I said for the millionth time, with forced enthusiasm. The truth was, she looked amazing, but she always did. The last ten outfits she’d put on had looked awesome, but she and Holly hadn’t been satisfied. She was wearing black leggings with a short denim skirt, and a loose purple sweater that hung off one of her shoulders. They’d originally tried the outfit without the leggings, but then I reminded them that we were, indeed, going to be outside all night, sitting on low logs, climbing in and out of tents. So, they’d added the leggings even though it covered up what Becca thought was her best asset. Holly and I were in traditional campout wardrobe: Jeans, t-shirts, and hoodies. I had no one to impress and Todd would take Holly in a paper sack, so she wasn’t worried about her outfit either. “Are you sure?” Becca asked, her voice nervous. “Becca, he’s going to think you look awesome. And you don’t want to look out of place, you know, like you’re trying too hard. You can’t exactly wear a clubbing dress to a campout,”
