a corner of it wet, and wiped up the soda that had seeped through her shirt. She slipped Lance’s T-shirt on and looked at herself in the mirror.

She snorted when she saw the Superman logo in the middle of her chest. Well, somewhat below the middle of her chest, because the shirt swallowed her. The shoulder seams came almost halfway down her upper arms, and the shirt covered her shorts.

She tried pulling the shirt tight around her torso, twisting the extra fabric behind her and tucking it in at the small of her back. She’d seen other girls do that and look cute. On her, she thought it just looked silly. She fidgeted with the shirt some more, folding here, tucking there, trying different things so she didn’t look like a toddler wearing her dad’s clothes. With a huff of annoyance, she gave up and let the shirt hang loose.

“It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone.” Abby reached up and redid her ponytail as she talked to herself in the mirror. “I’ve already dumped soda over both of us and treated the guy to a personal wet T-shirt contest. Worrying about making a good impression on the hot guy sort of went out the window already.”

With that little pep talk, Abby went back out. Lance looked up from his phone and smiled at her. He stood up from the couch. “Ready?”

“Sure.”

Lance opened the door and gestured Abby through, locking it behind him. He jogged to catch up to her to open the car door before she got in.

Abby gave him a confused look. What was with this guy and his insistence on opening doors? She’d agreed to get dessert with him, but it wasn’t like this was a date. He was just bored and didn’t want to be home yet. That’s what he’d said. That didn’t make this a date, right?

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