Head over to see Sadie.

At every party, you can always count on people that come out of obligation to their friends. They tend to band together in the 'non drinking' section of the party, chilling on the couches and chatting.

It's either that or they go off to sulk somewhere.

Thankfully, Sadie is in the former. She stands out in the crowd, wearing a casual set of shorts and a sleeveless blouse to the usual 'college dressy' the others around her wear. Sadie has claimed one of the larger couches, obliviously fiddling with her smartphone. It has a soccer ball charm dangling off her strap.

You know her because you recognize her. You've seen her heading to practice. She's a jock of some sort, but you can't place the sport.

It's not soccer. They don't use the same field.

You sidle up next to her. Her obliviousness gives you a nice peek at her body. She's lean, athletically built with rather small breasts. You could make assumptions of her sport based on her build... basketball, maybe? She doesn't strike you as a gymnast. Too tall for that. She's gotta be at least 5' 8".

You clear your throat, drawing her attention. She looks back at you, unabashedly giving you a nice look down her shirt. Despite wearing a bra, her tits are perky enough to poke through her shirt. You don't need to be an expert to know she's a B-cup. It's just, they probably look smaller because of her height.

She's not bad looking. Not in the least.

"Hey," she says. "You're the Wingman, huh?"

You regain your composure. She either didn't notice you checking her out... or she doesn't care.