Emily
I'd finally finished getting ready. I felt refreshed and ready for the day after my brief shower. By this point, lazy number one and lazy number two had started getting around. I still monopolized the bathroom while I dried and curled my hair, twirling each section around the hot iron, and then breaking them up with my fingers. I fumbled for my eyeliner in the drawer as I finished with my hair, and swiped the black line down over my lids, making sure that each line matched perfectly before continuing to mascara. I finally emerged from the bathroom ready aside from my obvious need to change out of my pajamas.
"Finally!" Breccan gave me an exasperated sigh as I exited the bathroom and headed for the closet. I selected a coral colored chiffron top and layered that over a white tank, before finishing the ensemble with a pair of slightly ripped white denim shorts. While the other girls got ready, I just sat down on my messy bed and surfed Instagram. They walked in and out of the bathroom for nearly an hour, constantly changing their minds about what to wear. Eventually, we went into the kitchen for breakfast, and ended up not having any luck finding food worth eating other than toast. I wished I could’ve called my mom to make us something, seeing as how I can’t cook worth anything, but both of my parents had gone to Bali without me for their twenty-fourth anniversary. I’d agreed not to make a stink about missing Bali as long as I could have friends over. Too bad neither of them can cook either.
"Well," I said, sighing dramatically poking my head back around the open fridge door, "We can have toast, or we could grab food at the mall." I looked at Breccan; her long blond hair put up into a messy bun atop her head, and then Jenna whose frizzy curls fell to her shoulders. They just shook their heads.
“Mall.” They responded all at once. The vote was unanimous. There was no way we were going to risk getting food poisoning from anything I could make out of week old leftovers, bread, and strawberry preserves older than dinosaurs.
“Alright,” I said, grabbing the keys to my beat up, red Mustang, “let’s go.”
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Simply Perfect: Niall Horan Fan Fiction
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