"HEY. Pick up the phone. Hear that? It's the eighties."
My sister looked over at me from the housewares section; I could tell that she didn't want to acknowledge that we knew each other. "What?" she growled. "I'm looking for things for the apartment."
"I found something you need to try on," I smirked. "You'll love it, dude. Get over here." Before she could protest, I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to where I found... it.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" She strained to keep her voice down. Did I embarass her? Gosh, I wasn't even trying. "I'm not wearing that."
"No, you go try it on, smartass."
I looked at it, then back to her. I felt my confidence waver, but just slightly. Hadn't I just been joking with Nannerkins about wearing one of these? "You're on, dude," I said. "But if I rock that, you have to buy it for me."
"Only if you wear it out of the house."
I looked over at her; she was snickering. She thought this was funny. Oh, I'd show her. I'd show her how awesome that thing would look on me, in all it's completely bitchin' eighties glory. "You're on." I grinned, grabbing it off the hanger and walking over to the dressing rooms.
Her smile faded. "I hate you," she growled. "Put the damn jumpsuit in the cart."