21
This is the first time I’ve been in Erin’s flat. It’s pretty nice. Second floor of a four-storey building. Light blue walls. Wooden floors. Really fancy for an eighteen-year-old. The living room/kitchen is small, but cosy, and there’s definitely a strong girl-vibe coming from the frilly purple pillows on the white couch, and the framed photos of cute cats and dogs. Didn’t take Erin as the cutesy type. Must belong to her flatmate.
“So, is this place expensive to rent?” I ask her, leaning back on the couch, taking a swig of beer from my bottle. For the first time all night, I actually feel stress-free, like I’m just catching up with a friend. God help me if this was an actual date. This couch would be drenched in nervous sweat.
“Extortionate,” Erin replies, topping up her glass of red
