Times - h.s.

The Mixed Paint

     Mark insisted on taking us to lunch at a caffe he just discovered that was "to die for". What he didn't know was that I had been here numerous times to grab food for Brin & I. This was our favorite spot.

The car ride was filled with numerous questions about each other, the both of us trying to figure out more without overstepping any boundaries.

"Where exactly do you live?" Mark asked while turning the steering wheel so calmly with his left hand, his right resting on the gear between us.

"I live around the outskirts of LA, the drive to work is about 10 minutes." I looked out the window and was taking in the scenery, not trying to look at Mark in fear of me turning bright red again.

"For how long?" Mark pondered. "I mean, for how long have you lived here?" He corrected himself.

"My whole life, actually. That's if you count living in LA County as living in LA." I turned to look at him when we reached a stoplight. His eyes were trained on the road ahead and I couldn't help but examine everything about him.

The arm outstretched that was gripping onto the wheel was so toned, and he had taken off his blazer prior to entering the car, so both arms were on full display despite being covered in cloth. His fingers were tapping steadily to the song on the radio, something by what sounded like the Stones. When I looked up to his face, I could already tell by the grin plastered across it that he knew what I was doing.

"Having fun?" He mumbled, turning off the radio as we entered the parking lot, eyes never removing themselves from ahead of him.

I let out a giggle as I buried my face in my hands. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!"

Before I could process what was happening, Mark was already out and moving around the car to open my door. "Wow, a true gentleman," I mocked, causing him to jokingly bat his eyelashes.

He even opened the door to the caffe for me, and as I entered I took in the aroma of all the delectable foods. "Why don't you find us a spot, yeah? I'll order for us."

I made my way over to a table on the far end of the restaurant that was right next to the other exit, and that's when I spotted Brin making her way up the steps and into the caffe.

"Well well well, look who's here without me." She said, placing one hand on her hip while the other carried her bag and car keys. "You ass, you couldn't even reply to me when I asked what time your lunch was?"

I was about to speak, but Mark beat me to the punch, eyeing the situation at hand and responding with an, "Excuse me?"

Brin stepped aside and Mark sat in the chair across for me, looking back up at us for someone to explain the situation.

"Brin... this is Mark, my new coworker." Mark flashed his smile and as he reached out to shake Brin's hand, I continued the other half of the introduction.

"Mark, this is Brin, my friend," I was about to finish, but she beat me to the punch.

"Only friend, and the best one too. Also, the greatest roommate. I'm all in one." Brin bragged. This girl was seriously asking for me to kick her from under the table. As much as I wanted to strangle her in times like these, she was right.

Brin and I had became friends our freshman year of high school, bonding over a super popular boy band at the time. Our friendship only grew from that point on, and although we had a circle of other friends, it was really just us two at the end of the day. Whenever I had feelings of upset, Brin was there going through the same things too, more often than not. I'd never had a sister, but I always imagined that if I did have one, it would feel like the relationship I've built with Brin. We sure as hell acted like sisters, from the fighting to the loving, and even more so when we started living together our first year in college.