2.
Sandy stood for a few seconds staring at the little lemon sundress in front of her, she thought it was almost too bright, but as she laid it across her bed, it seemed to glow with the same nervous energy brewing in her veins. It was short—shorter than anything she usually wore—and the thin straps felt like nothing more than a suggestion.
She folded it carefully, her fingers trembling slightly. This is the week, she thought. It has to be lit. She had spent two years guarding herself, but the look in Nathan’s eyes at the bar had shifted something inside her. She didn't just want to be a "good girl" anymore; she wanted to be his.
"That’s a lot for a study session, isn't it?"
Sandy jumped, spinning around to see her mother standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a curiou
