1°-Waiting for dinner-

At Armstrong's house, 6:30 pm…

"Let's go, Katie" exclaimed Billie, while in front of the mirror he was making sure that nothing lacked to his clothes "Quick, or we'll be late!"

A clear and strong woman's voice answered from the bathroom: "One moment, I'm drying my hair!"

"As usual…phew!" Billie went on muttering "how about having your haircut?"

The woman preferred to not reply, it was better forget him when he was doing so, otherwise would have burst an unforgettable argument. It had already happened once for the same reason and she hadn't a mind it happened again, especially because they had to go out and be in a good mood.

Katie had just finished to dry her hair, when she went out from the big water green bathroom, dressed in only underwear.

"Are you still in briefs?" asked Billie, irritated.

"Don't worry, I'll be very fast" replied the woman "I already know what to put on"

"Just as well, I'm glad of it…the problem is that you will have also to make up…all right, they will wait…"

Billie looked at her, while she was making for the bedroom: she was a very beautiful girl, quite tall, slim, with a good dry figure, but with her flesh in the right places.

Her hair was golden blonde with a lot of clear blonde tints, curly and falling over her shoulders,.

Her eyes were beautiful, and maybe one of the most particular elements of her face: cunning, bright, amethyst purple, so hard to find.

The dark eyebrows, nearly black, formed an accentuated and perfect arch, and set off her fair hair and her clean skin. Her nose was little and straight and her lips, small, strawberry red were also pretty: the upper lip was slightly smaller than lower one, which was fleshier.

The woman went out of the room, wearing a long gold dress, very particular, with a side vent.

"May you think you weren't noticed?" asked Billie, joking.

"Yes, that's right…and in fact I put right" she answered, showing her beautiful smile, with her white and perfect teeth.

After she came back to the bathroom to making-up, Billie exclaimed, closing the house's door: "Oh, at last, here we go!"

In the meantime, at Dirnt's house…6:40 pm

"Well, Shirley, could you come out of the bathroom, please? I have to get dressed too! We'll be late!"

"Come off it! Billie and Katie are always late!"

"This is not a good excuse!"

The man was protesting in vain: Shirley wouldn't have undoubtedly deign to open, until she had finished her 'restoration's work'.

"Shirley? Shirley? Have you finished? I want to have a wee!"

"You're very fineness…ok, I'm coming out! you're very stressful…a little calm, maybe was I asking to much!"

"Calm? I've got too much calm with you!"

The girl, indignant, went to her bedroom, to find a very elegant jacket which she could couple with her short, emerald green dress.

She looked at herself: her fine features face was framed by the deep-red straight hair, falling over her sides, with some shorter forelock. Her eyes were beautiful: wide, full of life and light green.

Her nose was little and turned-up like French and it conferred to the girl such an infantile expression. Her lips were little and nice, with the upper lip more accentuated and fleshy than the lower one. They were clearer compared with her quite dark complexion, strange case for an American. She was very slim and she has a well-proportioned body; the only one 'little defect' was her height…yes, that's right, she reached a good height only with a high-heeled shoes.

But all this didn't prevent her from being a very nice and attractive type.

"With those hells, you'll make Billie looks like nothing, you know?" commented Mike, coming into the room and watching the green dizzy-heels sandals, with a critical look.

"No, I won't. I don't reach his height with those…" replied Shirley.

"Oh, yes…you're too short…apart from that, you seem so unstable…are you sure you're able to walk with those sandals?"

"Tsè! I'm able to walk with those, of course…remember, Michael Ryan Pritchard, I never fall!"

The famous last words…

At Cool's house, 6:45 pm…

"And I don't want to come!" shouted Ellen, from her bedroom.

"Oh, let's go, Ellie, it's just a dinner, you won't die! And beside, I adore staying with them!" replied Trè, imploring. "That's so, which tie does it suit me better?" he asked, showing five ties, all very vivid. By this time, Ellen had resigned herself to her husband's rather questionable tastes, and answered: "Err…put on the salmon coloured one"

"These clothes suit you…you seem a little comfit" observed Trè, bewitched by the wife. Unfortunately the woman wasn't a real beauty: she was quite tall and too slim and angular, with a very clear and delicate complexion. But she had a rather nice face, it wasn't special, but, in a certain sense, it attracted the attention: the bulbous nose and cheekbones were sprinkled of freckles, and se had small, brown eyes. Her hair was wavy and very black, falling over her shoulder and making heavy curls. She was wearing a light-pink long dress, which gave prominence to the hair.

"Well, are we ready?" exclaimed Trè, daring.

"Yes, if we really have to go…" answered Ellie, who decidedly didn't share her husband's enthusiasm. "Have you said to Sarah that she has to put Henry to bed at nine?"

"Yeah, yes, don't worry"

She couldn't explain why, but that 'yeah, yes' seemed too little convinced…maybe it was just an impression…or she hoped so, at least.

Trè was arrived at the door and exclaimed: "Ellie, are you coming?"

"Yes, yes, I'm coming!" replied Ellen, making for the living-room, where her son was watching cartoons, and after having kissed him on the cheek, she followed the husband.

At the restaurant, 7:05 pm…

"They are late" declared caustic Ellen, evidently annoyed, referring to the other two couples who were due to arrive.

"Be'…they are only five minutes late…it's a record for them!" relied Trè "oh, here Mike and Shirley are!"

The two had just got out of the taxi and they were toiling along through paparazzi, who were thwarting the passage.

"Hello everybody! We has been able to come, at least…excuse us, it's only Mike's fault: the cissy wanted to stay in the bathroom…"

"Me! It was you the only one that didn't permit me to go in!" protested indignant the concerned.

"Don't try to pin the blame on me, unworthy boyfriend!"

"To tell the truth, you're pinning YOUR blame on me!"

The dispute was interrupted by Trè, who said ironically: "I'm sorry to interrupt this 'loving' dispute, but the other 'drifters' are arriving…"

"Don't dare to say that I'm a drifter again!" exclaimed Billie, pretending to be injured.

"He's right, Billie…well, can we sit at our dinner table?" intervened Katie, bringing all back to the reality.

They sat down at a table and, while they were waiting for the courses, they began to talk.

"You've never told me how you met…" said Ellen, in a very formal tone of voice: it was manifest that those two girls didn't go down well with her.

"It was a meeting wanted by the destiny…" declared dreamy Billie.

"But what destiny! You dogged my footsteps for four days!" exclaimed Katie, laughing.

"Yes, and I knew you the only day in which I didn't tailed you!"

"Ah…what an emotion! Shame that it wasn't a very good first meeting! I argued with Mike and then we got a real drunk!" commented on Shirley, sarcastic.

"In fact Shirley's right…" said Trè "it can't be defined like one of your best meeting…"

"Beh…but it has worked, at least!" observed practical Mike.

"Eeeeeeeh, well…what a pity that it has worked!" said Katie, pretending to lament.

"How come? I'm a model husband!" answered Billie.

"Oh no…what I've to hear…" commented sceptical Shirley, who didn't repute Billie a model husband.

"My dear Billie…don't you see that they are a little bit taking offence?" asked Mike, scandalized.

"Maybe even he knows that it isn't the truth…" exclaimed Ellen, ironically.

"A fool's talk carries no weight!" predicted Billie.

"Stop, stop…let's turn back to the point…you have really roused my interest…" exclaimed Ellie "why don't you tell me better the story, with particulars?"

"Eeeer…it's a long story…" said Shirley, leaning on the chair's back and preparing the long speech.

"Yes, it is…and of course you won't narrate it; you're too prolix…" Mike tried to stop her, but without a result.

"Remember, Michael Ryan Pritchard, I'm always brief…well, it was a dark and stormy night…."

To be continued…please, review! We absolutely need suggestions and opinions! Thank you very much! We excuse if ourenglish isn't very good...but we're two Italian girls, who loves this language very much and we wanted to try to write not in Italian...bye bye!