Okay, that's as far as I can remember the song without going to find my red spandex outfit, or maybe a gold lamé bikini. And if I don either my teenage daughter will certainly run away from home.
As you've probably guessed by now, I'm participating in another flash fiction project this month. +Becket Morgan put it together for the +Flash Fiction Project. Here are the images we're using this time (see below the pictures for the piece by me):
It had been that kind of day. Chloë was already running late for school when she found that she had a flat tire. She got the car jacked up, then remembered that the tire she had just removed was the spare tire. By then, she was all hot and sweaty. Her nice new top that she'd worn hoping to catch Alan's eye was now sticking to her back. Definitely not sexy.
She would've skipped class, but if she missed one more time she wasn't going to get credit and she couldn't afford to take the course again. She decided to leave the car jacked up. At least it was unlikely to get broken into if it already looked worthless. She slung her bag over her shoulder and trudged to the bus stop.
The bus, of course, took longer to get to campus than it would've taken to drive, but at least it wasn't crowded and she could look out the windows at the changing leaves as she road. When she got to her stop, she hit the ground running. She burst through the door of her class right as the professor was turning on the projector. She smiled at the professor and waved as she worked her way to one of the last available seats. He didn't return her smile, but she felt good nonetheless. She had made it.
Class was a whirlwind. At least she'd done the reading. The prof seemed to be out to get her today, but she was fielding all his questions. She gave herself a mental pat on the back. He was one of those professors who seemed to delight in finding the student in the room who was under-prepared and grilling them. Today, that wasn't her.
As the students filed out of the room, Chloë heard someone call her name. She turned, not recognizing the voice. It was Alan, the teacher's aide she'd been eyeing. "Hey, Chloë. A bunch of us are getting together at Spanky's. Wanna go?"
Chloë considered. She had never been invited before. She had all of seven dollars in her wallet, but that would buy a drink. The bus ran until 11:00. She smiled. "That sounds good. Why not? The change will do me good."