I’m sitting on the floor of my room, the static of the radio fading as Madonna’s "Take a Bow" starts to drift through my speakers, perfectly matching the satin sheen of my new slip dress. My dad is downstairs shouting at the evening news again because the House endorses deep cutbacks in regulations, but the only thing I care about is the sweet sound of my brother finally losing his best holographic Pogs to me in a slammer match.
The crinkle of my plaid skirt against the carpet is the only noise until I hear my pager buzz against my tiny backpack. I’ve gotta look fly for the movies tonight, even if I have to beg for five bucks to cover my ticket and a pop.
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