47Cottony fog brightened at the leafy top of a hickory. Lower-lying mist hugged its shadowy trunk.
The early morning air was cool on my bare legs. Today’s temps wouldn’t rise out of the sixties until the sun burned off the fog.
I pulled up the zipper on my black hoodie. Closed it over Vicky’s gray racerback tank top.
Instead of her shorts, I should’ve worn sweatpants like Dawna.
We faced each other on the same stretch of red clay road where she’d Mirandized me two days ago.
The fog muffled car noise from the nearby highway. My zipper rasped loud in the stillness.
Dawna wore Lady Longhorn gear. TEXAS was stamped in black capitals down one leg of her burnt orange sweats.
Her matching pullover flaunted a white silhouette of the school mascot’s head. The steer’s muzzle was centered on h
