The sunlight filters lazily through the thin curtain, painting golden stripes across the dining table. Julia's already up, sipping coffee in her worn-out hoodie with her hair tied in a messy bun. I drag myself into the kitchen, my feet barely lifting off the ground, and plop down in the chair across from her. The smell of toasted bread and scrambled eggs fills the space, grounding me in a calm I'm not sure I deserve.
She eyes me over the rim of her mug, lips curling into a mischievous grin.
"So?" she says, voice sweet, too sweet. "Did you have sex?"
I roll my eyes. "I swear to God your brain only contained the word sex! I did nooooot!"
She raises her eyebrows. "Well? You called for my sexy dress like you were going to war. You went with Felix, the infamous playboy we know won't resist you. What was I supposed to think?
I groan and cover my face. "No, I didn't have sex. I had one shot and kissed Felix. That's all."
"No making out?"
