.. She could see his realization in on his face. He tried to rescue the situation. “You are—your.” He had bungled it. Her face showed sadness bu... not anger or even accusation. “Brandon, it’s OK. I know I am plain at best.” She rubbed the stubble on his chin, comforting him. “Sorry!” “Don’t be. This is what the sorority does for girls like me. This is the feminism we practice here. As for the cult ... that is a different story.” Brandon raised himself up to better pay attention to what she was. She wore a simple white, flowery sundress that came just above her knees and was cut low, revealing her tan shoulders, bare arms and a little cleavage. She looked angelic with tiny silver earrings and a bracelet on her wrist. I noticed she was barefooted when she walked in from the kitchen carrying a bowl of mashed potatoes in one hand and a smaller bowl of peas. Her grandmother, wearing the same long gray dress she had on earlier, followed and carried a large platter with sliced roast beef in. More

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