Danilo
The amount of men staring at Sandy as we passed through the restaurant to the table at the back, had my nerves wound tight. Why did she have to wear such a tiny skirt that her legs were practically exposed? It could fit a ten year old the more I looked at it.
She was oblivious, maybe, she sometimes liked the attention and found it funny how much I would stress about it. "You look ready to snap their necks in half," she giggled as we sat down and the waiter left us with the menus. "I'm a big girl. My daddy taught me to take a life if necessary."
"Grandpa ain't never taught anyone to take a life. He far too sweet," I snickered.
"I think it was Bobby," she tapped her chin with her manicured finger and nodded in thought. "Probably Bobby. He's one of those intimidating big brothers."
"You need to wear longer skirts so that I won't have to stress so much. It gets uncomfortable to know people are staring at my aunt."
