“Stop it.”“Ha. You came out.” Holly smiled proudly. “You look fantastic.”I looked down at my outfit for the dance—a fitted plaid shirt with pearl buttons and a denim mini skirt that I’d borrowed from the much shorter Holly. The outfit was way sexier than my usual attire. To top off the look, I’d pulled on an old pair of cowboy boots leftover from high school. I felt like a kid playing dress up.I didn’t dance. Especially to country western bands. On the rare occasion that I’d gone to a club in Seattle, I always sat around with friends, mingling and chatting. I’d never been a dance-until-I’m-sweaty kind of girl. According to what Holly had told me, the Flag Day dances were those kinds of dances.“I look like a prostitute going to a rodeo.” I tugged at my skirt a few times.Holly raised an eyebrow. “You do not.”“Whatever.” I went into the living room where Elliott watched a movie with my dad and Doris. “You still hungry, Dad?”My dad waved me off. “Nope.”Earlier, he’d eaten every last bite of the sausage dog I’d brought back from the park.
