between the lines//MGG

6

weed and alcohol content warning! that's it! 

what time should I expect you? I type quickly. 

around 6. can't wait to see you ;)

I flip over in bed and put my phone down. it buzzes again and I'm about to roll my eyes when I see that it's Kirsten who's calling me.

"hello?" I croak. my morning voice is disgusting. 

"hey, sunshine. I didn't wake you up, did I?" 

"well--"

"get out of bed and let me in! I was thinking we could move forward with that redecorating thing." she exclaims. 

"let you in... now? as in you're here? at my apartment?" I sit up.

"yes. hurry. I need to pee." 

I hang up and trudge to the door. she makes a face when she sees me and I don't blame her: I've got on my dad's old painting tee shirt, pajama shorts, and my hair looks like a rat's nest. 

"morning." I groan, letting her in. her heels click across the floor and she immediately goes to the kitchen, where she pours herself a glass of orange juice. 

"good morning! I can wait while you shower and stuff. sorry. I know I should have texted." she doesn't sound very apologetic. I crack a smile and give a thumbs-up before going to brush my teeth and get ready.

"wow, what a difference!" she cheers when I emerge thirty minutes later. my hair is still slightly damp, but it's not like I had much time. I look down at the enormous Tom and Jerry knit sweater I'm wearing and the black jeans underneath. I look cute, but not like a million bucks. 

"thanks."

"so I made a list of places we can go to look for stuff." she whips out her phone.

"okay, but they better be cheap. I really don't have a lot of money to spend." in fact, I barely have any. I'll be lucky to get a table lamp and a few generic wall decorations. 

"darling, we already talked about this: don't worry about the money." she waves it off. 

"Kirsten, I can't let you do that--"

"baby, you are young. I'm getting older and I live alone. I can afford to buy you a few things. plus, nobody deserves to live in a place this bland." she waves around and looks completely unbothered. she's not going to budge. plus, I do want my apartment to look nice for tonight. even a few well-chosen objects could make this place considerably brighter. 

"where to first?"

...

there are so many people in the West Elm, I start to feel claustrophobic. everywhere I turn the cart, rich newlyweds are buying mugs. Kirsten looks unbothered, however; she simply plucks items off the shelves, briefly analyzes my reaction, and throws them in. I'm resigned to the fact that I don't really have a say in this, but it's not too bad. she already seems to know the kind of things I like. besides, she's paying. the least I can do is be compliant.

"so, you and Quinn?" she asks suddenly, examining a simple clock. she thinks better of it and places it back on the shelf. I almost completely miss her question, I'm so shocked. 

"w-what?"

"at the Halloween thing a few days ago? you kissed. are you not remembering this?"

"of course I remember it." I scoff. I'm not lying; I do, but not much. all I can recall is the sensation of her hands on my waist and my fingers running over her perfect curls.