met at the gala

Chapter 2

What sucks about the Met Gala is that it's always on the first Monday of May. We usually don't get a day off for the next day, but on this one rare occasion, Miss Giardino gave us today off.  I roll over on my bed and grab my phone. I curiously look back on the napkin with the phone number. I build up the courage, and before I lose it, I punch in the numbers. I text, Hi, it's Mia from last night. I debate if I should send a smiley face, and decide it would be better not to, and push send. 

To distract myself, I scroll through Instagram my feed overflowed with all the Met Gala posts from last night. After a while, I get out of bed, prepare some lazy breakfast (which consists of cereal and sausages), and set up my tv to play the continual to the tv show I've been binging. I hear the familiar ding of my phone and grab it. Can I come over? A message from Courtney. I sigh with disappointment and reply, of course! I'm watching The Office. The next thing I hear is a familiar knock just like the one from Do You Want To Build a Snowman?  I walk over and unlock the door, letting her in. Courtney crawls over to the sofa and makes herself at home.

"Yes, just what I needed, Some good ol' Michael Scott." She says rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes.

"Did you eat breakfast?" I ask her.

"Eh. Just play the episode already." I obey, clicking the play button. After spending the next three hours watching, I hear two dings from my phone.

I look over at Courtney, "Are you serious? I'm right here, just tell me." I say, assuming from her habit of texting me in the same room.

"No, I didn't text you! I've been texting my sister!" She looks over at me, slightly offended. Still not believing her, I grab my phone and look at my notifications. 

Hi, it's Michael from last night. I smile. Like I wouldn't know. Weirdo. I look under that message. 

And the suit is dry. The water did nothing except making my designer angry at me for ruining the fabric. I scrunch my eyebrows. Is this guy serious? Rubbing it in was uncalled for. I think about what to say. Wait, how do I reply to that? I start typing. 

And I thought it was made out of metal like the clothing in the future. Satisfied, I hit send. WAIT. I was supposed to wait! For once why didn't I take my own advice? Shoving that thought away I turn off my phone and stare at the bigger screen watching Michael Scott come with bubble wrap around his foot Courtney and I end up watching until we finish the season.

"Okay, but what happens next!? Don't they have another season?" She looks over at me excitedly.

"Um, I guess we could start it... But we wasted half a day already." I reply.

"Fine, a game?" she asks.

We play with cards, playing Spit. Even though she's 3 floors away, Courtney stays the night, and we watch movies until we fall asleep.

My alarm goes off, and I gently shake Courtney awake. "Sometimes I wonder if it's worth paying your rent down at your place," I mumble.

"Whadichusay?" Courtney looks over at me through sleepy eyes.

"Nothing. Rise and shine. Time to head over to work." I prepare breakfast for two, and after eating, she goes down to her own place to get ready. I hear another set of dings. Scrolling through, I find two messages.

No, it's fabric. Also, good morning. :) I think through how I can reply to Michael, and send back a message after waiting barely a minute.