Sam came out of the locker room, her wet hair slicked back. An unbuttoned red shirt covered the usual tank top she wore. Her feet were still bare, but she carried her boots in one hand, while her dirty clothes hung loosely in the other. She dropped the boots, with the roll of clean socks tucked neatly inside, by the small table where Betsy sat. “Sorry I was so grumpy.” Betsy waved her off. “Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have been giving you such a hard time.” She studied Sam’s attire. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a real shirt before. You clean up real good.” “Thanks, I think.” Sam pulled out the other chair and put on her boots. “I am meeting someone for breakfast, but it’s not really a date.” She crossed one leg over the other and propped her foot on her knee, making quick work of the laces. “She’s only a friend.” “Uh-huh. And you got all gussied up for this friend? Heaven help us if you went out on an actual date. You’d probably show up in a tuxedo.” Betsy laughed at the look on Sam’s face. “Simmer down. The closest place to rent one is about thirty miles away. You don’t have time.” Sam chuckled. “I don’t think this town is ready for a woman in a tux.” She tied her other boot and stood. “Do I really look okay?” Betsy pretended to look her over carefully. She tsked twice and shook her head. “What?” Sam looked at her crotch. “Is my fly open?” She checked the zipper, which was closed. Betsy’s laughter made her realize she was being teased. “That’s not nice.” “I couldn’t resist. You’re too uptight for someone who’s not going out on a date.”
For #lesficfri the word is *pretend*
Sam's friend, Betsy, loves to give her a hard time. Poor Sam is rattled enough meeting Janie for breakfast.
