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Pen Your Pride

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"I can't believe we're living together," Charlotte exclaimed after I had called her. I was sitting on my bed, which was draped with a white duvet and numerous maroon pillows.  I had my laptop pulled out in front of me, searching Netflix into Google so I could catch up on Supernatural.

"I can't believe Mom told you before me." I laughed.

"Aren't you glad I kept it a secret until now? Nice surprise, right?" She said, "Sam is thrilled. We could be like Charlie's Angels!" I scoffed and Char continued, "Your soon-to-be bedroom has an amazing view, by the way."

It was after Charlotte's old roommate had moved out in the fall when she had asked me to spend the summer living with her. She had a spare bedroom (which I had spent many sleepovers in) so I thought, why not? And now, it was finally happening.

"How much of your room do you have packed up to bring?"

"Um," I glanced at the suitcases sprawled across the floor, "About ninety percent."

Charlotte basically yodeled, "YAAAAAS! Your mom said Sunday can be the earliest you move in."

"I think maybe you've been hanging out with Sam a little too much, Char." I chuckle, pressing play on my computer.

I heard Sam's muffled voice in the background of the outgoing call, "There is no such thing as 'too much' of me!"

I burst out in laughter, "Whatever, guys. I have the last leg of a Supernatural marathon I have to attend to."

"You love Jenson Ackles more than us." Char pouted and I muttered a "maybe" before saying goodbye and ending the call.

Five episodes and a three slices of pizza later, I hear the front door open and close. I closed my laptop, rushing downstairs to the foyer to find my mother hanging up her purse and keys, "Mom!" I yelled out and she jumped. Her tired brown eyes sparked with surprise. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, murmuring, "Thank you,"

She smiled as I pulled away, "You're welcome, Rhea. But I have rules." It was then when I noticed her dark brown hair was tied in a messy bun at the nape of her neck, strands falling in front of her face, "I wrote them down because—" She yawned, "I'm about to pass—" Yawn. "out. Oh, my goodness."

She handed me a post-it note before rushing upstairs, "Move in day is Sunday!" I nearly squealed as I scanned the list:

- no drinking

-check with me everyday

-no nightclubs past 12am  (ha, nice one, Mom. Char doesn't leave her bed.)

-DRUGS ARE BAD

-no going out passed 1am!

I rushed to room, determined to finish my packing before midnight.

________________________

Saturday came quicker than I thought. I hadn't realized I'd be so nervous about going to a rock concert. Several texts from Sam seemed to calm me down:

OMG CRISIS

PLS SEND HELP

NONE OF MY SHOES MATCH

I AM HAVING A BITCH FIT

It was nearing six o'clock and I had just forced myself out of bed to get ready. I pulled on a navy blue and gray striped pullover and black skinny jeans, pairing them with my black converse. I snapped a picture of myself and sent it to Sam, which initiated a fast reply:

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