"Housemate?!"

Luke laughs. "Yep."

I stop walking and wiggle out of his grip, shaking my head at him. "No. You've got your own house."

Luke shrugs. "I share a room with my older brother. You've got... how many rooms to spare?"

Ducking my head, I quietly say, "Two."

He leans his head down closer to mine. "I'm sorry, how many?"

Louder this time, I repeat myself. "Two."

Luke resumes walking. "At least let me stay the nights at your house."

I sigh. "It's not my job to decide where you spend your nights. I sound like a mom when I say this, but, you have to take that up with your own parents."

After a loud groan, Luke murmurs, "They're trying to get my brother and me out anyway. I don't think it'd really matter to them."

I shrug. "Still, Luke, you have to ask them."

Luke sighs heavily. "But would it be okay with you?"

Stubbornly, I tell him, "Only if it's okay with them."

Luke stops. "Fine," he mumbles. He reaches into his back pocket and whips out his phone, and proceeds to unlock it and call someone. Putting the call on speaker, he holds it between us so I can see who he's calling.

It's his dad.

While it dials, Luke awkwardly rocks on his feet, almost looking nervous. The ringing stops, replaced with a deep voice on the other end of the line. "Luke?"

Luke lets out a breath. "Hey, dad. I have a question for you."

After a long sigh on the other end, Luke's dad says, "Okay, kid. What is it?"

Luke hesitates for a moment before speaking. "I have a friend, and-"

His dad cuts him off. "A friend? You haven't had any friends since Matt Nash."

Letting out a seemingly frustrated breath, Luke replies, "Yeah, dad, I made a friend. Her name is Cami. Anyways, she lives alone in a house with four bedrooms. I was thinking that since you're trying to cut costs, and ties sometimes too, I could go stay with her."

A tense silence ensues. After a solid thirty seconds of Luke staring stiffly at his phone, his dad finally answers him. "It's fine with me. I'm sure your brother wouldn't mind. Just don't go staying there all the time, hear me, kid? And don't do anything inappropriate with that girl."

Luke closes his eyes, sighing in a relieved fashion before he answers. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks, dad."

"Bye, son."

After he hangs up, Luke turns to me. "That good enough for you, Van?"

I stammer through my response. "I... uh... I mean... sure... um, I guess?"

Not questioning me further, Luke starts to amble down the sidewalk again. We walk in silence until we get back to my house.

Luke waits in silence behind me while I unlock my front door. I open it and step back, letting him walk in first. While I step in and re-lock the door, he leans his back against the dark grey wall of the foyer, glancing around my house.

Letting his gaze slip onto me, he asks, "Could you give me a tour?"

In response, I stroll past the foyer, motioning for him to follow me. Walking slowly down the main hallway, I point to a large, open room on our left, filled with musical instruments and posters of classic rock bands covering the maroon colored walls. Mostly my mother's, although I know how to play most of the instruments at least a little. "Music room."

I glance back to see Luke nod from behind me. Next I point to an equally large room to the right. The room has a large mahogany table with black felt swivel chairs surrounding it, as well as several moderately-sized windows to give light to the grey room. "Dining room."

Luke hums behind me, and I take it as a cue to keep going. I wander into the dining room, through a doorway, and into the kitchen. The large open space greets us with a small table, an island, cabinets, a fridge, basically everything typical of a kitchen. "Kitchen."

Luke chuckles. "I got that. Keep going."

Crossing to the other side of the kitchen, I make a right into a short hallway, where on the right, the stairway to the second floor is. "Stairs. There's more to see down here, but you'll get to go upstairs in a minute." I point to the left, where a half-bathroom resides. "First floor half-bath."

"Okay," Luke replies simply.

I walk through the short hallway and emerge into the living area, complete with pure white walls, four black leather sofas, a burgundy colored ottoman, matching burgundy loveseat, and a curved 84-inch television. Two nine-by-three foot windows sit in the wall opposite the television, framed by burgundy curtains. "As you can tell, my parents put a lot of effort into making this room look like it came straight out of a Southern Living magazine."

I slip a glance at Luke to see him looking at the room in admiration. "I think I'm gonna spend the rest of my life here."

Laughing, I tell him, "Nice plan, but, I won't let you do that, Luke."

He chuckles and tells me, "Continue."

I walk to a doorway at the back of the living room, which takes us back to the foyer. "That was the first floor, now let's go upstairs."

Luke steps back. "Lead the way, m'lady."

I turn around and return to the staircase. When we reach the landing at the top, I point to the left of us, where there's a small and cozy coffee nook, with a Nespresso machine and a mini fridge resting in a shelf, that much like the room downstairs, looks like it belongs in a magazine. "Coffee nook."

After letting out a low whistle, Luke says, "Sweet."

I point to a closed door a little to the left of the nook. "My parents room. No one ever goes in there, except them, y'know, when they're actually here."

Not waiting to hear Luke say something for fear that his response will carry pity along with it, I turn and point to door at the back corner of the nook. "That's my room. Off-limits."

Luke sighs playfully. His voice carries amusement as he states, "You see, Van, I don't think I'll be able to live with that limitation."

"Just try to," I mutter. I point to a hallway past the stairs. "Let's go down there."

I trot into the hallway, Luke following me closely. In about the middle of the hallway, I wave to our left, where a decent-sized laundry room sits. "Laundry room."

"You might have to teach me how to work your machines. Ours are old."

Nodding, I say, "Will do." I keep walking, pointing to a doorway at the end of the hallway. "Guest bedroom number one. The larger one." When we near it, I open the door, allowing Luke to see inside.

The room is, hands down, the most glorious bedroom in the house. It's so gorgeous, in fact, that I spend most of my time in here instead of my actual room. My parents would never let this room be mine, so I take full advantage of the fact that they're gone to bask in its glory.

Due to the fact that my parents are loaded, what I'm about to describe to you has actually inspired some of the most luxurious rooms in existence on my parents' cruise line.

The walls of the room are light grey, with the exception the one the bed rests against. That wall is painted with black chalk paint. The bed is one of those rare rounded ones, with a simple, yet elegant, black comforter surrounding the matching black sheets. Across from the bed sit two large floor-to-ceiling windows. A 70-inch television is mounted on the wall between the windows. When you're looking at the bed, to its right, sits a sizable bay window, complete with a smaller black bed for napping. Two chrome nightstands stand on either side of the bed. All in all, it is, hands down, the most luxurious bedroom I've ever seen in my life.

Luke must think so too, because when I look back at him, his mouth is hanging open, and although he's trying to say something, he's rendered speechless as his mouth opens and closes, at a loss for words.

I decide to fill the silence. "Like I said. Guest bedroom number one. Not off-limits, and I don't mind it if you spend a lot of time in here—because I mean, how could you resist a room like this—but just don't sleep in here. Unless my parents ever explicitly tell you to sleep in here, it's forbidden. But if they ever ask, don't tell them that I do on bad nights."

Luke finally breaks his reverie and looks back at me, with an almost-smile on his face. "Okay, I won't. Uh, where do I sleep?"

I walk back into the hallway. "There's one bedroom left. Relax."

Luke nods and exits the room as well, closing the door behind him. I point to the left of us. "This is the bathroom for this room and your room." Luke nods. I point to our right, where there is another staircase. "These go up to the third floor. Your room's up there. C'mon."

I take the steps in two, Luke following calmly and quickly behind me. At the top of the staircase there's a door leading to his bedroom. I open it to reveal it, and although it's not nearly as nice as the one we just saw, Luke still must think a lot of it, since his eyes widen and his eyebrows practically shoot halfway up his forehead.

The room is painted white, with two decent sized windows on the other end of the room shedding light into it. The walls are adorned completely with Carolina Panthers jerseys, with numbers of old and new players. Across from the bed lies a 32-inch television on a black stand. The bed itself is wrapped in a Panthers bedspread. It's a perfect room for my family and I, but not so much for a person whose loyalty goes to a different NFL team.

Luke chuckles. "Football fans?"

I smile up at him. "You know it, dude. If you're still here next football season, I'ma be in here often."

After laughing, Luke says, "Okay."

Nudging him, I ask, "Are you gonna go home at any point to get some stuff of yours?"

Luke nods. "I'll go later tonight. I think I'll stay a little longer before I go home. Anything else to see?"

I nod and wave him out of the room. Once we're both back into the small hallway, I lead him to the end of it, where a doorway awaits. I open it, revealing a large man-cave, complete with a pool table, a foosball table, and an air hockey table. And, of course, no man-cave could really be a man-cave without a sleek leather couch and a 90-inch QLED tv.

Luke starts to laugh when he sees it. "I can't believe—oh God—I can't believe it's so gorgeous...."

I sigh. "My parents haven't been back here since we moved a month ago, but back at our old house we had a room just like this, and dad spent all his time there. My mom was–or rather,  is–never home when they're not cruising. It sucks."

Luke quickly stops laughing and looks at me with some unknown emotion in his eyes. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, Van."

Shielding my face with my hair, I look down. "I know, it's okay."

I tense a bit when I feel him put his arms around me, but relax when he starts to gently rub my back in a comforting manner. "Well, if it's any consolation, I'm here now, Van."

I nod, still pressed against him. "Okay. I'm okay."

Luke loosens his hold on me, but I'm still in his arms. "So. I think you promised me earlier that we would binge I Love Lucy."

My facial expression morphs quickly into a smile as I look up at him. "Yeah, I did. You've got options, Luke, so which room do you wanna watch in?"

You can see it in his face that he's actually putting a fair amount of thought into his answer. His face is the image of pure pensiveness for a solid minute before he answers, "Guest room number one."

Just to play with him, I ask, "You sure about that...?" I make sure to drag it out.

Luke groans. "Ugh, Van, don't do this to me! I made a decision, let's just go down there before I change my mind, and trust me, you don't want me changing it now. I'll be the epitome of indecisiveness."

I hold up my hands in mock surrender, giggling at him. "Okay, okay, Luke. You win. Guest room number one it is."

He leads me back downstairs and into the guest room. I sit on the right side of the bed and pat the space next to me. "C'mon."

Obligingly, he jumps onto the bed and settles in at a respectable distance next to me while I turn on the television and start flipping through the On Demand channels. After about a minute, I find what I'm looking for—episodes of tv gold—I Love Lucy.

I press play on the remote, and promptly, Luke and I are laughing heartily at one of Lucy's antics. 

•••

Closing my trunk—which contains a couple of suitcases worth of Luke's things—I sigh and get into the driver's seat of my car.

It's my baby, because I worked long and hard for it and I bought it with my own money, because my rich and detached parents refused to. It's a brand-new Mini Countryman with a manual transmission. It's bright red with two white racing stripes. I can safely say that I love this car more than most things in the universe. I never drive it to school just because it's so close, coupled with the fact that I have a horrible fear of it getting dinged in the parking lot, because I've seen how these kids drive, and it doesn't look so good.

Anyways. After we binged I Love Lucy for several hours, we decided it was time to go get Luke some of his things. We got in my car and drove here, where I helped him pack up a fair amount of his things.

Now I'm waiting for Luke to join me in the passenger seat. He's inside his house saying goodbye to his mom and brother. They know he'll be back, obviously, but he has to do it because, I mean, why wouldn't you say goodbye to someone you love before making an important-ish change?

After about twenty minutes, he emerges from his house and gets into my passenger seat. I reverse out of his driveway while he tells me, "Y'know, I'm gonna miss them, but I don't think I'll miss the house much."

I don't blame him. I'm not the type of girl who looks down her nose at people, but Luke's house looks, quite frankly, like it's falling to pieces. I feel a pang of pity for him, and I honestly don't know if I should answer him or not. I feel like if I said something it would come off as insensitive, so ultimately I just decide not to.

After a minute, Luke sighs next to me. "I mean, I'll go see them every day. I told mom I'm coming back every night for dinner. It's just, I never liked that house. Dad never took enough care of it—always said he'd rather just buy a new one than fix anything. It's almost a relief to be in a house like yours now."

I keep my eyes on the road, but I nod. Trying to avoid being inadvertently insensitive, I change topics. "So when we get back which luggages are you gonna carry up to your room? There's that faded grey one, the black one, and the red one. I know what you'll ask, and yes, I do mind heavy lifting. Very much."

Luke laughs. "In that case, I'll take the red one and the black one. The grey one is still pretty heavy but not as much as the other two."

"Okay," I say simply, and continue to drive.

Once we're back at my house, I ease my car into the garage and wordlessly help Luke bring his things upstairs. Once his three suitcases are settled into his room, I help him unpack the two suitcases he carried—the red one and the black one. He insists I don't open the grey one. I haven't even seen its contents; he packed it while I'd been waiting for him.

Not wanting to invade his privacy, I stand up after we've unpacked the first two suitcases. I take out my phone and glance at the time it displays: 11:19 PM.

"Whoa," I breathe, looking at it. I glance back up towards Luke. "Hey, it's like 11:20 at night, so I'ma go downstairs and hit the hay. You good?"

Luke looks up at me from his current spot on the floor. "Yeah. I'm good. Thanks, Van."

I nod and slip out of his room, taking my time descending the stairs. I cross the hallway and reading nook back to my room. As I look at it, I realize that in comparison to the rest of my house, my room looks extremely unsophisticated. I can't believe it took giving a house tour for me to realize it.

I give it some thought, and after a few minutes, I'm in my parents' bedroom, rifling through a drawer where my dad keeps an organized collection of his passwords for different things. I find his Amazon and eBay passwords and soon thereafter start going through a different drawer containing information for all his credit cards. (You're probably wondering how I got my hands on this information so easily. Well, both drawers were locked, but with the help of YouTube and a bobby pin, they're not anymore.) Once I have everything I need, I get to work.

Whipping open my laptop, my first stop on my online shopping spree is a mattress website, where I, fueled by pettiness, buy myself what is deemed to be the highest-quality mattress out there. It is, not to mention, very expensive, or at least to my dad it is, because it's his credit card that's paying for this.

Next, I log into Amazon and buy myself a sleek and modern black bed frame. I keep scrolling through Amazon until I come across a matching black armoire, and I purchase that, too. After a few minutes, I come across a plush black loveseat, and I buy that as a replacement to my current small sofa. I also buy myself a 60-inch QLED tv, and after a bit of hunting, I find an electrician with good reviews and save his information for when my tv comes.

I decide that tomorrow, I'll take pictures of my current mattress, bed frame, and my small sofa and post it on eBay.

When I've finished my petty, yet satisfying shopping spree, I turn off my computer and get into my regular sleeping outfit—black athletic shorts and an oversized tee shirt. I slip myself under the covers of my bed, thinking about how, soon, my room will be just as fabulous as the rest of them.

– –

I wake up, happy to not have had my slumber disturbed by an alarm clock. It's Saturday, and I'm in a remarkably good mood, considering I just woke up.

My mood instantly crashes, however, when I take a peek at my clock. 6:17 AM, it reads. I groan and flop back onto my pillow. Trying to find a comfortable position again, I toss and turn on my bed until I end up curled into a ball. I will myself to lie still until I feel myself slowly drifting away.

I don't know much time goes by with me being out of it before I hear a voice, softly saying my name. "Camila...."

Humming, I try to turn away from the voice and go back into my deep sleep. However, the voice tries again. "Cami...."

A puff of air escapes me, followed by a groan of protest, but the voice is relentless. "Van. Get up. It's eleven already."

Wait a minute, hold up. Van?

My eyes shoot open to see Luke's face hovering over me. I jump a bit before I remember yesterday. "Luke," I start. "I thought I told you my room was off-limits."

Luke smiles. "I told you I wouldn't be able to live with that."

Rolling my eyes, I ask, "Is it really eleven?"

After a nod, Luke chirps, "Yep."

Through a yawn I tell Luke, "That was a marvelous nap."

He furrows his eyebrows slightly. "Nap? You were asleep, not napping."

I blink a couple times, amused at him. "No, that was a nap. I woke up at like six, and then I decided I wanted to take a nap. So I did. You woke me up from a nap, Luke."

Luke shakes his head. "Whatever you say, Van. So. What're your plans for today?"

Pondering his query, I realize that yesterday I decided that I would put my mattress, sofa, and bed frame on eBay. "You're gonna help me take some pictures."

Eyebrows raised, he questions, "I am?"

I nod once. "Yeppers."

Sitting up, I wave my hand, silently telling Luke to get out. He obliges, standing up straight and walking out my room. Before he closes my door, he tells me, "If you're not done changing in three minutes, I'm coming in even if you're not ready."

With that, Luke shuts the door. A puff of air escapes me as I rip the covers off of me and dart across my room to my small dresser. I take out a pair of black jeans and a white I Heart New York shirt. After ripping off my sleep attire, I fold them and put them back into the dresser. Then, quickly, I put on my chosen outfit. Once I'm dressed, I cross my room again to get to my shoe closet and I slip on a pair of comfy home boots.

Just as I finish putting them on, Luke re-opens the door to my room. "You good?"

I nod. "Yep."

Luke steps farther into my room and sits down on my small sofa. "So I'm going to help you take photos?"

I nod again. "Yep."

"Why?"

Shrugging, I say passively, "I felt like being a petty person yesterday and as a result, I need to post pictures of some stuff on eBay."

Luke raises his eyebrows. "Okay...," he mutters slowly.

I go back to my bed and start stripping the sheets and blankets off of it. Luke eyes me weirdly. "You're doing laundry, too?"

Smiling at him, I tell him, "Y'know, actually, I needed to do laundry too. Would you be a bro and go put the comforter in the washing machine?"

Luke sighs. "Sure," he answers. He grabs the comforter off of the floor and starts dragging it into the hallway slowly.

I chuckle at him and keep stripping the bed until it's completely bare. Since all the sheets are now on the floor, I kick them over to a corner of my room. As I make my way back to the bare mattress, Luke pokes his head back into my room. "Your comforter's in the washing machine."

He earns a quick grateful glance from me before I wave him over. "So. Luke. Dear, dear Luke. My bro Lucas. Lucas Samuel Hayes. Lu-"

Luke cuts me off with a not-so-serious scowl on his face. "Van? Get to the point please."

Chuckling, I continue. "Here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna move this bed frame over by the window." I point to the far side of my room, where several large windows shine light into my room. "Then, we're gonna take a picture."

I hop over to the side of the bed frame, where my camera's battery is charging. After taking the battery out of the wall charger, I insert it into the camera and turn it on. I set it to "programmed automatic" mode so that I can play a bit with it but not have to worry so much about my shutter speed and aperture.

Setting the camera down on my bedside table, I turn back to Luke. "So are you gonna help me move the thing or not?"

Luke nods. "Yeah. I was just waiting for you to do your thing with the camera." He grips the corner of the bed firmly, waiting for me to get on the other end so we can carry it together. Once I'm situated with a hold on the other corner, he looks at me. "On three." I nod in agreement. "One... THREE!"

Luke picks up his end of the bed frame, but I've been caught off guard because he skipped two. As a result, I, overcome with some type of weird anxiety, pick up the bed without paying much attention to what I'm doing and almost immediately, the frame slips out of my grip and lands hard on my toes.

I yell out in pain while Luke rushes to my side. "Oh my god, Van!" His face conveys genuine concern and worry as he gingerly yet speedily lifts the bed frame off of my foot. After he sets it down he kneels by my side. "Oh, gosh, Van, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have skipped two, I promise I didn't mean for this to happen. Oh, Van, I-"

This time it's me who cuts him off. My voice comes out strained and pained (ha, I rhymed) as I say, "Luke, it's fine, I don't care. But don't just sit there blabbering, shut up already and get me some freaking ice!"

Almost in a panicky way, Luke mumbles, "Yeah, yeah, right." I don't expect him to do what he does next. Hastily, he places one arm around my back and one arm under my legs and picks me up bridal-style.

Taken off guard, I gasp and instantaneously throw my arms around his neck. "Luke! I asked for ice!"

He's on the move, already halfway downstairs, and he's headed towards the kitchen. "Yeah, yeah, I know, but I didn't want you to have to wait for me to get it and go all the way back upstairs." Luke sets me down on the kitchen counter and gently slides off my left boot. A bit of broken and raw skin and a visible dent in my foot greet us when it comes off.

Luke wastes no time in throwing open cabinet doors, in an attempt to find a first aid kit for my tiny skin lacerations. He finds one in almost no time. After he opens it, he takes a ball of cotton and dampens it with isopropyl alcohol. Holding out his hand to me, he says, "This'll hurt."

I slide my hand into his as he presses the cotton ball to my foot. My teeth automatically clench as the burn from the alcohol hits me. Luke lets out a soft and quiet laugh, and I look down to see that my hand is squeezing his, hard.

As the burn starts to subside, Luke takes the cotton ball and dips it once more into the alcohol. He presses it back into my broken skin again, but instead of a burn, it only tingles a bit before totally going away.

I breathe a sigh of relief and Luke lets go of my hand. Looking up at me, he asks, "Where's your trash, Van?"

Realizing I hadn't shown him where it is, I point to a cabinet in the corner of the kitchen. He crosses over to it and throws away the cotton ball before making his way back to the freezer. He takes out a couple of chunks of ice from the freezer and sets them on a paper towel that'd been lying around. After wrapping up the ice in the paper towel, he turns back towards me and softly presses it to my foot.

The iciness shoots through my foot, distracting me from the pain. Although I love being cold, I don't love feeling like ice. As the iciness sweeps over me, I squeeze my eyes shut and lean forward, resting my head on Luke's shoulder. With one hand, he strokes my arm in a comforting manner, and with the other, he moves the ice around slowly and gently on my foot.

When the chill that the ice generates gets to be a bit too cold for me, I lift my head off of Luke's shoulder and tell him that I'm okay. He eyes me for a second before inquiring, "You sure?"

I hum affirmatively. "Yeah. I'm okay. Thanks, Luke."

He waves his hand dismissively. "No problem, Van." He picks up my discarded boot off the floor and gestures to my foot. "May I?"

Scoffing playfully, I respond, "I'm not Cinderella, Luke. Just put the boot on, bro."

Luke laughs and slips the boot back onto my foot. He then takes my hand in one of his and puts his other hand on my waist. "Let's get you off of that counter, bae."

I place my free hand on his chest. "Whoa whoa whoa, 'bae?'"

Through soft chuckles, he answers, "Yep. Bae. You call me bro, even though I'm not your bro, so I'ma call you bae even though you aren't my bae."

After a dismissive shrug I reply, "Fair enough."

Luke smiles warmly at me before saying, "You want me to help you down now?"

I return his smile. "If you would be so kind."

I put my hand on his shoulder as he easily lifts me off the kitchen counter and sets me down on the ground. The pressure I put on my foot hurts at first, but I quickly get used to it. Luke rests his hand on the small of my back as he walks us towards the steps at a leisurely pace. When we get to the bottom of the staircase, he unexpectedly scoops me up in his arms and carries me back up the stairs. I laugh as he carries me upwards, earning me a sweet smile in response from him.

At the top of the steps, he lets me back down and guides me back to my room. I start to make my way back towards the bed frame, but Luke holds me back. "Easy there, bae, but I think you should let me move it."

I start to protest, but Luke grabs a book off of my nearby shelf and ushers me out of my room and into the nook. He opens a cabinet near the mini fridge and takes out a bag of chocolate chip cookies and then hands them to me. "You just wait here and get yourself all comfy while I move the bed. I'll be fine doing it on my own, but-"

Cutting him off, I say, "How do you know you'll be fine on your own, bro?"

Luke smirks as he starts to flex his arm muscles. (I've never been one to be too impressed by muscular men, but I just can't bring myself to look away from the gloriousness that is Luke's physique as he flexes. He looks so strong, so confident, so hot... God, what am I saying?) Bringing me back into reality, Luke responds to my previous question. "Because look at the gun show, bae." (Of course. He ruined it by being the cocky version of himself.)

He continues to flex his arms in different positions until I get annoyed and swat his chest. "Alright, alright, Mr. Cocky, just go move the bed."

Luke laughs at my annoyance. "Okay Van. Also, I saw you drooling over me." He leans in, his lips ticking my ear and making me shiver as he continues, "I don't mind, bae. Anytime you wanna bask in my glory all you gotta do is ask."

I gasp and slap his chest. "Bro! Luke!"

He responds by laughing before disappearing back into my room.

Goodness freaking gracious. I'm really starting to second-guess why I let him stay here. 

A/N

So. Hi. Hello there. Hola. Bonjour. Ciao. Konichiwa. Ni hao. Et cetera.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story :) I'm really happy you do. Anything y'all do to support this story is very appreciated.

So, like, when I was writing this chapter I thought it was really short in comparison to the others, but then I checked the word count on each of the chapters and as it turns out, this is the one with the most words in it! Sorry if the longevity of my chapters bores you. It's just that short chapters usually irk me. 

So! Luke and Cami are housemates now. How d'you feel about that??

Like I said last chapter. It may appear that things are moving fast between these two. However, in reality, it's really not.

On a totally different note: it's freaking November and it's 70°. IT AINT SUPPOSED TO BE 70° IN NOVEMBER. IM SUPPOSED TO BE OUT HERE IN A COAT ALREADY Y'ALL. Yo Etch, could you turn down the heat a bit with that last name of yours? Cause November is NOT the time I wanna be hot. 

I killed a bug today. That may not seem like a lot, but I have a PHOBIA of bugs, so for me, that was quite the incredible feat. I have triumphed!!

I'm dorky. I'm sure you've already realized this, but thanks for putting up with it :D

~Alex