On a 7-9, Shasta begs for a ride

Shasta gets a little timid plus a little flirty, biting her lower lip, with her hands on her hips. She says, "Could you give me a ride to the liquor store? We need some beer. You can have one when we get back." Her eyes say 'please say yes'.

You smile at her and say, "It would be my pleasure to drive you." She grins widely and bounces on her toes, clapping.

"Oh, thanks."

Sarah looks at you, also smiling, and says, "Thanks, Tom."

You get into the car and Shasta follows, getting in the passenger side. You watch her legs as she get in. You hope you can have those wrapped around your waist at sometime in the next few hours. You drive off toward the nearest liquor store.

"So where are you going to school?" she asks. "Sarah and I go to State. We're Juniors."

"I go to the University of Chicago. I'm in journalism. What about you?"

"Biochemistry, pre-med," she says with a grin. You hope your next doctor looks like her. "Sarah's taking Theater, but she's not at all a drama queen." You both laugh.

You pull into the parking lot of the liquor store, and you both walk in. You head to the cold beer.

"We usually drink Sam Adams," Shasta says. You grab a case and yank it out. "Thanks, Tom." She kisses you on the cheek and takes your arm as you go to the counter. When you get to the counter, she asks the clerk, "Can I get a pint of Cuervo, too, please?"

"Sure, if you've got ID," the clerk says with a smile. Shasta shows her license, and the clerk rings up the beer and the tequila.

She starts to pay and you hand her a twenty. "My treat." She smiles.

You carry the case out and she takes the tequila. When you're both sitting in the car, she cracks the bottle of Cuervo. "Want some?" she says, before taking a gulp.

"Sure," you say, accepting the bottle and upending it for a couple swigs. She smiles and licks her lips. When you hand it back, she takes another, closes it up, and slips it into her purse.