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Summary
She pops the clasp on her bra and slips it down her shoulders. She glances towards her bandmates. “Rumi, what do you-
-Only to see Rumi, stumbled back and patterns lit up like a magenta Christmas tree. Shoulders hunched like she has hackles raised. A dumbstruck look on her scarlet red face. The ends of her towel slipping from her fingers.
“Oh.”
Rumi swallows thickly. Her patterns pulse so bright that Zoey winces and covers her eyes.
Hot, Mira thinks. “Oh shit!” She yells.
4 times Mira won an argument, and one time she lost (But did she really?)
Or, the art of flashing your bandmates in order to get what you want.
