"okay, so before you go into your room and, like, kill me, i should mention a couple of things. i wasn’t alone in this! it was benjamin’s idea so, really, he should be the one who’s head should roll. secondly, alistair paid for the car, well van really, we used to transport everything so it’s just as much his fault as it is mine or bens. and lastly that it was you that wouldn’t tell me what you wanted for your birthday— you were useless— and told me to use my imagination. so i did, well, we did. and this is what we came up with: we turned your room into a ball pit! yay us! yay you! yay eighteen! happy birthday!”
"you did what?!" she’s hysterical—lost between the emotional spectrum. should she cry or laugh or something horrible in between? what kind of friends was she cursed with that they filled her room with plastic balls for her birthday. how was this a gift? with a deep sigh, she shuts her eyes and slowly opens the door. "you are an idiot" she’s treading her way through the piles upon piles of colourful toys that lay her floor. her bed, her shoes, her desk all disappeared underneath their ‘gift’ for her. "but you three are brilliant" racing back out to her door, she takes her hand and dives into the pit, taking him with her.
ten minutes later she’s giving basically everyone she can a phone call—come down to dorm s3a!—inviting them to make as much use of this as they can.