She tore off her blouse, took a closer look, and decided that Step 1 should be to actually suck as much chocolate from the outside as possible. Oh, my God–is this happening? She tasted the frosting and khaki combination, then heard her mom’s voice, Always attack a stain from behind. So, she set to work applying a series of wet paper towels to the inside. When she finished, she held the thing under the warm air hand drier for several cycles. Five.
As she buttoned up, she pictured the two of them dashing from one shop to another. His coat was over her head, his laughter above the rain, his every move gallant, noble. Yet in even her most romantic visions, the chocolate splotch above her left breast was unmistakable, blatant. Geez!
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