You said you’d be over in half an hour, but it’s now been almost an hour and you still aren’t even nearly ready to leave your flat. You check the clock- 9 o’clock. Okay so technically you do still have enough time, but you’re later than you intended, bleh.
You wriggle into your shorts and slip a crop top over your head until you realise that you’re not near enough wearing what she was last time you met. So instead, you make a grab for a different one that’s strapless, much shorter and could probably pass off as being a bra if you wanted it to. One pair of boots and a fuchsia and black plaid shirt later and you’re out of the door, grabbing your bag from the floor as you leave.
You take the car this time, which somehow manages to take longer, but you’re there in no time and you push open the familiar door. Looking around, you don’t see many people you know since most of your classmates are going home for summer, but you do recognise one particular person behind the bar, and you can’t help but stare. You just can’t believe you’ve never seen her before in a bar she works at that you go to at least fairly regularly, at least.
Shaking off the weird feeling, you head over, making sure to sway your hips just in case she looks your way.
“Pint of Carlsberg,” you say, hoping to draw her attention.