Dottie, the sweet, merciful angel with perfect timing that she was, arrived with our food at that precise moment, heading off my impending meltdown.
“Let’s eat up.Afterward, we’ll go to your place and plan your date night look.”
“I imagine you’ll need some time.”Sierra said through a mouthful of french fries.She paused to swallow.“I bet you don’t even know how women are doing their pubic hair these days.”
I choked, my face transforming into a horrified rictus.“I have to style my pubes?”
twenty-four
no pasties needed
Maya
“Absolutelynot.”Irecoiledfrom the scrap of fabric Sierra held up.“That’s a tube sock, not a dress.My tits and ass don’t need to be out; we’re watching a movie, not making porn.”
“They don’tneedto be out, but why not use everything in your arsenal?”
“Sierra, leave her alone.”Andie rolled her eyes at Sierra’s choice of dress.“Let her wear what she wants.”
“Maybe I can wear jeans and one of my nicer shirts?Show a hint of the girls instead of the whole areola?”
Sierra huffed.“Ugh.Fine.But no graphic tees.Books puns are not appropriate date wear.”
That’s what she thought.Book puns were always appropriate.I’d take her advice, though, because if I didn’t, she’d make me wiggle into that elastic band she called a dress, and I’d decided long ago not to wear dresses made from less fabric than my underwear, thank you very much.
After tearing through most of my closet, we settled on wide-leg jeans and a loose, open-back shirt.The style was sexy, but not in a “breaking public nudity laws” way.
“Here.You need to wear these at least.”
I pointed at the minuscule scraps of plastic in Sierra’s hand.“Whatthe hellare those?”
“Duh, it’s an adhesive bra.”She rolled her eyes as if I were the one who was out of my mind.“Obviously.”
“Thatis not a bra.Thoseare flower-shaped stickers.Those”—I wiggled my fingers at the items dangling from her grasp—“are pasties.”She scoffed, but I continued, “Do I even want to know why you have pasties in your purse?”
Sierra, unbothered by my protest, slapped the stickers against her shirt at nipple height and began instructing me on their application.“It’s super easy.Just peel, stick, and voila!It’s bye-bye nipples, and hello luscious, naturally bouncy boobs.”
“Yeah.That’s not happening.”I rummaged through the top drawer of my dresser.“I will not be taping my boobs.”
“It’s not tape.”Sierra rolled her eyes before repeating her earlier explanation.“It’s an adhesive bra.”
“Still, I think I’ll pass, thanks.I’ll wear this lace bralette with a strappy back instead.”
Andie smirked, shooting a look at Sierra.“Told you she’d say no.Not all of us are confident enough to go around with nothing but stickers covering our nipples.”
“It’s not about confidence.It’s about justice.It’s outrageous that men can walk around with their useless man nipples on display, but women are forced to strap their breasts into medieval torture devices in the name of modesty.If it weren’t for the prudes, I’d never wear a bra again.Free the nips!Free the nips!Free the nips!”She chanted, thrusting alternating fists in the air with each word.
Shaking my head, I grabbed the clothes and fled to the bathroom before she whipped her shirt off and tried to live her manifesto in the middle of my bedroom.I had more than enough to worry about without adding a half-naked protest march in my apartment to the mix.
A few moments later, I twirled back into the bedroom with a dramatic flourish.“How do I look?”
“Fine, I guess,” Sierra pouted.“But I’m leaving the dress and theadhesive bra”—she narrowed her eyes, daring me to argue—“in case you change your mind and decide to dress up.”
The joke’s on her.Wearing jeans and a flowy shirt was as dressed up as I got, especially when compared with my usual uniform of leggings and book-related t-shirts.And the best part?No pasties needed.
twenty-five
everything I do
