THIRTEEN
1980Rachel was in the restroom checking her makeup. The false eyelashes were still in place, despite the smokey atmosphere. She pulled the legs of her baby blue hot pants lower on her thighs and slid her go-go boots upward. Looking at herself in the long mirror, Rachel thought she looked groovy. Very hip. Foxy, even.
So far, the night was going well. They had danced many times, far more than most guys would do and, to her surprise, Joe wasn’t half bad. He was especially good at the slow dances, bending her backwards and twirling her around. As the night wore on, she became more impressed with the man than she thought would happen.
After another round on the floor, as soon as they sat down, the waitress came by. “More drinks?”
Joe looked at Rachel. “I’m okay for now.”
“Me, too
