"Get up," my roommate said kicking my legs. I groaned and burrowed my head deeper into the pillow refusing to be pulled out of my dreams.
"I will get a bucket of water. Don't doubt me," Natalie warned. My eyes snapped open and I slid my gaze up to look at her.
"You wouldn't," I growled.
"Don't test me. Now get up. Go sleep in your bed," she said walking away.
"But the couch is so comfy," I whined.
"It's one in the afternoon. Just because you're off today doesn't mean you can spend it sleeping the entire day," Natalie said in a chastising tone. I made a face at her behind her back.
I sat up on the couch and stretched my arms high above my head until I heard the satisfying crack of my lower back popping.
"Ah," I sighed in relief. There is no greater feeling then popping your back. Well…there is, but you get my point. It feels really good.
"Alright, you got me up. Now what are we doing?" I inquired as I stood up and headed for the kitchen where Natalie was pouring herself a glass of orange juice.
She screwed the lid back on the container and gave me a blank stare.
"How in the hell am I supposed to know? I just wanted you to move off the couch so I could sit down and watch some television," she simply replied.
I narrowed my eyes. "I seriously hate you sometimes."
She opened the fridge and placed the orange juice back on the shelf. Closing the door, she turned back to me.
"I'm sorry, did you say something?"
"Nothing at all," I sneered.
"So the speed dating thing was a bust," she said taking a sip of her orange juice.
I sighed, raking a hand back through my dark, curly locks. My fingers got entangled in my hair making me wince slightly from the unexpected pain. I pulled my fingers free and met her stormy blue eyes that were filled with amusement. A smile twitched at the edges of her lips.
"Shut up," I snapped. "And yes it was. No thanks to you."
"I am offended," she said with absolutely no emotion. She took another drink of her orange juice.
"But it wasn't a complete bust," she tacked on as she rested her elbows on the kitchen bar that separated the living room from the kitchen.
I cocked a dark brow in curiosity. "What do you mean?"
She sighed. "Play smart instead of stupid for once. I'm talking about that major hottie with the accent that sat down at your table at the end of the night. Or have you gone completely insane?"
"No…I just…forgot," I lied. In actuality I hadn't been able to STOP thinking about him.
Natalie rolled her eyes at my obvious lie. "Whatever. Do you think you will see him again like he said you guys probably would?" she inquired before finishing the rest of her juice.
I shrugged. "I don't know…I kind of do want to see him, but at the same time I don't."
"Because can you imagine going out with a guy like that? I would feel insecure the entire time when I was around him. I would constantly be wondering if my hair looked ok or if I had something stuck in my teeth or some other girlish thought like that," I sighed.
She nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I'd be self-conscious, too, but look at it this way: if you were to go out with a guy like that…imagine all the envious girls, you know? They'd be wondering why a guy like him was with you."
I narrowed my eyes at her backwards compliment. "That doesn't exactly help the situation, Natalie."
She shrugged. "I'm not here to help you with your relationship and insecurity problems. I'm just here to split half of the rent so I don't have to live in a dorm and bathe in those disgusting, hair filled showers," she said with a shudder.
I shuddered as well remembering all the hair I would find clumped up by the drain. Utterly disgusting.
"So we still haven't answered the question as to what we are doing today," I reminded her.
Natalie slid the hair tie out of her blonde hair to let it hang loose around her shoulders. She ruffled her hair out a little bit before tucking it behind her ears.
"Then allow me to suggest something very cliché," she said. "Let's go to the mall!" Natalie mocked in a high pitched voice as she clapped her hands together.
"Um, wouldn't the cliché line be 'let's have a slumber party'?"
Her eyes narrowed into dark blue slits. "We're not 12. Vice versa the numbers and then you have our age. Our clichéd line is 'let's go to the mall!' or 'let's throw a party!'" she explained.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my keys off the kitchen bar from where I had tossed them the night before after we had gotten home from speed dating.
I turned to walk away and head for the door. When I swung it open, I noticed Natalie wasn't behind me. She was still standing at the bar.
"Come on," I urged.
"If you think I'm letting you drive again, you're crazy," she replied shaking her head.
"What's wrong with my driving?"
"Last night you ran two red lights, drove 60 in a 35 zone, nearly wrecked into a ditch when you "drifted" around the sharp corner, and about backed into a parked car when we arrived home. Need I go on?" she ticked off each violation on her finger.
I rolled my eyes. "Fine, you drive," I conceded with a grumble. Natalie smiled in triumph and quickly approached me. She snatched the keys out of my fingers with a wide grin.
"Alright, let's head to the mall!"
"Just so you know," I said as I locked and shut the door. "If this car was a black '67 Chevy Impala, the only way you'd be driving is if you pried the keys from my dead, cold fingers."
"But I thought you had already died inside a long time ago?" Natalie retorted as we made our way down the steps of our apartment building.
"Irrelevant," I said using the line she always used on me.
She glared at me from the corner of her eye.
"That's my line."
"You act like I give a damn."
She sighed. "Let's just go to the mall before one of us ends up killing the other."
"Fine by me."
"Maybe we'll see him again," she teased as we approached her baby blue 2006 Honda Accent.
I rolled my eyes and opened the passenger side door.
"If only our luck loved us that much. We, unfortunately, have the luck of Dean Winchester that somehow always winds up in Hell, figuratively and literally."