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͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ Tuesday, December 13th
I spent most of my morning at Micheal's trying to find blue, yellow, and white paint for Brooklyn and I. I frowned while picking out the acrylic paints that perfectly matched our school colors. On the way out, I spotted they had calendars. I decided to buy one so I could add the 30 million things I needed to do this much.
I wen home shortly after that and waited for Ethan to drop off the jersey. It hit me that I didn't even know what jersey number he or Mark was. I decided to look it up on the UMich Hockey website. I found out his jersey number is 73 and his position is D, which he told me was a defenseman. When I looked at Mark's, his number was 94.
The game was at 8:30, it's now 6:45 and there's no jersey. I told him to drop off the jersey and he specifically said he would and to trust him. Rule 3, don't be an asshole. I grabbed the calendar and hung it up on the wall next to my bed. "Perfect," I smiled.
"Esme!" Brooklyn yelled from the bathroom. "Come help me with my face paint!"
I grabbed the paints and brushes from the Micheals bag and headed to the bathroom. "What design do you want?" I asked her as I laid it all out on the counter.
She thought for a moment, "Can you do Mark's number on this cheek and dots on this one?" She pointed at each cheek while grinning from ear to ear. I shrugged my shoulders, that shouldn't be too hard.
The only problem was Brooklyn couldn't sit still to save her life. She kept turning her head and laughing at my concentrated expression.
"Stop moving!" I laughed as well. When I finished, the dots were pretty crooked but the number looked clean. "Done."
She clapped her hands while smiling. She admired my work in the mirror, then turned to me and asked. "Can I do yours?" Before I could give any verbal or physical answer, she grabbed the brush out of my hand and told me to sit on the sink counter. She smiled, "God, I haven't done this since high school. Is there any specific design you want?"
I shook my head, "I guess just Ethan's number."
"Which is?" She asked, dipping the brush in the navy blue paint.
"73," I answered confidently. She gave me a look which made me roll my eyes. "I'm not actually his girlfriend."
"I know," She muttered. I kind of let her have free will to put whatever she wanted, which would probably not be a good idea in any other context.
She did something simple, just the same dots I gave her but she painted 73 instead of 94. She smiled at her work and helped me off the counter like I was 5 years old. She spun me around to face the mirror and look at myself. I just stared at myself in the mirror while resting her head on my shoulder, "I did fantastic."
