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“His eyes are pretty!” That certainly wasn’t a lie.
Marc squinted at me but didn’t say anything.
Brandon held up his hands. “Whatever. It’s your turn.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve got to get dressed. You can’t go looking like that.”
Marc went back to the kitchen counter, picking up a couple of plastic shopping bags. He opened one, pulling out a handful of material. “Do you like pink or purple?”
“Neither,” I said. I walked around the other guys to pull at the bag. “What the hell is this?”
“Dresses,” Marc said. “For the party.”
My mouth dropped open. “Nuh uh. No way. No one said anything about wearing a dress.”
“You have to fit in,” he said. He held up one of the dresses, showing me the pink ruffled skirt. “See? This is stuff that girls wear.”
“Maybe your girlfriends wear that.”
“Just try it on.”
“I’d rather light my hair on fire.”
SOCIALITE
Later, I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom with my hair redone with a borrowed comb and my cheeks pinched to create a fake blush. The pink dress had spaghetti straps, and a ruffle around the breasts. It was modest, except for the skirt. I didn’t have any heels. This is what happens when you let boys shop for you. They never remember things like this.
I hated dresses and skirts. They were a luxury I usually couldn’t afford, and it was harder to blend into a crowd in ruffles, anyway. They were meant to draw attention and that wasn’t what I wanted most of the time.
Jeans were durable. Tank tops were about as sexy as I dared to get when I needed a distraction. Boobs were easier to spot for a target because they were closer to eye level, and when I was up close, I wanted to be sure they were looking at my breasts, not lower at my hips, where I’m trying to pull a wallet from a pocket.
I was going to leave my bra on, but the straps were tacky with the pink, so I took it off. The dress had built-in bra cups anyway, but was probably designed for a smaller boobed girl, as it felt tight. The fit at the waist, however, was a little big. I hung my bra over the towel rack. I smashed my boobs with my palms against my chest, trying to stop them from looking so restrained in the gauzy material. No matter how I positioned them, though, I still felt like I was almost spilling out of the top.
I sighed, giving up, and stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing the material. It was itchy against my skin already. If I had to wear a dress, I wished they would have told me so I could have gone with them and picked one myself. Or maybe wouldn’t have agreed to this whole plan so easily.
It’s for Wil, I reminded myself.
Corey was at the computer with Marc hovering over his shoulder. They both turned, staring and blinking for a moment. Corey’s cheeks tinted, his mouth dropping open. Marc smirked.
A catcall came from across the room. I turned to see Raven jumping up. Brandon leaned over on the couch, his head tilted and his eyes landing on the short skirt.
Raven elbow-bumped my arm. “Now this is a Bambi.”
I ignored him and glared at Marc, and gestured to my waist. “See the problem?”
Marc blinked at me slowly. “No.”
“Corey?” I turned to him, trying to stifle my indignation over being in a dress in the first place. “Could you stand next to me for a second?”
Corey stepped up beside me, his fingers drumming on his thighs. “Where?”
I guided him by the shoulders to make him stand in front of me. My toes itched on the carpet. I usually didn’t have anyone to practice on, so this was awkward. I spotted his wallet in his left back pocket. “Just stay still,” I said. “Look forward at Marc.”
Corey did. I took a few steps back, breathed slow. I walked forward.
Bump.
Hand drop.
I faked a blush as Corey turned his head. “Excuse me.” I emphasized with batting eyelashes.
At the same time, I pulled the wallet, and made sure my hip stayed pressed to his as I did, lessening the effect of the lift out.
But when his wallet was out, all I had to hide it with was my back turned to him. I stepped away, with my hand behind my back and then turned to Marc. “See? Now I look suspicious. My hand behind my back is obvious, and I don’t have a place to deposit the wallet. And anyone standing behind me is going to notice.”
“What if I’m standing nearby?” Brandon asked. “You could hand it off to me.”
I thought about it. “Come stand next to Corey,” I said.
He stood next to his brother, nearly arm to arm. After seeing them like this, I shook my head. “Never mind. That won’t work.” I snagged Brandon by the elbow, dragging him to stand behind me. “You’ll have to follow right behind me. Let me feel your pockets?”
Brandon’s ears turned red. “What?”
I dropped a hand on his hip, sliding my palm down until I felt the front of his thigh and the size of his side pocket. I slipped a hand inside, feeling the inside space. “It’s tight.” I slid my hand back, reaching for his butt pocket. There was a button and I opened it, feeling around. “Sorry,” I said. “Nice butt though.”
Brandon smirked, and wriggled his eyebrows at his brother. “You might have the eyes, but I’ve got the butt.”
Even with the back pocket open, I was having more doubts. This wasn’t just lifting and putting another wallet back. This was also passing off to someone else. This was not my regular modus operandi, and that concerned me—I always worked alone. “It’ll depends on how big his wallet is.” I pointed to the corner. “Stand over there. Count off. Try to pass right by me and reach out just after to collect it. If we don’t time it just right, it’ll be too obvious to anyone watching what we’re up to.”
It took a few tries, but we timed it so Brandon walked right behind me when I made the switch. Corey felt the hip tap and then nothing, and I was there with empty hands afterwards.
“Now I just need a second wallet,” I said.
Marc pulled several out of the shopping bag.
I kept practicing with Corey and Brandon. Being engaged in what I was about to do had me more nervous. The move didn’t feel natural like I’d done before. Doing things on the fly seemed to be more my style, where I didn’t have to think about it too long.
It was harder still not knowing more details about my target, like what he would be wearing, or seeing where his wallet was located. What if he kept his wallet in his front pocket? What if he wasn’t carrying it to the party with him? I’d never worked so hard on one person, and one shot was all I was going to get. Fondling someone’s butt or front pocket to find the right one wouldn’t be acceptable. I worried about how busy this party was going to be, or if I’d even get a chance near the guy.
After another hour, Marc checked the time on his phone. “I guess we should start heading out.”
I grimaced as I lifted Corey’s wallet out of his back pocket for the hundredth time. I slipped it back in and smacked him over the wallet on the butt. “Let’s get this over with,” I said.
Corey chuckled. “Good, because my butt feels numb right now. I’m going to be checking my wallet every two minutes from now on.”
“If you want to stop your wallet from being picked,” I said, “put it in your front pocket. I’m less likely to want to target you if I have to get my hands that close to your junk.”
Raven stood up from the couch, and coughed to get my attention. He pulled his wallet out and stuffed it down the front of his pants. “Maybe you should practice this,” he said. “You never know.”
“Cut it out, Raven,” Marc said.
Raven removed his wallet, but slipped it into his front pocket. “Are we leaving?”
“Yeah. Axel!” Marc called out. “It’s time!”
Axel appeared with a book bag slung over his back shoulder. His long black hair was stuffed behind his ears. He was dressed causal, but he wasn’t going to the party anyway so it didn’t
matter. I was jealous.
He took one look at me and made a face. “Who put her in a dress?”
?????
I left the apartment wearing the dress and my boots. They’d forgotten to buy shoes. Boys.
In the parking lot, the others broke away and headed for different vehicles. I trailed after Brandon.
