up. "Yes. Exactly that. A pinkie pact."

We both smiled as we held out our little pinkies, squeezing them together, taking me right back to grade school.

"Think we can actually do this?" she asked as we released our fingers.

I let out a sigh. "I have no clue. But we don't have much of a choice."

"Well, guess what? We can try out our new rules tonight."

"Tonight? What's tonight?" Did she want to go out again? I was definitely down with that.

"Will you go with me to my mom's fundraising thing?"

"What?" I gasped. "You seriously wantmeto go with you?"

"I do."

"But don't you have other friends who..." My voice trailed off as I remembered what she'd said earlier. "I'd love to."

Her expression brightened. "You have no idea how much I appreciate that. I hate these things with a passion. And you're the first friend I've had in college who's actually presentable. My parents will love you."

I thought back to my reflection in the mirror a bit ago. "I'mpresentable? You must have had some interesting friends."

She sighed. "You can say that again."

"But there's one problem about tonight."

"What's that?"

"I have absolutely nothing to wear," I complained.

She eyed me up and down. "Oh, we can take care of that. I have my mom's credit card just for emergencies like this."

Oh, wow. This could get very interesting. And college hadn't even started yet.

Fundraising Farce

Sky

Hours later, we squeezed side by side to look in the bathroom mirror at ourselves.

"We clean up good," I said, admiring my new black dress. I'd come a long way from the vomit-crusted girl of this morning, although I still felt pretty shitty.

"We look hot," Kara added, her smile smug.

"You do. Not so sure about myself."

She turned to look at me, her face just a breath away from mine. "Are you kidding me? You're stunning." She faced the mirror again. "I wish my hair was straighter like yours."

"What? I was just thinking I wish my hair was more like yours."

Laughing, she adjusted her long, wavy locks over one shoulder. "Well, I wish I had your crystal blue eyes."

"But yours are beautiful," I argued.

"Not as gorgeous as yours," she said as her phone buzzed. "Come on. That's our ride."

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