Coffee & Karma

Four

A/N: Bonus part this week! Hope you guys are enjoying the story. Don't forget to vote and comment so I can see who's keen for updates - the more I get the more frequently I'll update!

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Wednesday blurred into Thursday and Thursday to Friday and when it got to Saturday morning I was so disoriented I woke early like it was a weekday. It was when I was sitting at the counter with my cereal and caught sight of the calendar that I found my bearings, and crawled back to bed for another few hours of sleep.

It was my roommate who woke me the second time, more forceful and less peaceful. She ripped my blankets off me and jumped on my bed, her cheerful energy attempting to transfer into me. Every cell in my body rejected it like poison.

I didn't like to be woken up.

"I'm hungry, I need to buy a dress, and I don't like doing either of those things alone. Get up you lazy dummkopf."

I unleashed a groan and rolled over, not caring my singlet had scrunched into a crop over night. "Speaking a language I can't understand this early is rude, especially if it's insulting."

"You insult me in your weird ass language every second day." She laughed, making me pull the pillow over my head. "It's only fair."

"Touche, baka," I mumbled into my mattress.

"Get up."

"No."

"Now!"

"But muuuum," I whined.

"Izumi no-middle-name Taylor! Get your Asian ass out of bed right now or I'm getting the bucket."

I was on my feet in two seconds. The bucket was not something I wanted to experience again.

Evie, now satisfied with my consciousness, skipped out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

"Be ready in half an hour!" She sang. A few moments later I heard the doors to her room close, her screamo music filtering through the wood. It made me laugh at the walking contradiction I'd adopted as a best friend and near enough sister. She was doing a degree in graphic design but minoring in music performance, and despite her tendency to like angry girl music or rock, she had a lifelong aspiration to become a concert pianist.

I thought about the piece she was currently composing - of which she regularly remained in our study with the upright piano until late with - as I organized myself. I showered, not having time to bother with makeup, and was in the entrance within thirty-two minutes, one shoe on and with my sweater sitting crooked on my frame.

Evie's black rimmed eyes ran the length of me, disapproving of my outfit. I knew what she was seeing; I was a frog compared to the princess she thought I could be, especially in comparison with her flawlessness.

"You gave me half an hour," I justified, sliding on my other ballet flat and slinging my handbag over my shoulder. She held the look of apprehension and I just unlocked the deadbolt, opening the door. "Let's just go get your damned food."

Evie voiced her lack of trust in my driving skills so early in the morning say that "If you can't dress yourself you can't drive yourself", so I dozed in the passenger seat of her Sedan on the way to breakfast.

By the time we arrived to the shopping centre I had enough caffeine in my body to keep my eyes open, only to be dragged from store to store in search of a dress. Evie was the Queen of Shopping, which made me think I should engrave that title into a crown and give it to her for her birthday. She was the root of the phrase shop 'til you drop, and I was yet to see her drop.