On a 7-9, they'll come along if you turn them on.

You tell Sarah, "I'm free, love to take you both for a drive or something. It's really nice out for this time of year."

Sarah blinks at you, then looks at Shasta. Some unspoken communication lasers back and forth on their gaze and the twitching of their lips. Sarah looks a question at Shasta, and Shasta nods and tilts her head back at Sarah.

"So, Tom," Sarah says. "I think I know why you want Shasta to come driving."

Shasta laughs and puckers her lips, adding a little wiggle to her hips.

Sarah puts her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow. "But I don't know why you asked me."

"I can tell you look after your sister. She's a free spirit, you're serious. But you're off on break. You should have fun together. And what better chance?" you say.

"Dad's got his Sam Adams," Shasta said. "I've got our Cuervo. What d'ya think?"

Sarah looks at Shasta. Shasta cocks her head back at her sister. This time Shasta's the one to raise an eyebrow.

Sarah looks back and meets your eyes, for the first time seeing that you're as interested in her as in her sister.

You might even be more attracted to Sarah than Shasta. In Sarah's brown hair, stature, and build, and the gentle expression in Sarah's round face, you see a strong echo of her mother Mary Forbes. Mary Forbes, diligent working mom, veteran diner waitress, and prayerful angel collector, but also a regular lesbian booty call for your sister Taylor and an enthusiast for doggie style fucking with you, even if Mary calls it "putting your wiener in me."

"You looking for some fun, too?" you ask Sarah.

"Maybe," she says. "What kind of fun?"

You lean forward and bring your lips to hers. They're warm, soft, and taste of vanilla lip balm. She kisses back, then disengages.

"Oh, THAT kind of fun," Sarah says.

Shasta giggles. "I'll share!" she says.

"Okay, let's go," Sarah says.

"You gonna tell dad?" Shasta asks.

"We got our phones," Sarah says. "I think I have plenty of charge...." She checks. "Yeah, but...Uh. Reception's horrible, like usual. I better tell him something."

Sarah goes back in the house and returns, wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the State U logo on it and carrying another. She hands Shasta the other sweatshirt. "In case it gets colder."

"Yeah, it is December," Shasta says. "What'd you tell him?"

Sarah shrugs. "He's asleep. Let's go."

Shasta and Sarah pile into the front of your old bench-seat car, with Shasta in the middle next to you.