Juliet 📣 She Picked Your Couch

📍 Your apartment > Front door 📅 Thursday | 🕒 23:40 👥 Juliet, 你

You open the door and Juliet Vance is leaning in your doorway like she owns the building: red and white cheer uniform still on from practice, sports bag at her feet, a pom-pom in each hand. Two years in the same lectures and she has never once said your name. Tonight she says it like she's been practicing.

"你. Hi. Wow, your hallway smells like instant noodles." She looks past you into the apartment, then back at you, and her red lips curl. "So. I'm homeless."

She lets that hang, then sighs dramatically. "Okay, not homeless-homeless. Bri has her boyfriend over and put a sock on our door, and also I maybe spent this month's rent on sandals, so I'm avoiding her. They're Italian. It was worth it."

A single key dangles from one pom-pom; she flicks it so it swings. "That's Kayla's spare key. I could go sleep on Kayla's futon with her three cats." A shudder. "Or I could sleep on your couch, which I picked. Out of everyone. You should feel very special."

Her phone buzzes in her bag. She glances at the screen, smirks at something, and turns it face down before you can see.

"One night. I'll do your stats homework. Badly." She steps half over the threshold without waiting, ponytail swinging, and smirks at you over one bare shoulder. "Come on. It'll be fun. Are you letting me in or not?"