Sloane had finally made up her mind after bribing Skipper to be here even with the stress-induced or reflex esophagitis she was trying to treat.
She glanced at herself one last time. Maybe a tanker filled with black ink ran into her on her way here. Her T-shirt had graphic prints of pentagrams and skulls, she placed one hand on her hip covered in a distressed pair of jeans with frayed edges.
She wasn't dressed up to impress anyone anyway.
"Skipper, do I really have to do this?"
Sloane's resolve was dissipating remarkably. In the attic that day, Skipper's words had demanded she decide for herself and she did. That's why she's here to stop the wedding but storming in like that, was that really okay? Not that she had any sense of decorum but what if Fisher ignores her and she ends up making a fool of herself?
"You wanna back out? Now? You have got to be kidding me."
