s h e

chapter three

By morning, all you have is a headache and out-of-focus, hazy memories of the night before. Link's boy toy, Paranoia, a Lovely Leviathan song, a tiger girl, and Winnie. Lincoln made sure to text, asking if the two of you had gotten home okay and whether or not you'd be attending dinner that weekend. He attached Joey's number, too, just in case. You groan, hauling your ass out of bed for a quick shower, and then you change for work. There's a glass of water and a couple of Advil on the nightstand, most likely left by early riser Winnie.

Walking into the hallway of the flat reveals a curious absence of the scent of cinnamon. Ever since you graduated and started working full time for the studio, switching your shift at Minnie's to weekends, Winnie's been getting up a full two hours before you to make French Toast and coffee. It was usually accompanied by a cute, positive little Post-It with something along the lines of "Have a sunshine-y day!" or "Who's the greatest dance teacher in Illinois? You are!" or "Hope that paper calls you back! They'd be stupid not to hire someone as great as you!". Yes, they're cheesy and sappy and they embody all that domestic crap you pretend to hate, but they still put a smile on your face each and every day.

The kitchen is devoid of any and all signs of life, so Winnie's definitely not home. When she isn't sleeping, the blonde spends all her spare time in "the heart of your household". Yes, she actually calls it that. There is 'You Belong With Me' by Taylor Swift playing from the ShowerMate, (which you have repeatedly told the older girl is not meant to stick to the fridge or her bedroom wall and should stay in the shower where it belongs) so it almost feels like she's somewhere in the flat. Almost.

The countertop is bare except for a travel mug of coffee (it's the cute black 'I Can't Adult Today' one) and a Post-It. But this note is different than the others. There's no smiley sun drawn in the corner, and there's a strange absence of exclamation points.

"Sorry, LLs called. Had to go in early."

That's not the part that's weirding you out. It's typical for her bitching, moaning bosses to wake her up at some ungodly hour of the morning to do their dirty work. It's most likely where she got her morning person persona.

"You should call her."

There's a wrinkly spot that looks like it's been wet in the corner. Did she spill tea or something?
More importantly... How does she know about Serena?

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On the planet Seaford, things are still a bit uncomfortable. It takes the princess a good two weeks of awkward, stuttered 'Good morning's, ignored texts, muttered excuses, and early 'Good night's to get back to normal. She still doesn't look in your eyes when you talk to her, and she rarely comes out of her room anymore, blasting Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran at all hours of the day and night, but she's semi okay now, you think. Of course, two weeks apart means she's been bonding with Kamila DeLuca, the cute little thing from Minnie's who got engaged last month (because the girl can't stand to be apart from the human race for more than a few days), and has gotten one of your coworker's crazy stories stuck in her head. This time, it's about Kam's beagle, Linus.

"-and then he ran into the tree at full speed! He was such a goofball!" She giggles, holding out her sticker covered phone to show you the most recent video of your friend's dork of a dog. The beagle really is a cutie, but you aren't really an animal person. Which is why you were fearing the upcoming conversation.

"So, Melly..." She begins casually, which is so un-Winnie-like that you have to look up at her. Winnie doesn't do casual. She's all in or all out.

"Winnie..." You try to steer her away, giving her plenty of warning for what's to come. You don't like dogs! You don't like dogs.

"Kam mentioned that the shelter just took on a new hoarding case. Apparently, this Golden Retriever breeder was pretty neglectful and the puppies all need homes. So I was wondering..."