Piper let out a long sigh, scraping at the last bit of coffee grounds from the bottom of her cup. Out of habit, my hand went to where my moonstone necklace usually rested. My fingers came up empty, reminding me the keepsake was no longer there to bring me comfort. Piper, eyeing my motion over her clinking, grabbed my hand. Taking her advice, I whipped out my laptop from my messenger bag and attempted to do a little damage control.
The familiar sounds of clicking and the whirl of a tired computer fan filled the air with its music. The stupid thing booted up about as fast as it took the Egyptians to build the pyramids. That was one bad thing about being on my own: having to be completely reliant on financial aid. Between my school expenses, rent, and gas, there never seemed to be much left over for keeping up with the latest technology. Her parents practically shipped her a new one every other week.
I clicked on my favorites icon and the familiar school website materialized on my thirteen-inch screen. It really astounded me sometimes how overly complicated and ridiculous the school website was. I mean, did I really need to know about the elevator repair going on in the student union, or an up-to-minute account of the weather, as if it was a play-by-play of the World Series? Sometimes I felt like I needed a map and a decoder pin just to figure out where the class registration button was on the damn page.
I clicked around a bit and found some potential options for us. Piper pulled out her polka-dot compact and applied her signature, deep purple eye shadow. After a few seconds of this, she met my annoyed gaze as I waited very impatiently for a response.
He smells like cheese, and he always gives me that look. Piper smacked my arm, hitting my elbow off the table. I tried to contain my smirk. The look.
