Shaking off the exhaustion that began to weigh down on me, I shrugged on a fresh shirt and my favourite pair of jeans. Then I leant over and peered into the mirror - this room was obviously prepared for someone of a smaller stature - and dragged a comb through the blonde mess.
When I was satisfied that it was somewhat tamed, I turned away and let my eyes sweep across the room in case I had forgotten something. A nagging sensation was prodding at the back of my mind. It was one of guilt, telling me that I should have said no to going out tonight. I quickly pegged it down as it only being there because I need to unpack before I could think of the real reason. The reason I never want to think about again.
After grabbing my wallet from off the bedside table, I exited the room and almost walked into Karen, who was waiting right outside.
"Wow, you just don't get your privacy in this household, do you?" I muttered sarcastically, staggering backwards.
"Sorry," she sniffed, not caring at all.
Her eyes ran over me, starting from the stray hairs sticking up from my head to my designer brand trainers.
"Not too shabby," she said, trying to compliment in the only way a psychopath could. "But the jeans..." Her facial expression was one of discomfort but her tone sounded across between annoyance and admiration. An odd pair, if you ask me.
"What? What's wrong with my jeans?" My eyes flicked down and instantly began scanning for stains.
"They're a bit tight," she murmured, blushing.
"Oh," I replied, trying not to laugh. "Well I did buy them when I was a sophomore in high school. I just haven't had the heart to throw them away yet."
I noticed her eyes were still looking at them. Specifically at the crotch area. Perhaps that's what she meant when she was growling "what a dick" earlier, the joke formed in my mind.
"Besides, with them and my American accent, I'll be irresistible to your girlfriends."
Karen's face snapped up as shot me a dirty look.
"Yeah right. Just try not to embarrass me tonight."