𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐲
❝persnickety. that sounds about right.❞
Nicole Murillo was the type of girl to fuss at everything. She would proclaim her life was over at the littlest inconvenience, she'd get angry at someone for breathing too loud, she'd ge...
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persnickety⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ | ! CHAPTER ONE !
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It was quite the scene outside. The fog flush-up against the window, curling at the edges. The lamplight shone through the window and onto the grassy terrain just before it. If you were quiet enough you could hear the sound of crickets. It was faint but there nonetheless.
The sound was drowned out completely when Nick's cellphone started buzzing on her dresser. She was busy staring down at her dream journal, attempting to recall the events of her nap. She was failing miserably and it was quite the irritant. After the third ring, the noise became pretty unbearable so she got up and retrieved the device from its place. Groaning loudly, she answered the phone.
"Hello?"
"How long am I gonna have to wait before you get here? They cut you off after so many drinks, you know," Darlene Mathers whispered from the other side of the phone. Nick rolled her eyes and fell backward into her bed, avoiding the pen that was sure to pierce her skull.
"I told you, D.A. I'm not coming." She rolled over onto her stomach and started messing around with the tassels that hung off her throw pillow.
"Oh, why not?!"
"If you aren't having any fun, what makes you think I'm gonna have fun?" There was a brief pause over the line as Darlene tried to understand what of the sentence confused her. It was the alcohol.
"You'll be here with me, duh."
"You're there with you. How'd that turn out?" Nick snickered quietly as the alcohol once again got to her friend's head and started scrambling the common sense. Darlene tried working through the words she could still express verbally while Nick just listened to the mess unravel. She wasn't gonna stop until Nick agreed to go.
"Look, I'll go. If only to relieve the pain of your insipid babbling. Give me twenty minutes."
For Nick, there was no greater feeling than hanging up the phone. It meant that she was once again, free from human interaction. Obviously, that wouldn't be for long because she was currently shoving on a pair of shorts and a jacket over her pajamas. What was the point of trying with an outfit if she didn't want to be there in the first place?
