Page 63 of Iron Hearts

Hell, Dad hadn’t been more than a quarter mile from the house, at the mouth of the development when he’d gone to make his right turn and the guy on the crotch rocket had slammed into him going in excess of a hundred miles per hour.

Dad’s little commuter sedan hadn’t stood a chance. I’d sold my car to help with some expenses – I hadn’t been able to bear the thought of parting with his Jeep. Mom hadn’t even argued. She’d just signed the Jeep over to me when we got the chance; after the estate was settled.

I started up the Jeep and he stood back and watched me go, walking back to the Iron Horse only after I’d turned on my signal to go right, to head up the boulevard to the entrance to my housing development.

I pulled into my driveway to find Mom’s car and my grandparents’ car gone, so they were likely at the beach, playing with the boys and letting my mom indulge in her favorite pastime: sun worshipping.

I sometimes worried about her and skin cancer, but knock on wood – nothing had happened yet.

I went into my room and contemplated what to freaking wear.

I was a girly girl at heart, and loved my skin, so I tended toward whites and bright colors, sometimes pastels. With my blonde hair and blue eyes, I was a real Barbie about it sometimes, but it was fun.

I found a ladies’ cut white tee that was your regular round neck and cap sleeves, but hugged my curves and really showed off the girls. I’d adjusted it at work at the craft store, cropping it using one of the sewing machines on display to create a new bottom hem.

Actually, one of the women had helped me with that bottom hem, and bless her for it, because Isuckedat sewing at the time and was a rudimentary beginner at best. With what I wanted and was asking for, my grandmother wouldn’t have helped, even though she was at sewing levelexpert– I mean, I’d asked, and she’d said the look was way too trashy for me; so I’d found another way.

The tee fit like a dream and showed my stomach above the waistband of my short/skirt combo.

I had several pairs of the short/skirt thing in just about every color they offered them in. They were super stretchy, soft material, that looked like a skirt from the back but in the front, on one side, there was a slit cut into the skirt material to show the front of the shorts on one leg. That side the shorts had a decorative slit across the thigh, and a buckle that showed and flashed as you walked. The look was edgy behind a veil of demure and I freakingloved it.

I went with the dusty pastel pink pair and heard the grumble of Striker’s bike out front just as I let down my hair to brush it out and put it back up.

I opened up my bathroom door and opened up the front door leaving it shut to keep the cats in for now and went back to working on my hair in my bathroom mirror.

“Rarity, you okay?” I heard him call out at the front door as he pushed it open.

“Yeah!” I called around the hair tie I held between my lips and teeth in a subtle pink a bit paler than my skirt as I used both hands to brush and smoothed my hair up into a high ponytail.

He shut the front door behind him and leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb of my bathroom, his eyes wandering up and down me as a slow smile started on his lips amid his deep five o’clock shadow.

“What?” I muttered around the hair tie in my mouth.

“Nothing,” he said. “I like the fit.”

I felt myself blush faintly as I held my hair up with one hand and retrieved the tie with the other, pulling the long shining tail of my hair through the loop and winding it, pulling it through again. I did that three times and pulled things secure and added the pink bow barrette one of my brothers had found somewhere for me and had gifted me.

I clipped it to cover the hair tie and picked up a clear lip gloss and swiped it over my bottom lip, pursing them and rubbing them together, before swiping one more time and stood back to look.

One of the things I loved about these short/skirt things isthey had pockets.I put my lip gloss in my right one and fluffed the skirt back down over the top of it, and voilà. All I needed was shoes and I was good to go.

“You look good,” he said as I turned to go into my room.

I turned and shot him a smile over my shoulder and said, “Be right out, just grabbing shoes and switching purses.”

He nodded and said, “I’ll be out front.”

“K,” I said and I went into my room from the opposite door to my bathroom and dropped onto the edge of my bed. I pulled the shoe organizer out from underneath it and picked my pale pink Chuck’s out. I wore the same white low socks that I’d been wearing at work with my bar Sketchers for comfort, and they were just fine. I slid into the flat, cooler, and more lightweight shoe, and tied the laces.

After my shoes were on and secure, I kicked the shoe organizer back under my bed and stood up, grabbing my wallet and keys off my vanity and taking down my Hello Kitty mini-backpack purse from the hook inside the closet. It was white, and had pink accents and a pink bow by one of her ears, but it also had my name embroidered in pink on the front pocket. It’d been my Christmas gift from the boys and my mom last Christmas and I didn’t have it out much. It matched my outfit, though and was super cute, and I needed something secure for the ride up to St. Augustine.

I dumped my wallet and keys into the main compartment, put my lip gloss in the front pocket where my name was stitched, and swung it onto my back.

It was comfortable and lightweight and would totally do for today.

I went out and met Striker at his bike and did a little twirl for him.

He gave a low whistle and declared, “Very nice!”

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