"Well, then," Trixie continued, "let's see if we can find your purse, and then get you home." Trixie helped George stand, then they started walking back to the parking lot. "Whoa," Trixie exclaimed as she grabbed George's arm to steady him. He had nearly toppled off his heels. "Are you sure you're okay?"George tried to smile. "I'm okay. I'm just not used to these heels."Trixie looked puzzled, but continued. Almost immediately, Trixie spotted a slender handbag near where George had changed. "Is this your purse?" she asked, holding it out to George.George shook his head, taking the purse awkwardly, like it was a snake about to bite him. "I don't know."Trixie opened it and took out a wallet, then opened the wallet, looking for some ID. She pulled out a license, looked at it, then at George. "Bad picture," she said lightly, "but it's you."George grabbed the driver's license from Trixie and stared at it. "Georgia Lee," he said to himself softly. "Born 1978. That mean's I'm 20." Nothaving. No wonder he was already so ‘popular’ after seeing the way he threw his weight around. His weight, however, was not necessarily muscle as Dante’s was. The mood in the room switched as quickly as everyone’s mind took in that Sid had made a move, and anticipation hung as heavily as musk in the air. The silence was deafening. Dante kept a straight face as he approached, openly taking in his gross teeth in a skewed, overshot jaw and the considerable absence of his ginger hair.“Get up, Hatake.” Sid said huskily.“Sit down, Sid.” Dante replied disdainfully, unfussed. He’d confronted him before and failed to do anything remotely interesting. Dante was sick of his games. Sid stepped in close and planted his huge hands on Dante’s desk, leaning in and grinning uncouthly in his face.Dante grimaced, “Did I ever mention how vile your breath smells?” he said flatly, never breaking eye contact.Something akin to a death stare passed over Sid’s face. Dante allowed himself a little quirk of his lips..
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