CHAPTER THREE
Specialty of the House
"Th-thank you, Miss Tamura . . . Miss Vestry." Wanda Luckett wore only a baby doll nightie's powder-blue transparent top. She humped over in the palms-on-knees position. "M-miss Humphrey."
Delinda drank the sight like an aged cabernet. Wine-colored weals wavered across Wanda's flexing rump cheeks. Tears dripped slowly down the soph's sorrowful face.
"Missing an organizational meeting means a lot more when there's only eighteen of us. Remember that," Gerry Vestry advised.
Delinda politically pursed her lips to avoid a smirk. She glanced from Wanda's chubby, gowned teddy bear, Lauren Bearcall, to the day-glo pink poster of a dryad and satyr doing a yin-yang coupling.
College gave a girl the opportunity to collect a lot of nice, friendly junk she cou
