Lindsay.

"Do you eat here often?" You say to Lindsay in an over the top English accent. Flipping her hair with a toss of her head, Lindsay cracks a smile, and replies that she's trying to bulk up for the wrestling team. You laugh, not expecting a sarcastic retort. Joining her, you slide in next to her at the booth.

"So, what are you going to do this weekend?" You ask.

"Winona's supposed to meet me later this afternoon. We may go to a movie. I don't know." Winona Hammett is a tall athletic girl, with long black hair, dark brown eyes, and a well-toned body with generous breasts. You wonder what Lindsay might say if you ask to join them.

"What are you doing?" She says as she sips her drink.

"I don't know. I might hit a couple of parties I've heard about." Casting a quick glance at her chest, you think you can just make out a plain white bra beneath the thin material of her white t-shirt.

"Maybe you, me, and Winona could hook up later, and go to one of the parties?"

Brushing the salt from the fries off of her hands, and taking the glasses off of her face, Lindsay takes a clean napkin, and polishes the lenses.

"You gonna bring any booze or stuff?" She asks. When you reply that it's most likely you will, she says that the last time she had too much to drink, she couldn't remember what she did the night before, and what she did remember would have given her mother a heart attack if she'd known.

Finishing the last of her meal, she slips a pen out of her purse, and writes down her phone number, handing it to you.

"Call me around 8." She says as she dumps the waste paper from the meal in the trash. Walking towards the exit, she gives you a wave, along with a big smile, and is out the door.