picture this //h.s. au//

Chapter 10

Dedicated to xonedirecton-- for giving me lots of love on this story

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I wake up early the next morning. Connor still isn't home so I decide to get some cleaning done since he won't be around to get in my way. While both Connor and I like the idea of having a spotless apartment, neither of us posses the motivation or skill to keep it that way, so by the weekend it's almost always the equivalent of a bomb site.

I shuffle around the apartment, sweeping up crumbs and takeout containers and wiping suspicious substances from the kitchen counter. I grab the trash and stumble into the freezing air, hurriedly tossing the bags in the large dumpster outside of our complex, then jogging back inside, eager to escape the biting wind. Once I've finished washing the dishes, I'm feeling pretty good about my clean-up effort and head to the bathroom to take a shower.

I relax as the hot water pounds into my back and I lean the back of my head against the cool tile wall. I let my mind wander to the upcoming party, and nervous butterflies flit around in my stomach. I'd been to a few parties in high school and they had been fun, but I wouldn't exactly call myself an expert on the subject of getting roaring drunk and dancing (poorly) with people I don't know. Apprehension stirs in my stomach as I wash my hair, but unfortunately the feeling doesn't fade along with the soap bubbles.

Shaking off my doubts, I step out of the shower and quickly towel off. As I enter my room I realize I have a very big dilemma- I have nothing to wear. And not in the sense that my favorite pair of jeans are dirty and I have "nothing to wear," I mean that every single last item of clothing I own is crammed into my laundry hamper and starting to smell more than a little rank.

I groan and stomp in to Connor's closet-sized bedroom. I search through his drawers until I come across a plain white shirt and some running leggings that I'd bought him when I was trying to encourage him to get into fitness (he's never touched them). The shirt is too long and the running leggings do nothing for my unfortunate figure but desperate times call for desperate measures. I search the room for Connor laundry basket, but when I locate, it's empty. He must have taken his clothes over to Dylan's to wash them there.

Miffed that he hadn't thought to bring my clothes too, I march back into my room and dump the contents of my hamper into a laundry bag. I drag it to the front door, cram a hat on my head, stuff my feet into my boots and rip Connor's nicest winter jacket from the hook and shove that on as well. That will teach him to make me do my own laundry. Smirking, I hoist the bag over my shoulder and stumble out of the door. I'm about to lock up the apartment when I notice an envelope stuck right below our apartment number. I glance around surreptitiously then drop the bag and peel the envelope away from the door. A thick slip of paper sits inside and I pull it out and unfold it.

Lavender, it reads,

I'm leaving you some extra money. It's a gift so no need to repay me or anything like that. Think of it as a thank you for your contributions on new ideas for Picture This. I hope to see you at the party tonight.

-H.

PS. Here's the address again since you probably lost the paper: 6674 Bent Maple Drive

PPS. Marlene told me which apartment was yours. I have NOT been stalking you.

I realize with some chagrin that I have, in fact, lost the paper with his address on it. I glance inside the envelope and sure enough, there are a few 20 dollar bills folded up in the corner. Pleasantly surprised that no one from my building hapened along and took the money, I smile slightly.