Joren stirred awake,
his eyes half-lidded as he scanned the room. The morning light crept in through the blinds, casting soft rays across the room.
His gaze drifted to the bunk opposite his. Dale was still asleep, sprawled out like a starfish, one leg dangling off the edge of his bed.
Joren stared at the ceiling.
*Today’s the day.*
The outing with Zuri. The sa outing that now doubled as a date with Lana.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his face. "Man... it’s gonna be a long day."
He reached for his phone and saw a ssage from Zuri.
He opened it.
It was simple. Straight to the point: Start getting your things ready. I’ll call you later with the et-up location.
Joren stared at the screen for a mont. He checked the ti. It was 7:36 AM.
*Get ready... this early?*
He thought to himself, already getting up from bed.
*Well... I better tell Lana to get ready too.*
He sighed and called her number.
No answer.
He tried again.
This ti, she picked up. Her voice was groggy, and it was clear she had just woken up. "What’s up? Why are you calling this early?"
"It’s about the outing," Joren said.
There was a pause. Then a sigh. "Let guess... you want to bail out?"
"No," he said quickly. "I don’t."
"Then what is it?"
"I just wanted to tell you to get dressed and start packing. Zuri’s supposed to call soon with the eting spot."
Another pause. Then she hissed. "Fine. But you’re coming over to help pack."
Joren blinked. "Can’t you do it yourself?"
"If you don’t co," she said, her voice sharpening, "I’m not going."
He groaned. "Okay, okay. I’m coming."
She hung up without another word.
Joren sighed and dragged himself out of bed. After a quick shower, he got dressed, grabbed the duffel bag he’d packed the night before — a couple of shirts, jeans, and toiletries, and slung it over his shoulder.
Then he stepped out, locking the door behind him with Dale still inside (Dale had his keys with him.), and started heading to Lana’s apartnt.
Joren walked through campus with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. It was early enough that the usual buzz of students hadn’t started yet — just a few scattered figures here and there, heading to early classes or jogging across the quad.
He passed under the archway near the science building and made a quick detour to Bean & Latte.
Inside, he ordered a coffee to go. He took the steaming cup, nodded his thanks to tthe barista, and stepped back out into the morning light.
It didn’t take long to reach Lana’s apartnt. He climbed the short flight of stairs and knocked on her door.
No answer.
He knocked again, a little louder this ti.
After a mont, he heard a muffled voice from inside, groggy and lazy. "Coming..."
The door creaked open, and Lana stood there, blinking sleepily. Her hair was tousled, and she was still in her pajamas — a thin, oversized shirt that hung off one shoulder and shorts that hugged her thighs.
Joren’s eyes flicked up, taking in the view.
She squinted at him. "What are you staring at?"
"Nothing," he said, clearing his throat.
She stepped aside, letting him in.
The apartnt was dimly lit, quiet, and a bit ssy, clothes scattered across the couch.
Joren stepped inside, sipping his coffee, trying to look as calm and composed as possible, but inside, he was already exhausted — there was much work to be done.
He sank into the couch with a sigh, setting his coffee on the side table.
"Okay," he said, rubbing his palms together. "Let’s get packing before Zuri calls ."
Lana, still standing near the door, raised an eyebrow. "You’re sitting on my clothes."
Joren blinked. "Huh?"
He shifted slightly and reached under himself, pulling out a handful of fabric.
They weren’t regular clothes.
A lingerie and a bikini. The bikini looked suspiciously new, and almost see-through.
Joren froze, holding it like it was a divine gift, fighting the urge to give them a good sniff.
His brain imdiately imagined Lana wearing it, sriking every seductive pose he could think of.
Lana went to him and it from his hand, a sowhat weary look on her face. "Stop staring at them like that. You’re being creepy."
Joren chuckled, raising his hands. "Sorry. My bad."
He cleared his throat. "So... have you started packing?"
Lana rolled her eyes and disappeared into her room. A mont later, she returned, dragging a massive bag behind her — the kind people use for cross-country travel, not weekend getaways.
Joren stared. "Why are you carrying so much stuff?"
"It’s not that much," she said, brushing her hair back.
"It is," he said. "It’s just for the weekend. You’ll have to reduce it."
She frowned. "Fine. But you’re the one who’ll reduce it. I can’t pack twice."
Joren muttered sothing under his breath — sothing about stubborn and lazy won — but got to work anyway.
Lana stood beside him, arms crossed, supervising like a fashion critic.
He began sorting through the clothes, pulling out tops, dresses, and a suspiciously large number of swimsuits.
Then his hand brushed against sothing... odd.
He frowned, reached in, and pulled it out.
A tampon.
Joren stared at it.
Then slowly turned to Lana.
She was frozen. Face red. Eyes wide, fixed on him.
Then, without a word, he slowly placed it back into the bag and continued sorting like nothing happened.
Neither of them spoke, but Joren knew. If a single word should spread...
Reviews
All reviews (0)