I raised my eyebrows. “Should I be scared?”
She rolled her eyes. “And you call me dramatic,” she smirked. “Oasis.”
“The band?”
“You’re funny,” she said sarcastically. “It’s popular on campus, and they get a decent crowd of people. Plus, the drinks are great and the music’s fantastic. What do you think?”
“Okay,” I nodded. “I’m game.”
“Good,” Missy nodded. “We’ll finish off our night there.”
“Are you serious?”
“I have five different bars on my list so far,” she said. “If you want to add a few more, feel free.”
“I don’t know about this…”
“Oh, come on,” she insisted. “You can’t celebrate your twenty-first birthday without getting drunk. It’ll help you loosen up, too.”
“I have been drunk before,” I reminded her. “It didn’t make much of a difference to my personality.”
“Please,” Missy said, rolling her eyes at me. “I was with you the time you ‘got drunk.’ You cut yourself off after two glasses.”
“They were two full glasses,” I said.
Missy’s response to that was simply to laugh in my face.
“Rude,” I said, turning away from her to look through a shelf of econ textbooks. “If you see any books authored by an Eileen Simpkins, let me know.
“This night is going to be epic,” Missy insisted. “And this time, you’re going to have way more than two full glasses.”
I sighed. “I suppose I agreed to this.”
“You did,” she smiled triumphantly. “And, it’s just going to be you and me, so you don’t have to step too far out of your comfort zone.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” I said. “I assume you’re going to make me talk to people at each bar?”
Missy smiled. “How about you just wait and see?”
“Geez, that makes me nervous.”
“Just trust me,” she said, grabbing a book from the third row and handing it to me. “Eileen Simpkins.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the book from her and adding it to my pile. “I’ve already got my outfit picked out, too.”
Missy turned to me and raised her eyebrows.
“What?” I asked innocently.
“What makes you think you get to decide what to wear?”
I groaned. “You’re planning on giving me a makeover, aren’t you?”
“You really are a smart girl,” Missy said, giving me a wink, before turning back to the books.
“Okay fine, I’ll agree to that – except no short skirts or tight dresses or bright colors… Okay?”
She ignored me.