Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“Are you even listening to me?”
I looked at Anisa and sighed. “Are you wearing that?”
She touched her sari, then shrugged. “I was thinking about it.”
My lips twitched. “There was no thinking. You were going to. You’ll see men at this party, Anisa. You have to wear it.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have to.”
Her parents and her future in-laws said she had to. And usually, she was very accommodating.
But the closer her wedding got, the more annoyance she felt, until I was unsure whether she would go along with this wedding or run away and never look back.
“I’m wearing this,” she sighed. “Do you think I’ll stand out like a sore thumb wearing this at a biker party?”
I snickered, then pointed down toward myself.
I was wearing black leggings, a black long-sleeved t-shirt that covered my ass and about half of my thighs, and a black Rogue sweatshirt that was so baggy you couldn’t even tell I had boobs underneath it.
To follow the ensemble up, I was wearing a black pair of sparkly Dr. Martens.
I looked like an angel of death.
And I knew without Anisa stating it that she hated what I was wearing.
“You only need a hat to finish your ensemble.” She rolled her eyes.
I looked around and found a hat, pulling it down low over my eyes.
“Perfect. I’m glad you reminded me,” I joked.
Anisa sighed, long and loud, then said, “You could at least attempt to dress cute.”
I could.
But I didn’t want to.
Mostly because wearing anything ‘cute’ would fuck with my sensory problems.
And, seeing as I was in a social setting, the fewer sensory problems I had to deal with, the better.
“I could,” I repeated my earlier thoughts. “But I don’t want to. Also, this is a biker party, outside. It’s twenty degrees outside. I’m not wearing anything ‘cute’ that will sacrifice my warmth.”
“You’re a wuss.” She laughed.
I was.
I was a huge wuss.
Moving to Texas had been a soothing balm to my tired soul.
The weather here was usually mild during the winter, meaning I didn’t have to almost freeze to death ever again.
“I’m a wuss,” I agreed. “But after spending my entire life growing up doing chores outside in the snow, can you really blame me?”
She shrugged. “I can a little bit. It’s not even that cold out today. It’s fifty-two, not twenty.”
I looked at my watch. “My watch says that it’s supposed to get down to the twenties tonight. Once the sun goes down, it won’t take it long to get there.”
And it wouldn’t.
She knew it.
I knew it.
My cold toes knew it.
“True,” she grumbled. “Does that mean I should bring a jacket?”
I looked at her ensemble.
Though she was dressed head to toe, she was wearing very thin layers.
“I think you should bring it,” I confirmed. “Are you ready? Can we stop at Whataburger first?”
Anisa blinked.
“We just ate Chick-Fil-A not even an hour ago. And you said you wanted In-N-Out tomorrow for lunch. Do you really think that you need Whataburger?” she asked.
Did I?
No.
Would I?
Yes.
See, I was blessed with the perfect metabolism.
I could literally eat anything I wanted, and I wouldn’t gain weight.
But, saying that, I had a great big ass, and a lot of tit.
So though they didn’t gain when I ate like shit for a week and a half straight, they were still overly large for my smaller frame.
Hence why I hid them.
Because why show them off when you’re trying to attract nice men? Not ones that think you have great tits and ass.
“I’m still hungry,” I said. “And if you intend for me to stay at this party any longer than a couple of hours, you need to feed me first.”
She sighed. “Fine.”
So that’s what she did.
I drove to the boonies and she bought me Whataburger at the drive-through.
I took my time eating my food one-handed, which was why I had most of the bag of Whataburger in my hand, and my extra massive Dr. Pepper in the other hand, as we walked together into the party.
My eyes took everything in as we walked.
There was a massive bonfire in the middle of this wooded area that was set to the side of where we’d parked Anisa’s vehicle.
Honestly, if it rained, I was kind of scared if we’d even be able to make it out of said parking area.
Sparsely surrounding the bonfire were cylinders of wood, likely cut straight from a tree, to act as chairs. And on those makeshift chairs were one or two bodies, spread out all around.
Mostly, though, everyone was hanging a bit farther from the fire.
Personally, my ass would be taking up one of those circles of wood, because I could already feel my toes and fingers tingling in response to the cool temperature.
Such was the life for a person with Raynaud’s disease. A disease that was more common in women than men. The disease caused my appendages, mainly my fingers and toes, to go numb in response to the cold. The smaller arteries that supply blood to my skin become narrow, limiting blood flow to my affected areas, during times that it was cold or even when I was stressed.