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Erica POV
I'd never have imagined that a quiet Friday night in would end with plexiglass shards on my arm and the scent of peppermint seared into my memory. But then, Alexis was involved, and with her, "quiet" had always been relative.
I'd settled onto the sofa around eight, surrounded by textbooks for my Plantagenet succession exam and armed with enough snacks to fuel an army or at least an omega cramming for academic domination. My hair was piled into a messy bun, my raccoon-eye mascara an unintentional fashion statement, and my pyjamas resembled a waddling penguin more than human attire. I had just started a particularly dry section on Marxist learning theories when Alexis burst through the door.
"You cannot be serious, Erica. It's Friday night!" she announced, tossing her keys onto the counter with theatrical flair. Her skintight black jeans and impossibly tall-heeled ankle boots contrasted sharply with my comfort-first ensemble. She looked exactly like she belonged on a glossy magazine cover or at a nightclub, not in our cramped student flat.
I glared up at her. "Isn't it obvious? I'm working." I held up my open textbook, hoping the sight of my feeble notes would dissuade her.
She perched on the edge of the sofa, fingers drumming on the armrest. "You have an exam in three days. One evening out won't kill you."
I sighed. "You mean one evening out at the hockey game where you flirt shamelessly with sweaty strangers who smell like" I paused, aware of how that must sound. "pine-sap and broken dreams. That kind of 'fun'?"
Alexis's eyes sparkled. "That kind of fun."
I leaned back, crossing my arms. "Lex, I've never been a sporty person. I prefer historical walks and cafes with quinoa salads." I planted my gaze firmly on my textbook, hoping she'd take the hint.
But she didn't. Instead she grinned. "That's exactly why you need this. You've been holed up in here since Monday. Get out of your penguin suit and come with me."
My resistance melted at the sight of her sheepish expression. Only Alexis could beg with such puppy-dog sincerity. "Fine," I muttered, closing the book. "Let me feed Potato and change clothes."
"Deal." She hopped off the sofa and snagged the remote, tossing it onto the nearby coffee table. "Hurry up. The tram's here in twenty."
Potato, my judgmental mini lop rabbit, received her dinner with a grudging apology. "Don't give me that look," I scolded, as her twitchy nose surveyed the pellets. She wasn't impressed, but I'd promised Alexis, and she was never pleased until I at least tried.
In my bedroom, I rummaged through my closet. Jeans and boots were out; my arm didn't need extra rubbing. Instead I grabbed the yellow-and gold-hoodie Alexis had insisted matched the Polar Blades' team colors, plus a loose pair of leggings. My hair got a quick brush, though I left it tied up. Anything to avoid risking an extra tram stop for a shampoo.
"Let's go," I announced, slipping my feet into slip-on ankle boots. Alexis appeared behind me, appraising my outfit.
"A bit... relaxed?" she said, one eyebrow arching.
I shrugged. "Comfort first." She huffed and grabbed her leather jacket. "You look fine. We're late."
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