Harper: WHY???
Me: Because he grabbed my hand and dropped to his knees.
Three dots instantly appear from both of them.
Allie: HE WHAT!?!?
Harper: Peyton Sinclair! If you tell me this man fake proposed in a parking lot I will pass away!!!
Me: He dropped my hand and tied his shoe!
Allie:
Harper: I hate you.
Me: And then he looked up and asked if I’d go on a date with him Saturday night.
Three dots appear from both of them.
Allie: SCREAMING!!!
Harper: THAT IS DISGUSTINGLY CUTE!
Allie: YOU NEED A GIRLS’ DAY!!
Harper: Hair. Nails. Outfit. Emergency hot girl protocol activated.
Me: This feelsaggressive.
Allie: You’re dating a six-foot-two emotionally constipated hockey goalie who looks at you like you invented happiness.
Harper: Aggressive is necessary.
Then, suddenly, my worst nightmare appears.
Gram: I CAN COME TOO!
I stare at the screen in horror.
Me: How are you in this group chat???
Gram: Connor accidentally added me during tequila night.
Harper: How?
Allie: Dammit! He took my phone when I fell asleep! I’m going to strangle him!
Me: Fine. You can come. As long as you behave.
Gram: No
I don’t know what that means, but I’m deeply concerned.
Three hours later,I’m deeply regretting every life decision that led me here.
“This color says sexually confident but emotionallyavailable,” Harper announces while holding up a bottle of red nail polish.
“How does nail polish communicate emotional availability?” I ask.
