Diane pov
Jame's flat wasn't what I expected, though. I guessed that I'd sort of figured out a flashy car and the pricey shoes meant he was well-off. But he lived in a studio apartment that was a little banged up and run down. There was a futon folded down into a bed already against one wall, a 52-inch flat screen TV hanging on the wall opposite the bed. And there was an Xbox hooked up beneath it. He possessed costly electronics, but everything else seemed to be somewhat lacking.
Perhaps it was less about not having the
money, however, and more about where his priorities were at.
“Want something to drink?” he inquired, opening up the fridge. He pulled out a beer and offered it to me.
“Uhh no thanks,” I answered. Please just give me some water.
James pulled out a plastic cup with the
