My phone buzzed. Group chat.
Misato: Bus in 40 minutes. Everyone better be packed.
Jordan: im dying
Misato: Die faster. We're leaving on time.
I showed the messages to Belle and Naomi. Belle let out a long suffering groan and started collecting her scattered clothes from around the room. Naomi disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.
I pulled on clean jeans and one of the shirts I'd bought yesterday. The dark blue v-neck that Aurora had insisted would "bring out my eyes." Looking in the mirror now, I had to admit she was right. The fabric sat properly across my shoulders instead of hanging loose the way everything used to before the weight started coming off.
Belle emerged from the bathroom fully dressed in my stolen shirt and her salvaged tactical pants. Her blue hair still damp, pulled into a messy bun. She looked at me and wrinkled her nose.
"You look good. I hate it."
"You're wearing my shirt."
"And I look better in it than you would. That's just facts."
