Page 93 of Catching the Coach
Why should I help you?
Me
Because Lucy and I belong together and you know I’m right.
Kara
Maybe… Are you done being a dick?
Me
*sigh* Yes, Kara, I’m done being a dick.
Kara
*thinking face emoji* I don’t know…
Me
Remember you said you owed me one for taking Kade to the baseball game last month?
Kara
... yes…
Me
I’m cashing in.
Kara
Fine, let’s hear it.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
lucy
“Get up!”an annoying voice yells, jarring me out of my amazing dream. I let out a groan turning over, which I soon realize is a mistake. The person that annoying voice belongs to pulls my curtains open, blinding me with sunlight.
“Gah! Kara! What the actual fuck!” I yell at her, pulling the covers over my assaulted eyes. There’s no way I’m going back to my dream now. Echoes of the dream where Kessler and I weren’t on a break, fading fast.
I hear drawers to my dresser open and close. “Here put these on.” I feel her toss something onto the covers, where my face is currently hiding.
Pulling the covers back, I squint up at the ceiling, letting my eyes adjust to the brightness. Once I’m convinced I’m not going to be blinded by the light, I sit up and see a pair of black leggings lying on the bed next to me. I raise an eyebrow at Kara, who is now rifling through my closet. “Why do I need these?” I ask, “and what are you doing in my closet?”
She ignores me and dives deeper into the back of my closet, muttering something about needing to take me shopping for more than T-shirts and jeans. Rolling my eyes, I raise my arms over my head and stretch. Last night was the first night since Kessler’s fight that I’ve slept more than a couple hours at a time. Needing to use the bathroom, I leave Kara to whatever it is that she’s doing and head into my bathroom.
When I come out Kara is out of my closet and a shirt I don’t recall buying is laying on my bed next to the leggings she pulled out for me. A pair of strappy silver sandals are on the floor. “Are you going to pick out my bra and underwear too?” I grumble.
Kara sets her hands on her hips and gives me a smirk. “I probably should, since you’ll just pick a sports bra and your granny panties.”
“I do not wear granny panties,” I retort. “And what’s wrong with sports bras? They’re comfortable and I’m all about comfort.” I pull open my drawer and grab exactly what Kara told me not to.
“Oh no you don’t,” she says, marching over to me and grabbing them out of my hands. “That shirt does not pair well with a sports bra.” She rummages around in my drawer, while I throw up my hands in defeat and flop back onto my bed.
“Why do I have to get dressed again?” I ask, propping myself up on my elbows, watching her.
She holds a lacy black matching bra and panty set up like a trophy and tosses them to me. “Because, Marlene invited us over for brunch, and we’re going.”
