"Ay, yo homedog. Get up and moving before I put the laughter in manslaughter." Somebody kicked her bed, making her snap awake, her entire body tense.
"Rose?" Grace said groggily, lifting her head up to peer up at the girl standing above her.
"Don't give me that look, I let you sleep in!" Rose crossed her arms, pouting.
"Really?" She peered over at her alarm clock.
"By like, two minutes. But still, you're going to be late for that one thing that needs to be done."
"Thing?" Grace sounded bewildered.
"You know, that thingy thing? The one thing you waited for three weeks for? That one, with the one weirdo dude with the crazy long hair and the mad eyes? That thing?"
"Wow. Your vocabulary astounds me." Grace groans before face planting down in her pillow. "Now get out, I need to get up."
"Please, it's not like I've never seen your tan behind before. You can get up and I promise I won't look at your freakishly gross hairy legs." Rose waved her hand.
"Oh my freaking- just get out!" Grace threw her pillow at Rose, who shrieked and left the room in a hurry, like Grace had any more pillow to throw at her to ruin her hair. She slipped out of her warm bed, dressed in only a long t-shirt proclaiming she was 'Ad-Free!', and boxer shorts. Grace winced when she looked in the mirror, her hair in all tangled up and fritzy. It wasn't something she could straighten out immediately. It was after several struggles with her brush, Grace had managed to put it in a french braid without too much pain on her part. She got dressed after that, with a flowery shirt and a long pair of jeans. Grace walked out of the room and was stopped in her tracks when she heard a loud groan.
"Really? Grace, are you seriously still going for the gypsy look? Can you wear something that shows a little skin? Boys will actually start looking at you if you show a little boob." Rose complained, and Grace sighed. "And those tacky necklaces? Do you have to wear all of them all the time?"
"I like my necklaces." Grace touched her beaded necklaces. She wore four this time, a little on the light side. "And I like not showing boys my chest. They're mine."
"Then what's the point?" Rose sighed exasperatedly, "boobs are our advantage over boys! They're like, super dumb when it comes to them. Give them a little peek and trust me, they'll do anything."
"Rose, if I were to ever like a boy, it wouldn't be because they like my body. It's going to be a mutual, respect thing. I'm sure you won't understand, but I want him to respect me for who I am, and not for ogling my body."
"That sounds so lame. You'll probably end up with some super religious dude."
"As long as he isn't a Satanist, then I'm fine." Grace said, grabbing her bag. "Don't go through my stuff and take pictures of my 'old grandma underwear' I do follow you on Instagram."
"You do?" Grace heard Rose before she shut her door. Their apartment laid in the outskirts of Madison, Wisconsin. It wasn't very new apartment, but it was perfect to what Grace wanted. For Rose, however, she complained every day. Grace swung one leg on her bike, and pedaled away, going into the city. The cold morning air was fresh and crisp, something she enjoyed the most being on the outside of the city.
Rose, for the better word, didn't belong anywhere near Grace. With soft pink hair that billowed out, a rose tattoo on the side of her arm, she was a classic, power hungry, girl. She believed that boys were still 'in' and Grace was the definition of 'out'. Plus, boys hung on her every word, because even Grace knew that Rose was a very pretty... person. Girl, she was not.
