“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
Leslie sighs.
“Come on, Pepper! What about all the hot farmers at the fair? You have to dress sexy!”
I roll my eyes.
“Girlfriend, you know there aren’t any hot farmers. Besides, I don’t think I own anything sexy.”
Leslie grins. “Lucky for you, I have just the thing.”
She jumps head first into her closet once again. I’d thought we were done with this, but then again, my friend is a clotheshorse and we’re never really “done.” While she digs around, I ask, “We’ve never dressed up for the fair before. Why now?”
Her voice is muffled from deep within the depths of the closet.
“Because we’re twenty-two! We’re hot! When we’re forty-five, we can schlump around in sweats. Besides, don’t you think we deserve to have some fun?”
I roll my eyes although she can’t see.
“We do, but I don’t see why I can’t have fun in the outfit I’m wearing.”
“I’m sure you could, but you won’t catch the attention of any hot farmers. Trust me, Pepper. I talked to Antoinette over at Smyth Farms. Remember her?”
“Of course. She was in like all of my classes in high school.”
Leslie giggles from inside her closet.
“Right, well, she’s taken over her family farm, and she said her brothers are coming this year. Remember Brett and Thomas? Those guys are smokin’. I want to look good.” I frown. Brett and Thomas were gangly, acne-ridden teen boys from what I remember. But before I can answer, Leslie pops out of her closet.
“I found the perfect outfit for you, Pep. You’re going to absolutely sizzle.”
Leslie holds up a denim mini-skirt and a tiny crop top. I sigh. Oh god, no. We’re both bigger girls, so her clothes fit me, but still, this is not my style at all. A jean skirt that barely covers my ass is never my style, in fact. And the pale pink crop top is barely going to shield my girls.
“Absolutely not,” I say firmly.
Leslie fixes me with a look. “Hot. Farmers.”
I sigh. There’s no getting out of this. Once Leslie gets an idea in her mind, she rolls with it. I’ll be wearing her clothes whether I like it or not. Reluctantly, I disappear into her bathroom to change. I slip the skirt on over my thighs and butt. It’s a tight fit, but I manage to squeeze myself in somehow. As expected, the shirt barely goes over my chest and sits just above my belly button. Then I step outside and my friend whistles.
“Damn, girl. You look hot. You should dress like this more often.”
I chance a look in Leslie’s full-length mirror, and stop short. Surprisingly, I don’t hate the outfit. It’s more comfortable than I expected, and my curves look genuinely sexy in the tight clothes. I’m more va-va-voom and less beached whale.
“Okay, you win. I look good.”
Leslie beams. “You look great, Pep! Now, let’s go because we don’t want to keep those hot farmers waiting.”
I sigh and steal one more glance at myself before following my friend out the door. This isn’t exactly my kind of outfit, but for one day, I don’t mind being someone I’m not. Who knows? Assuming a sassy, flirty personality could actually turn out to be fun for a change.2PepperMy feet already hurt and it’s only been a couple of hours. I wish we’d driven here instead of walking the mile and a half from Leslie’s house, but we always walk, and this year was no exception.
Leslie grabs my hand excitedly. “Can we ride the Ferris Wheel?”
“You know I’m afraid of heights. I have been, the entire time you’ve known me.”
She sticks out her tongue.
“Come on, it’ll be fun, I promise!”
I sigh. We’ve been on all the other rides here, including the one that definitely doesn’t meet any safety codes. I think they forgot the shoulder harness and the waist strap on that one.
“Fine, but this is our last ride,” I pout.
She lights up. “Yippee!”
We practically skip to the Ferris Wheel line and the ride is nice actually. It seems like we’re soaring above the clouds, and the view is gorgeous. I see acres and acres of green farmland, as well as golden pastures for animals and the shadows of barns and farm equipment. This is my home. This is what I’m used to. I missed Corinthian when I was at Kansas State, and I’m glad to be back in my small town.
When we get off the Ferris Wheel, Leslie sets her sights on the carnival games.
“These are all rigged, you know,” I say in a wry voice. I’m such a Debbie Downer that I have no idea why she puts up with me. But Les merely giggles.
“Yeah, but they’re still fun to play.”
We get to one of those games where you shoot the clown with water and try to win. It’s the only one that’s empty, guaranteeing success for one of us. Suddenly, a voice drawls from behind us.