Prideful Shirts

3: Let's Go

There is only one happiness in this life, to love and be loved.
~ George Sand

I wake up slowly. For awhile, I just lay there on my bed staring at my ceiling while my mind wakes up properly. After a few minutes, I turn on my phone. The date catches my eye. I stare at it and remember the previous day's incidents. The word Saturday seems to stare at me as my grin widens slowly. It's Saturday, the day of the weekly club meeting. Once my smile is as wide as it can go, I leap excitedly out of bed and out into the hall.

"Imogen, get up! Its club day today!" I exclaim after knocking on her door rapidly and repeatedly. I hear her groan inside her room and I rush to the kitchen to make some coffee. I know she'll need it. I happily him to myself while preparing our coffees, putting two teaspoons of sugar into both mugs but only adding milk to mine. Soon after, Imogen sleepily stumbles into the kitchen, wiping her eyes with the back of her fingers.

"Coffee." She mumbles, holding out her hand. Unable to help myself, I giggle at her cute behavior and appearance when she's sleepy. Imogen's black hair is frizzy and sticking out every which way and her pajamas are slightly ruffled. She keeps yawning, too. I carefully place the mug with Imogen's coffee into her hands before picking up my own mug. Hers is just plain grey while mine is white with a black cat on it. What can I say, I'm a cat person.

Imogen goes into the living room with her coffee while I stay in the kitchen, deciding to make a proper breakfast for us since today we're actually going out and doing something. I start making pancakes, occasionally sipping my coffee while I do. Once I make two large pancakes for each of us, I start working on cooking scrambled eggs and bacon. I make a plentiful supply of both then divide the food into two plates. I pour maple syrup all over mine while leaving Imogen's plate blank, since she doesn't like eating sweet things in the morning.

I walk into the living room and put my coffee on the table between the couch and the TV stand before going back into the kitchen. I then pour Imogen and I each a glass of orange juice, bringing those into the living room as well. Imogen looks at me weirdly when I do but soon goes back to watching whatever she's watching on the TV. I then balance our two plates on my hands, one on each palm, and enter the living room. I call out cheerily,

"Imogen, breakfast!" She turns her head and gapes at me, obviously surprised. I hand her her plate of food and put mine on the table and rush temporarily into the kitchen to get each of us silverware. I hand Imogen a fork and knife and she then says to me,

"Thank you." She looks at the food before looking at me with narrowed eyes, "You did this because of the club we're going to this afternoon, didn't you?" I smile sheepishly and her and rub the back of my head with my right hand,

"You caught me! I couldn't help it though, today is special. Who knows, we might leave there with numbers or dates!" I tell her, getting even more thrilled at the idea of this club.

"Wow, you really are excited to go to this thing! What is it called, anyway?" Imogen asks. I respond,

"It's called Prideful Shirts, I believe." I consider it for a moment, "Yeah, that sounds right." Imogen scoffs and shakes her head slightly, smiling at me,

"You and your bad memory. You'd lose your head if it wasn't attached to you." We both laugh for a bit but then focus on eating our breakfasts. I soon notice what's on the TV and freeze.

"Did you put on what I think you put on?" I inquire, snarling at the TV with distaste.

"Maybe." Imogen simply replies. I turn to look at her and see her grinning deviously. I glare at her and go back to eating my breakfast, avoiding looking at the TV.

"I really hate you sometimes." I mumble under my breath.

"Oh come on Freya, you know you love me." Imogen says with a smile. I just sigh since I can't really argue. I love her more than she knows.

"Yeah, but I hate that movie." I retort a few moments later, pointing angrily at the TV screen. Imogen lets out a short, wicked laugh,

"I know, that's why I put it on! I wanted to see your reaction." I stick my tongue out at her and finish my breakfast, downing the rest of my orange juice and taking my dishes into the kitchen. I place them in the sink to wash later and speed walk to my room, calling out to Imogen in the living room,

"Enjoy the terrible movie!"

"Unlike you, I will!" She yells back. I close my door and put on music to make sure I can't hear the movie playing on the TV. I do not want to hear the (in my opinion) horrible movie adaptation of the phenomenal book Vampire Academy. It just makes me mad how many little things they get wrong that are so easy to do. I understand not everything can be put into movies but when they get important information wrong or mess up little, easy details about characters and such, it's aggravating.

I read in my room for a couple hours, letting Imagine Dragons drown out sounds from outside my room. At around 11:00, I decide to start getting ready for the club, which starts at 1. Where it's held is only about 10 minutes from our apartment when walking, so I have plenty of time to get ready. Firstly, I take a quick shower. Afterwards, I dry my hair and brush it, making sure it's not knotted at all. I then straighten it so my normally wavy, long, dark brown hair flows straight down my back. Then, I put on minimal makeup, only putting on concealer under my eyes, black and white eyeshadow, black eyeliner and a bright pink lipstick.

Once I'm done with my makeup, I get dressed. I put on my shirt and my favorite pair of jeans. They're navy blue skinny jeans that make my butt look fantastic. On top of my T-Shirt, I wear my black and purple plaid flannel. To top it all off, I pull on my black Doc Martens. They're the best boots out there, well that's what I think anyway. I put on my lucky silver heart necklace and the silver ring I was given when I was 16 with my birthstone, sapphire, on it.

All done with getting ready, I exit my room with my purse and enter the living room. Imogen is sitting on the couch, ready to go. Her hair is up in a ponytail and she's wearing no makeup, since she prefers to look natural when meeting people. She's wearing the shirt I got her with a pair of light blue jeans and a black hoodie with her blue converse. I stop to admire her appearance for a moment, unable to help myself.

"Ready to go?" I clear my throat and ask. Imogen turns to look at me and smiles nervously,

"Yeah. Let's go."