She had ear-length, jet-black hair that stood in stark contrast to her snow-white skin.
She was speaking Russian on the phone, a glass of champagne in her hand.
"Dad, I really don't want to go to some homecoming dance. I have nothing to talk about with these guys," she complained, taking a sip of champagne. "...This champagne is as weak as water... Can you believe that when they found out I'm from Moscow, their brilliant icebreaker was asking my opinion on the stylistic differences between Dostoevsky and Tolstoy? What a bunch of pansies."
"...I know, I know, I know," she retorted impatiently, as if getting a lecture from the other end of the line. "But you know what's even more ridiculous? Last semester, a guy in my class confessed to me. I told him I only like girls. So, when school started this year, he announced he was taking birth control pills and that he's a girl now... Right? How insane is that? These Americans are all a little crazy."
