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"Can you speak French?" I ask him.
"Yes. Can you?"
"A little. I know the basic stuff like oui, bonjour, croissant, baguette. Also, j'veux ton amour, et je veux ta revanche."
He stops in his tracks and looks at my mouth. No, he 𝘴𝘵�...
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"It's the first of June! You know what that means?" I don't wait for an answer before I continue. "It means that it's the first day of Summer and also the first day of pride month. So, happy pride month from me to you!"
Frankie smiles with Grace's legs thrown over her lap as they sit on the couch. "Thanks."
"Thank you, Estelle."
"I made you both some fruit loops. Because, you know, they're rainbow and fruity. Also," I throw my foot up onto the coffee table, showing my socks with rainbow hearts on them, "these."
I'm an ally.
I'm dressed in a pink tank top and denim shorts. It's not extremely hot yet and New York is known for being cold, however, I feel like I need to dress accordingly on the first day of Summer.
Spring is my favorite season, but there's something so special about Summer. It makes me feel like I'm back at home.
Funny, considering I hated Summer in Australia.
Winter is great because of Christmas vibes, and Autumn has the best aesthetic. Spring just holds a special place in my heart. There's just something about the air and smell in Spring that makes me feel nostalgic, and the best things always happen in Spring.
Not to mention, my birthday is in April, so now that I live here, it lands in Spring rather than Autumn.
I wanted to wear something yellow because that's usually the Summer color I go for, but then I remembered how white I am and how shit yellow looks on me and that I have to wait at least a month of Summer before I can get a tan going on, and then I can wear yellow.
The complications of fashion.
Lately, I've been obsessed with playing Roblox, and everyone feels the need to shame me for it.
Louis had no idea what it was, but when I explained it to him, he gave me a look like he was judging me hardcore, which was really rude because at this point in our relationship, you'd think he'd have accepted me for who I am by now.
And if I'm a twenty-year-old who enjoys playing a game that eight-year-olds play, then so be it.
Although, I do find myself getting bullied on it a lot. I thought I was the one who was meant to do the bullying towards the children, not the other way around.
The girls eat their cereal and immerse themselves into a conversation with each other, talking a little quieter and signaling that they want me to leave the room.
