Eden
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Devante asks as I sit on his bed, putting my hair up in a high ponytail.
Excitement flows through me like the current of a river. "I haven't seen anything other than the hospital or your apartment in a little over a week, D. I'm ready."
He laughs. "That's painful, the way you said it like you're sick of being with me."
My eyes roll and a smirk curls the side of my lip. "I'm not sick of being with you," I make sure to clarify. "I'm sick of being stuck in one place where I can't go do all the things I've always done for myself."
"So in other words, it's not you, it's me."
Giggling, I shake my head at his ridiculousness. "Exactly."
"Do you need help getting your pants on?"
"These aren't pants, they're leggings," I correct him. "These are things you should know."
"Typically I'm cutting clothes off of people, I don't have time to know what to call what they're wearing."