No really, I'm okay. I'm also a great liar.

annabelle in a bandanna doesn't get pushed off a couch by haze not in a bandanna

I feel like my parents really didn't get what they expected when Bonnie, Felicity, and Annabelle burst through the back door.

They're a lively bunch, much more fun and energetic than my parents are used to.

Actually, they're much more fun and energetic than my parents in general.

Dinner is an interesting affair, at least for me. I'm amused by my parents sitting stiffly, surprised by these people I have associated myself with.

They're slightly uncomfortable with the boisterousness of the company, and I find it amusing. Annabelle (who has her hair tied up with a bandanna — it's like she wants me to combust) shoots me several looks, to which I motion that I'll tell her later.

Which I do, when we're cuddling on the couch watching Great British Bake Off reruns.

I can feel her chest move up and down under my cheek as she giggles. I then dance my fingertips across the warm strip of exposed skin where her shirt rode up a bit.

All the other people are in another room, talking. I can hear them faintly, but I kind of tuned everything out except for Annabelle's breathing and the show at hand.

It's around eleven at night when I'm shaken awake both roughly and awkwardly by my father, who seems to not know how to approach a gay couple.

"They're getting ready to leave, sweetie." I nod groggily, trying to blink away the sleep in my eyes, and he leaves.

I poke Annabelle in the cheek multiple times. When that does nothing, I take the pillow from under her head and whack her pretty face with it.

She mumbles some sort of protest, which obviously means she's not awake enough for my standards.

I hit her with the pillow again.

This girl is impossible. I'm considering pushing her off the couch when Bonnie comes over, takes one look at me, and immediately realizes the situation.

She snaps her fingers real loud right into Annabelle's ear, causing my datemate's eyelids to shoot open, revealing her sweet, panicked brown eyes for the world to see.

She makes an indiscernible, annoyed noise, and looks at me with a halfhearted, half-lidded glare. I shrug, doe-eyed.

"You're lucky. I was gonna push you off the couch."

"You're the worst girlfriend ever," Annabelle mutters, pecking me on the tip of my nose and rolling off the couch.

Ten minutes later, I get a text from Felicity — a picture of Annabelle sleeping in the car.

we could've just carried her out and she would've kept on sleeping

I know, she sleeps like a rock

And then I head up to my room, making a show of it so that my parents will go to bed, too. (They sometimes stay up too late, not realizing it. And it doesn't help with my mom's insomnia.)

I stay up another hour or two, writing. It feels nice.

In general during the last couple months, I haven't had as much time as usual to write. Sure, I write with Annabelle, but I also spend ninety percent of my free time used for writing with Annabelle. And the closing months of the school year are always jam-packed.

And I'd forgotten how familiar my bedroom was. I have a couple sweatshirts in my closet that I didn't bring with me, and they smell so good and feel so soft. The color is relaxing, lulling me to sleep much easier than I remembered.

Maybe I won't have to escape to Jenna's as often as last summer.

a/n: hi sorry this is 19 minutes late if anyone cares also i saw beauty and the beast and omgoodness it was so good! also also i'm listening to jon bellion thanks to bluetrxy and also also also i really love jenna marbles like not many people can make me laugh like she does so thank you for existing